Picking up the pieces

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When she came to, there was nothing left. Ghoul bodies scattered the hallways of Tenpenny Tower, of both the murderers and the innocent.

Innocent?

No one was innocent in this world she was thrown into. Especially not her.



She had believed in a higher cause.  In bringing justice to the wasteland. In bringing some form of comfort to those living on the surface.

Her father would have hated what she had just done. But her father was dead. The innocent soul her father raised in the vault was dead. Those childish fantasies were dead.

There was only the Lone Wanderer now. A broken woman left picking up the pieces of her own psyche.

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