Day 127 Post-Impact. One hundred and seventy-five days total underground.
Marcus was helping Emma harvest tomatoes when the system erupted with an alert he'd never seen before.
[CRITICAL ALERT]
[UNKNOWN SIGNAL DETECTED]
[Source: EXTERNAL - Not from known network]
[Type: ADVANCED TECHNOLOGY - System-level encryption]
[Distance: 847 kilometers]
[Signal strength: POWERFUL - Military-grade transmission]
[Content: ENCRYPTED MESSAGE - Decryption available]
[WARNING: This is NOT a survivor shelter]
[WARNING: Technology level exceeds current human capability]
[DECRYPT MESSAGE? Y/N]
Marcus froze, a half-picked tomato in his hand. A signal. From 847 kilometers away. With technology that exceeded human capability. And the system was warning him about it.
"Uncle Marcus? Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I'm fine, sweetheart. Keep harvesting. I need to... check something."
Marcus went to his alcove, pulled the privacy curtain, and focused on the alert. His heart was pounding. This could be exactly what Margaret had theorized—evidence of whoever or whatever had distributed the systems.
He selected YES.
The decryption took thirty seconds—an eternity for the usually instantaneous system. When the message finally appeared, Marcus felt his blood run cold:
[DECRYPTED MESSAGE]
[PRIORITY TRANSMISSION]
[FROM: VAULT 7 COMMAND]
[TO: ALL SYSTEM USERS IN RANGE]
[SUBJECT: PHASE 2 ACTIVATION]
MESSAGE BEGINS:
Congratulations on surviving Phase 1 (Impact Event). You have proven yourselves capable of basic survival and resource management.
Phase 2 is now beginning.
You are hereby notified that your current survival is part of a larger experiment in human adaptation and civilization rebuilding. The Extinction Event was necessary to reset humanity's trajectory. Your systems were distributed to ensure genetic and intellectual diversity among survivors.
You will receive new objectives shortly. Completion of these objectives will be rewarded. Failure will result in system termination and loss of enhanced capabilities.
You are not alone. There are 127 active system users remaining worldwide (down from initial 7,439). Natural selection has occurred as intended.
A representative from Vault 7 will make contact within 72 hours to provide detailed instructions for Phase 2.
Do not attempt to locate Vault 7. Do not share this message with non-system users. Do not resist the upcoming objectives.
Your compliance ensures humanity's optimal survival outcome.
MESSAGE ENDS
[System Analysis: Authentic command-level transmission]
[Source verification: Matches system architecture]
[Implication: Your suspicions were correct]
[The impact was engineered]
[The systems are part of a controlled experiment]
[You are being monitored and manipulated]
[WARNING: Extreme danger]
Marcus sat in stunned silence, his mind reeling. The impact was engineered. Billions of people murdered deliberately. The systems were tools of control, not salvation. He was a lab rat in someone's experiment.
And he had 72 hours before "representatives" from this Vault 7 made contact.
He immediately activated system communication with Margaret.
"Margaret! Emergency! Did you receive—"
"The Vault 7 message? Yes. I'm terrified, Marcus. This is exactly what we feared, but worse. They're talking about us like experimental subjects. They killed seven billion people as 'necessary reset.' What the hell are we dealing with?"
"I don't know, but we need to act fast. Can you contact the other system users? Sarah, Chen, the Architect? We need to coordinate before these representatives arrive."
"Already on it. I'm establishing an emergency conference. Give me ten minutes."
Marcus emerged from his alcove, trying to keep his expression neutral. Lisa took one look at him and knew something was wrong.
"What happened?"
Marcus pulled her aside, speaking quietly. "Remember how I said I found a mysterious system that gave me enhanced abilities? Well, we just received a message from whoever created it. And it's bad. Really bad."
He explained everything—the message, the implications, the 72-hour deadline. Lisa's face went pale.
"So the apocalypse was deliberate? Someone killed billions of people on purpose?"
"It looks that way."
"And now they're coming here? To give you... what? Orders?"
"I don't know. But I'm not taking orders from mass murderers."
"Marcus, if they have the technology to cause the impact, to create these systems, what chance do we have against them?"
It was a good question. A terrifying question.
Ten minutes later, Marcus joined the emergency system user conference. Five voices in his mind—Margaret, Sarah (a biologist from a northern shelter), Chen (an engineer from a western facility), the Architect (still anonymous and paranoid), and someone new identifying only as "Phoenix."
