So I haven't written anything in this section for a while now. I was having a look through some of the older Rp's and found the first one I was apart of, Cold Steel. Since it was my first and favourite Rp, I decided to create a fan fic about it. For anyone wanting to read it takes place after http://www.gamesas.com/index.php?/topic/993950-cold-steel/page__hl__cold+steel, http://www.gamesas.com/index.php?/topic/994889-cold-steel-2-hunting-autumn/page__hl__cold+steel and http://www.gamesas.com/index.php?/topic/1009876-cold-steel-fighting-the-future/page__hl__cold+steel (which was unfinished). I will eventually explain what these characters have been through so you don't have to go reading through old Rp's. I just hope you enjoy my fan fic, this is just the opening. Feedback is more than welcome.

A life without Steel

It had been weeks, or maybe even months, Patrick wasn’t sure anymore they had been travelling underground for so long. He hadn’t seen the light of day, only the fading flickering light of the subways electricity system. Even when he saw that he was lucky, the rest of the time he just spent adjusting his eyes to the darkness down in the labyrinth of tunnels. It had been a dangerous journey and there was no sign of it easing up anytime soon but Patrick was tired, the journey had not only left him diminished physically but mentally as well. He trudged along behind the pack as Edward came to a halt. His right hand shot up to form a stop sign, then his fist clenched, it was a sign to disperse and dig in, it was also a sign of danger.

Patrick sprung back to life, instinct had kicked in, instead of seeing the subway as a dark and hopeless road, instinct had transformed it into a battle ground. Vantage points and support positions appeared as Patrick had begun to move quickly towards cover. Crouched over, Patrick moved right, behind a half collapsed concrete wall with tires and rubbish on top. His position was behind the others so he could provide covering fire as they took forward positions, they were preparing for the worst, a group attack but down in the subway it could have been anything.

It was the same feeling before every battle, an intense silence came over, Patrick’s breathing slowed but his heart raced. His ears pricked up as he tried to listen for the slightest pin drop of noise to be carried across the tunnels along with the slight wind. Off in the distance, droplets of water could be heard pattering but there was no other sound to be heard. Pat’s eyes were strained as they scanned through the darkness looking for the slightest bit of movement. Still there was nothing but Edward was never wrong there was something down there.

Suddenly, movement, or sounds of it at least. They came from Patrick’s left on the other side of the tracks near his other companion, Peter. In an automatic fashion Pat swung around, finger on the trigger and began to concentrate on his breathing, waiting for that perfect moment to strike. Then it came but not for Patrick, Edward had fired his mussel lighting up the underground for a split second as the bullet flew out of the rifle. The shot was fired in the direction of Peter but more forward from his position. The target was a feral ghoul and the bullet flew right through its temple, killing the creature instantly. The three men had all seen the ghoul and its demise but they knew it wasn’t alone, they were never alone. The men had a procedure for moments like this and once again instinct had kicked in.

Edward, Peter and Patrick flicked on their torches attached to their rifle and aimed down the tunnels ahead of them. Standing there were 8 feral ghouls temporarily blinded by the light. They hissed and screamed back at the men with terrible howls. It may have worked on lesser creatures or maybe even on lesser men but the three were ex-soldiers and they had become all too a custom to these situations. They fired three short bursts each before the ghouls had even managed to begin their charge. The bullets from their guns tore apart the fragile ghoul’s bodies and within seconds the 8 ghouls lay dead on the tracks and once again the tunnels were silent.

After a few minutes of sitting there in the darkness Edward moved into the centre of tunnels and signaled for everyone to form up. Patrick and Peter moved from behind their cover and the three took up walking down the tunnels with their guns lowered to about waist height. They continued walking for some time, encountering no life along the way. Eventually they came to a station, well what was left of it. The walkway leading to the surface had collapsed in and the concrete had formed a sort of protective barrier around the furthest corner of the station. It didn’t look like a station anymore; it was just a pile of rubble. Once again they formed up, this time into a tight group with each man protecting the person next to them flank.