Margaret spoke first: "Everyone received the Vault 7 message?"
Affirmatives all around.
"Then we're all in the same situation. We have 72 hours before contact. What do we do?"
The Architect's voice was harsh: "We refuse. We tell them to fuck off. We didn't ask for their systems. We don't owe them compliance."
"And if they terminate the systems?" Sarah asked. "If they shut down our enhanced capabilities?"
"Then we survive without them," the Architect shot back. "Humans managed for thousands of years without alien technology or whatever this is."
Chen's calmer voice: "Let's think strategically. They said there are 127 active system users remaining. Down from over seven thousand. That means most system users died despite having advantages. Why?"
"Natural selection," Phoenix said, her voice thoughtful. "They said it themselves. They wanted to see who could actually survive, not just who had the systems. The technology was a test, not a guarantee."
Marcus spoke up: "Which means we have value to them. They're invested in the survivors. We have leverage."
"What kind of leverage?" Margaret asked.
"Information leverage. They've revealed themselves. They've admitted the impact was engineered. That's evidence. If we can document it, preserve it, maybe even transmit it to other survivors, we have insurance."
"Insurance against what?" the Architect demanded.
"Against being disappeared. If they kill us, the evidence spreads. Other survivors learn the truth. Their experiment becomes public knowledge instead of controlled."
There was a moment of silence as everyone processed this.
Sarah spoke cautiously: "That's assuming they care about secrecy. What if they don't?"
"Then we're screwed anyway," Marcus said bluntly. "But if there's a chance, we should take it. Here's what I propose: each of us documents everything we know. The systems, the message, our suspicions. We create multiple copies and hide them in our shelters. We tell our most trusted people—our families, our allies—what's happening. We create a dead man's switch."
"And then what?" Chen asked.
"Then we hear what they have to say. We learn what Phase 2 is. And we make an informed decision about whether to comply."
The Architect scoffed: "You're actually considering complying?"
"I'm considering survival. If their objectives align with our interests, why not comply? If they don't, we resist. But we need information first."
They debated for another hour. Finally, they reached consensus:
Document everything Create information redundancy Brief trusted allies Meet with the Vault 7 representative Make no commitments without consulting each other Maintain unity among system users
After the conference ended, Marcus gathered his family.
"I need to tell you something that's going to sound insane, but I need you to trust me..."
He explained everything. The systems. The message. The engineered apocalypse. The upcoming contact. He watched their faces shift from disbelief to horror to anger.
David spoke first: "So we've been living in someone's experiment this whole time?"
"It appears so."
"And they could terminate your system at any moment, taking away all your enhanced capabilities?"
"Possibly."
"Then we need a backup plan. If you lose the system, what happens to our shelter?"
Marcus pulled up his mental inventory. "We'd lose the advanced blueprints, the predictive analysis, the enhanced troubleshooting. But the physical systems would still work. The ecosystem is self-sustaining. The medical bay still functions. We'd survive, just without the optimization."
Lisa asked the harder question: "What do they want? Why engineer an apocalypse? Why give people systems and then demand compliance?"
"I don't know. But we're about to find out."
Day 130 Post-Impact. Seventy-two hours after the message.
Marcus stood in the common area, the entire family gathered around him. The countdown timer in his mind showed:
[TIME UNTIL VAULT 7 CONTACT: 00:00:47]
Forty-seven seconds.
"Whatever happens," Marcus said, "remember that we're a family. We're together. Nothing changes that."
Emma and Jack looked scared but brave. Lisa held David's hand tightly. They'd spent the past three days preparing for this moment—documenting everything, briefing the network (minus the system details), creating contingency plans.
The timer reached zero.
Marcus's vision exploded with light.
When it cleared, he was no longer in his shelter. Or rather, his body was still in the shelter, but his consciousness had been transported somewhere else. A virtual space. White void stretching infinitely in all directions.
And he wasn't alone.
Six figures stood around him. He recognized Margaret, Sarah, Chen, the Architect (a hard-looking woman in her forties), and Phoenix (a young woman, maybe twenty-five). The sixth figure was unfamiliar—probably another system user.
And in the center of their circle stood a man.
He looked perfectly ordinary—middle-aged, Asian features, wearing what appeared to be a simple gray jumpsuit. But there was something deeply wrong about him. His movements were too precise. His expression too neutral. His eyes too aware.
"Welcome," the man said, his voice somehow both pleasant and terrifying. "I am Administrator Kenji, primary contact for Vault 7. You are the six highest-performing system users in North America. Congratulations on your survival."
The Architect snarled: "Fuck your congratulations. You murdered seven billion people!"
"Correction: the impact event eliminated 7.3 billion humans. However, 'murder' implies malicious intent. The Extinction Event was necessary population control and civilization reset. Your species was on a path to self-destruction. We accelerated the inevitable while ensuring optimal survivors remained."
"We?" Margaret asked. "Who are you? Who is Vault 7?"
Administrator Kenji smiled, and it was the most inhuman expression Marcus had ever seen. "Vault 7 is a long-term preservation and evolution project. We are the custodians of humanity's future. As for who we are..." He paused. "We are what humanity becomes, given enough time and proper guidance."
"That's not an answer," Chen said.
"It is the only answer you require. What matters now is Phase 2. You have proven your capacity for basic survival. Now you will be tested on leadership, innovation, and ability to rebuild civilization. You have new objectives."
A display appeared in the void—a list of tasks:
[PHASE 2 OBJECTIVES - 1 YEAR TIMELINE]
Tier 1 (Mandatory):
Establish surface outpost capable of supporting 10+ people Make contact with minimum 3 non-system survivor groups Initiate agricultural operations on surface Document surface conditions and adaptation strategies
Tier 2 (Optional - Enhanced Rewards): 5. Develop new technology adapted to post-impact conditions 6. Establish trade network between survivor communities 7. Create educational infrastructure for next generation 8. Locate and recover pre-impact knowledge repositories
Tier 3 (Competitive): 9. First to establish self-sustaining surface community: 1000 SP 10. Most people successfully brought to surface: 500 SP 11. Greatest technological innovation: 750 SP
Failure Penalties:
Failure to complete Tier 1: System termination Refusal to participate: System termination + targeted elimination Attempted interference with other users: Immediate termination
"You have one year," Administrator Kenji said. "Those who succeed will advance to Phase 3. Those who fail will be... discontinued. Questions?"
Marcus found his voice: "What happens after Phase 3? What's the endgame?"
"Phase 7 is the endgame. Full integration into the greater evolutionary framework. But that is decades away. Focus on immediate survival."
"And if we refuse?" the Architect challenged. "If we all refuse?"
Administrator Kenji's expression didn't change, but the temperature in the void seemed to drop. "Then humanity loses 127 of its most capable survivors. The experiment continues with baseline humans. Progress slows by several centuries. But the outcome remains inevitable. We have patience measured in millennia."
The Architect started to respond, but Sarah cut her off: "We'll need resources for surface operations. Equipment, materials, things we can't synthesize."
"Supply drops will be provided at designated coordinates. You will receive locations shortly. Use them wisely."
"What about non-system survivors?" Margaret asked. "Can we share resources with them?"
"Encouraged. Your objectives specifically require cooperation with baseline humans. You are being tested on leadership, not individual capability."
Phoenix spoke for the first time: "The competitive objectives pit us against each other. You're creating conflict between system users."
"Competition drives innovation. But cooperation remains optimal strategy. You may choose to compete or collaborate. Both paths are acceptable."
Marcus felt sick. They were lab rats being pushed through increasingly complex mazes. But lab rats with no choice but to run.
"I have a question," Marcus said. "Why the systems? Why give us enhanced capabilities at all? Why not just let baseline humans rebuild naturally?"
Administrator Kenji studied him. "Baseline human civilization rebuilding from extinction-level event: 800-1200 years to pre-impact technological level. With system-enhanced survivors providing guidance: 200-300 years. We prefer efficiency."
"You're using us to accelerate human recovery so you can... what? Harvest us? Assimilate us? What do you want from humanity?"
"Phase 7 reveals all. Until then, focus on objectives. You have your instructions. This orientation is concluded."
"Wait—" Margaret started.
The white void shattered.
Marcus gasped, back in his body, his family surrounding him with worried expressions.
"Marcus! You've been standing there for thirty minutes! Your eyes were open but you weren't responding!" Lisa grabbed his shoulders.
"I'm okay. I'm back. I was... somewhere else. Meeting with them." His voice was shaking.
David steadied him. "What happened? What did they say?"
Marcus explained the meeting, the objectives, the threats, the implications. His family listened in growing horror.