It was still dark, the flashlights on their guns had turned off to conserve battery and also not to give away their position. Patrick preyed there was no-one around, it was quite hot underground and since they had sweated most of their water out, Patrick was dehydrated and didn’t know how much longer he could last. The others, Pete and Ed seemed to be breathing slightly heavier than normal; clearly this was taking a toll on all of them. Cautiously they moved over to the somewhat fortified position in the corner, Edward knew that it would be a good position to set up while they got some rest but it was also a good position for some raiders if they had decided to make this place their home.

Eventually they reached the crumbled pile of rubble, it had formed an almost doorway in the centre where Edward leaded the others. It was quiet and there were no signs of raiders which is why the three ex-soldiers moved through the entrance quickly. They stopped in the centre of the concrete walls and scanned the darkness around them. One by one they muttered “Clear” as they continued to look around. Edward, being the last to say clear then gave the next order.

“Alright, flashlights on!” He said as his torch flickered to life.

The three then scanned the area with their flashlights. There was nothing, no signs of life or even life itself. Patrick’s torch was beginning to dim as he turned it off.

“Alright,” said Edward, “We’ll stay here, rest, eat and drink. I’ve got first watch, Pete you’ve got second and Pat you’re last.”

Pete and Pat nodded together as they began to set up camp.

“We’re going to need more supplies soon Ed, I’m quickly running out of food, water, ammo and now torch battery,” Patrick said as he laid down his dirty bed sheet.

“We’re all running out of supplies,” Edward retorted, “but can you hear it? The wind, it’s getting stronger there is an exit just up ahead. We’re almost there; we’re almost in New York.”

Hey look who's back! I liked it.

Hey Josh, nice to see your still around.

Here is chapter 2 guys, enjoy.

Chapter 2: The Game

After resting for some time, the three had journeyed through the tunnels, following the ever increasing wind. On their way they had not encountered much apart from the odd giant rat and radroach, at one point they had exchanged bullets with some more feral ghouls but it was nothing they couldn’t handle. Finally Edward found what he was looking for, a sign that confirmed their exit of the subway and entrance into New York. They had reached another station, again empty; the station had a large sign on one of the walls. Although it was faded and cracked the sign clearly said ‘Grand Central Station’ with an arrow pointing down one of the tunnels. Edward smiled as he turned to the others,

“Not long now, keep your weapons at the ready. I know we heard New York was a sanctuary but back in the old days it was one of the biggest and well known cities in the world and with so little info about who or what inhabits it now, we need to be on our guard. We’ll move closer to the station but keep an eye out for maintenance ducts and doorways; I don’t want to lead us through the main tunnel into the station. Any questions before we move out?”

Peter and Patrick shook their heads, “Alright then, let’s move out.”

As they moved down the tunnel they began to notice changes, the air was just that bit fresher, it wasn’t as hot and stuffy as it used to be and off in the distance they could see a faint glow of light, which wasn’t daylight but it meant the station had power. As they came closer they became more aware of their surroundings and increasingly nervous about the coming moments. It looked as though there was one bend left then they would be able to see the entrance of the terminal itself. They began looking for maintenance doors and shafts for an alternate way into the station.

Peter had been looking off to right side of the track and even though he was in his fifties his was still incredibly fit for his age and his eyes hadn’t given up on him yet. He managed to spot an old metal door off to the right of the tracks just before the bend began. Quickly they moved to the door which was shut but badly rusted. There was no way the door was going to open without force. Pete had reached the door first; he placed his hands on the face of the door and made an attempt to push it. The door wouldn’t budge even with a large man like Pete attempting to pry it open it was rusted shut.

“I’m sorry,” said Peter as Edward moved over to the door,

Edward just put his hand on the shoulder of Pete and smiled. Edward had been augmented with cybernetics after the men had fought against the Enclave for the Brotherhood back a few years ago. Ed had managed to get himself killed in the final battle but was brought to life with prototype technology founded by the Enclave. Edward was stronger than both Patrick and Peter combined. All Edward had to do was walk up to the door grab it with one hand and tear it open as if it was made out of paper. The door still had the last laugh as the noise that came from opening was enough to ruin their stealth approach. The noise echoed down the tunnels as Edward turned around.