"So we have a year to establish a surface outpost," David summarized. "While the surface is still mostly frozen and lethal. That's impossible."
"Not impossible. Difficult. The surface is warming. Slowly. And they're providing supply drops with equipment we'll need."
Emma asked quietly: "Are you going to do it? Are you going to do what they say?"
Marcus looked at his ten-year-old niece, this brave girl who'd adapted to the apocalypse with such resilience. He thought about the billions who'd died. About the hundreds he'd helped save. About the future humanity might or might not have.
"I don't know yet, sweetheart. I need to talk to the other system users. We need to decide together."
That evening, the system user coalition held another emergency conference.
"So," the Architect said bitterly. "We're slaves now. Do what they say or die."
"We were always slaves," Phoenix countered. "We just didn't know it. The systems were chains from the beginning."
"Not necessarily," Chen argued. "If we can complete the objectives while maintaining our autonomy, while helping non-system survivors, we turn their experiment to our advantage."
Margaret's voice was thoughtful: "Marcus asked the right question. What do they want from humanity? Why guide our evolution? If we can figure out their endgame, we might find leverage."
Sarah added: "And notice what they didn't say. They didn't explain what Phase 3 through 7 are. They didn't explain their true nature. They gave us just enough information to comply, but not enough to understand."
Marcus had been thinking about this. "The objectives themselves are revealing. Surface outpost. Contact with other survivors. Agriculture. Trade networks. Education. They want us to build interconnected communities, not isolated shelters. They want knowledge preserved and spread. They want civilization rebuilt, but guided by system users."
"A controlled rebuild," Margaret said. "System users as the new elite. A technocracy."
"Or a trap," the Architect warned. "Get us to bring everyone to the surface, out in the open, easier to control or eliminate."
They debated for hours. Finally, they voted:
5 in favor of cautious compliance (Marcus, Margaret, Sarah, Chen, Phoenix) 1 opposed (the Architect) 1 abstaining (the sixth user, who'd remained silent)
"We proceed," Margaret announced. "But we do it our way. We complete objectives while prioritizing baseline human welfare. We document everything. We look for weaknesses in their control. And if we find a way to break free, we take it."
The Architect's voice was disgusted: "You're collaborators. You're helping them enslave humanity."
"We're helping humanity survive," Marcus corrected. "That's what we've always been doing. That doesn't change just because we know we're being watched."
Day 140 Post-Impact. Ten days after Vault 7 contact.
Marcus stood in the workshop, designing equipment for the first surface expedition. The system had provided coordinates for a supply drop—a cache of advanced gear located sixteen miles from their shelter.
The expedition would be dangerous. Surface temperature was still -35°C. Wind speeds averaged 60 km/h. Visibility was poor from residual ash in the atmosphere. But it was now survivable with proper equipment.
David entered the workshop. "You're planning to go up there yourself, aren't you?"
"Someone has to. I have the system to guide me, to monitor conditions, to—"
"To martyr yourself if something goes wrong?" David interrupted. "Marcus, you just spent the last month learning to delegate. Learning to not be a single point of failure. And now you're planning the most dangerous mission personally?"
"I'm the most qualified—"
"You're the most valuable. If you die up there, this shelter loses its system user. The network loses its technical expert. Your family loses you. Let someone else take the risk."
Marcus wanted to argue. But David was right. The old Marcus would have insisted on doing the dangerous work himself. The new Marcus, who'd learned about delegation and sustainability, knew better.
"You're right. But I'm not sending anyone else to die either. We need to minimize risk. What if we use drones first? Scout the route, verify the supply drop location, check for hazards?"
David brightened. "Can we build drones?"
"The system can guide me through it. And you can help. This is advanced tech, but if we work together..."
Over the next week, Marcus and David built three reconnaissance drones using salvaged electronics, small electric motors, and 3D-printed frames. The system provided designs optimized for the harsh surface conditions.
[Achievement Unlocked: Advanced Manufacturing]
[Successfully created complex technology from limited resources]
[Survival Points: +30]
[Current Total: 418 SP]
On day 147, they launched the first drone.
Marcus controlled it via tablet, the system providing enhanced telemetry and analysis. The drone climbed up through the ventilation shaft, emerging onto the frozen surface.
The video feed showed a nightmare landscape.
Everything was covered in a thick layer of gray-black ash mixed with ice. The sky was perpetual twilight—no sun visible, just diffuse dim light filtering through the atmospheric debris. The temperature reading showed -34°C. Wind howled at 58 km/h.
But it was survivable. Barely.
The drone flew toward the supply drop coordinates, its camera recording everything. Sixteen miles of frozen wasteland. No plants. No animals. No movement except wind-blown ash.
At the coordinates, they found it: a large metallic container, partially buried in ash, marked with symbols that made Marcus's system ping with recognition.
[Vault 7 Supply Cache Confirmed]
[Contents: Advanced cold-weather gear, surface construction materials, agricultural supplies]
[Access code provided]
The drone circled the cache, confirming no obvious hazards. Marcus brought it back to the shelter.
"It's real," he told David. "The cache is there. The equipment exists. This is really happening."
David studied the footage. "We could reach it. With proper gear, a small team could make the trip in six hours, retrieve the cache, and return."
"Or we could die from exposure, equipment failure, or a dozen other things."
"But we could also succeed. And if we don't try, we definitely fail the objectives and lose the system."
Marcus hated that David was right. They had no choice. Phase 2 had begun.
He called a network meeting to announce the situation—carefully edited to avoid revealing the system conspiracy.
"Everyone, we've detected a surface supply cache sixteen miles from Node Six. It contains equipment that could enable surface operations. I'm planning an expedition to retrieve it."
The network erupted with questions and concerns. Margaret's voice cut through:
"Marcus, this is premature. The surface is still extremely dangerous. Why risk it now?"
Marcus chose his words carefully. "Because we need to start preparing for eventual surface return. The longer we wait, the harder it becomes. And this cache could help multiple shelters, not just Node Six."
Rodriguez from Node Four volunteered: "I'll come with you. You need experienced people. I've got cold weather training from my Army days."
Dr. Chen from Node Nine: "I'll provide medical support and emergency protocols."
One by one, people volunteered expertise, resources, support. The network was rallying around the dangerous mission.
Marcus felt a surge of emotion. These people, these survivors, were willing to risk everything to help each other. Whatever Vault 7's intentions, they couldn't destroy the human capacity for cooperation and courage.
[Achievement Unlocked: Network Mobilization]
[Successfully inspired coordinated action across multiple shelters]
[Survival Points: +25]
[Current Total: 443 SP]
Planning took two weeks. Marcus assembled a team of four:
Himself (system guidance and technical expertise) Rodriguez (cold weather survival and military training) A woman named Sarah from Shelter Beta (medical expertise) David (his insistence, his loyalty, his courage)
They spent days training with the cold-weather gear from previous supplies, practicing in the shelter's coldest chambers, preparing for every contingency.
Lisa didn't speak to Marcus for two days when she learned David was going. Finally, she confronted him.
"You're taking my husband into that frozen hell. If he dies—"
"Then I die first," Marcus interrupted. "I promise you, Lisa. I will not let David die up there. I'll bring him home."
"You can't promise that. You don't control the surface."
"No. But I'll do everything in my power. And if it comes to it, I'll sacrifice myself to save him. That's a promise I can keep."
Lisa's anger crumbled into fear. "I don't want either of you to die. I don't want to be alone down here with the kids, wondering if you're frozen corpses on the surface."
"We'll come back. I have a system that can predict and prevent failures. Rodriguez has military survival training. Sarah has medical expertise. We're as prepared as possible."
"Is it worth it? Whatever's in that cache?"
Marcus thought about the objectives. About Phase 2. About the gun to humanity's head.
"I don't know. But we have to try."
Day 164 Post-Impact. Launch day.
The four-person expedition stood at the shelter's entrance tunnel, suited in advanced cold-weather gear. Multiple layers of insulation, thermal heating elements, oxygen supplementation, communication equipment, emergency supplies.
The entire network was listening on the radio. Three hundred survivors holding their breath, hoping these four would succeed.
Marcus's system provided one final analysis:
[Surface Expedition Assessment]
[Weather conditions: Marginal but acceptable]
[Route to cache: Mapped and verified]
[Team preparation: Excellent]
[Estimated success probability: 67.3%]
[Warning: Multiple life-threatening hazards exist]
[Recommendation: Proceed with extreme caution]
Sixty-seven percent. Better than a coin flip. Worse than certainty.
Marcus looked at his team. Rodriguez, calm and professional. Sarah, nervous but determined. David, scared but brave.
"Remember the plan," Marcus said. "We stick together. We follow the route. We don't take unnecessary risks. If conditions deteriorate, we abort and return. The cache isn't worth our lives."
"Speak for yourself," Rodriguez said with a grim smile. "I didn't survive the apocalypse just to die in a frozen bunker. Let's see the sun again. Even if it's a dim, ash-covered sun."
Marcus unsealed the entrance door. Cold air rushed in, dropping the temperature thirty degrees instantly despite their heating systems.
They climbed the tunnel. Step by step. Higher. Closer to the surface they hadn't seen in 164 days.
Marcus was the first to emerge.
The world was dead.
Gray ash covered everything in drifts up to six feet deep. The sky was the color of old bruises—purple-gray twilight that provided barely enough light to see. Wind howled across the frozen landscape, carrying stinging particles of ice and ash.
The temperature reading on his suit showed -33°C. Windchill made it feel like -48°C.
But they were outside. On the surface. Under the open sky for the first time since the impact.
"Jesus," David breathed, emerging behind Marcus. "It's beautiful and horrible at the same time."
The other two climbed out. They stood together for a moment, four humans in a dead world, contemplating the magnitude of what had been lost.
Then Marcus activated his suit's navigation system. "Cache is 15.7 kilometers northeast. Estimated travel time: 5 hours, 42 minutes. Let's move."
They began walking, trudging through ash drifts, leaning into the wind, following the path Marcus's drones had mapped.
The system monitored everything—vitals, suit integrity, environmental conditions, hazards. So far, so good.
Two hours in, they encountered the first major obstacle: a collapsed building blocking their path. What had once been a small house was now a pile of rubble buried in ash, forming a treacherous barrier twenty feet high.
"We go around," Rodriguez decided. "Climbing in this gear, in these conditions—too risky."
The detour added forty minutes to their journey.
Three hours in, Sarah's heating element failed. The temperature inside her suit began dropping rapidly.
"Emergency stop!" Marcus called. They formed a protective circle around Sarah while Marcus accessed his repair knowledge from the system.
The problem was a loose connection. Simple fix. But his hands were already numb from cold despite his gloves. He fumbled with the tiny components for agonizing minutes before finally restoring the connection.
Sarah's suit temperature began recovering. "Thank you," she gasped, her lips blue from cold. "Thought I was going to freeze."
"We all would have frozen if we'd been out here much longer," David said. "Let's keep moving."
Four and a half hours in, they saw it: the supply cache, exactly where the coordinates indicated. A large metallic container, gleaming dully in the perpetual twilight.
Marcus approached carefully, the system scanning for traps or hazards. Nothing. Just the cache and the access code.
He entered the code. The container opened with a hiss of equalizing pressure.
Inside were miracles:
Advanced thermal suits capable of withstanding -60°C Portable habitat modules that could be assembled on the surface Seeds engineered for cold-climate rapid growth Solar panels optimized for low-light conditions Construction tools and materials Medical supplies And something that made Marcus's blood run cold: detailed schematics for a "Surface Command Center" with Vault 7 branding
They were really doing it. Building exactly what Vault 7 wanted. Following the plan like good little experimental subjects.
But what choice did they have?
"We can't carry all of this," Rodriguez assessed. "We take the most critical items now, come back for the rest."
They loaded themselves with thermal suits, seeds, medical supplies, and solar panels. The rest would require multiple trips or a surface vehicle.
The return journey was faster—they knew the route, avoided the detours, moved with the confidence of success.
Five hours and seventeen minutes after leaving, they descended back into the shelter, hypothermic and exhausted but alive.
The network erupted in celebration. They'd done it. First successful surface expedition since the impact.
[PHASE 2 OBJECTIVE UPDATE]
[Progress toward Tier 1-1: 35% (Initial surface access established)]
[Survival Points: +75 (First Surface Expedition Success)]
[Current Total: 518 SP]
[Warning: You are now committed to Phase 2]
[Warning: Vault 7 is watching]
Marcus collapsed in his sleeping alcove, too exhausted to care about the warnings. They'd succeeded. They'd reached the surface. They'd taken the first step toward... whatever came next.
Outside, in the dead world above, the cache waited. Technology and resources that would enable surface operations.
And somewhere, in a place called Vault 7, entities that might or might not be human were watching their experiment progress.
The game had changed. The stakes had escalated.
And Marcus had no idea how it would end.
Day one hundred sixty-four post-impact complete.
The surface expedition had succeeded.
Phase 2 had truly begun.
[To be continued...]