“Let’s go, we can move quicker now,”

The three men entered and began traversing through the narrow corridors of the maintenance route. They followed the signage towards the main centre of the terminal. Soon their surroundings began to change, from old metal and pipes to tiling and solid concrete walls. They were getting closer and everywhere they went they were lit up thanks to the electricity being online. They all began to move a lot quicker now, Patrick wasn’t sure if it was because they were trying to get the drop on whatever was out there or if it was just because they hadn’t seen the outside world in so long.

Finally they reached a door at the end of a long hallway which simply read ‘Grand Central Terminal’ in old faded writing. They formed up next to the door, breaching as they were taught, Edward was first opening the door just a crack and surveying what he could see. He then flung open the door to the right, quickly moving forward and making sure the left flank was clear by yelling “Clear,”. Peter was next, right behind Edward, he moved forward but towards the right in the direction of the door. Again he yelled “Clear,” as Patrick followed right up the middle scanning and surveying the area.

“Clear,” He yelled as the surroundings began to sink in. The sun almost glistened as it shone through the glass arches that encircled the station. Its light, although blinding for a moment was warm and soothing, it wasn’t hot and stuffy like the underground heat. It had been so long since any of them had seen the sunlight, that for a moment they gave in and let their guard down but only for a moment. Then in came reality, crashing down like a meteorite, the picturesque moment was shattered. Looking around the station was a battleground, the walls were littered with bullet holes and blood, the floor was much the same. You could see chunks of concrete missing and scorch marks from smaller explosions. Rubble and rubbish were everywhere and even the glass which the warming sun shone through was cracked and broken. This definitely was not the sign of a sanctuary.

Cautiously Edward took point and they began to move from their side entrance and into the main hall of the terminal. The more they looked around the more they knew they were in trouble, it was a strange scene. Even though there had clearly been some large battles in this place, there were no signs of people alive, or even people. There weren’t even signs of creatures or animals, there were no bodies, no beds, no remains, absolutely nothing. Just clear signs that people had attacked each other.

“I don’t understand,” said Peter, “It just doesn’t make any sense, I mean even if this were a raiders camp or even some gang there would be something. Food, water, guns, bodies, anything!”

“I know,” replied Edward, “This is a strange place and something is very wrong. Let’s just keep moving, the whole city cannot be like this.”

They began to move out the main entrance, constantly scanning for life. Outside the men became even more dumbfounded, New York appeared unscathed by the Great War, as if the bombs had not hit the city or even come close. The buildings stretched high into the sky; the three men below had never seen such things, never buildings that high. Though time had attacked the city, eventually the concrete had grown weak and unable to hold such unimaginable weight. Many buildings and districts had crumbled which gave them an eerie feel of home, back in D.C.

As they stood there in awe, Patrick noticed something, something odd. On every corner, down every street there was a video camera, there were hundreds of them and that was only from what Patrick could see. He hadn’t noticed anything inside the station but maybe because it was quite normal to have them in a building like that but this was definitely not normal.

“Look,” said Patrick, “look at all these recording cameras, there is so many of them,” Patrick began to look a bit closer at them, noticing that they all had flickering red lights just under the lens, some were even moving.

“I think, I think they’re operational,” Patrick was now whispering.

“This one is following us,” Peter said as he pointed to the camera closest to them.

Surely enough as they moved so did the camera, if they moved too far; the next camera would pick them up.

“Hello? Is there anybody here? Is anybody watching us?!” cried Edward.

Silence, there was no answer.

“Wait what is that?” said Patrick as he pointed to a large crate in the middle of the road just a couple of blocks away.

“Let’s find out,” Peter said as he led the three towards it.

As they got closer they realized the crate was covered in a cloth and it wasn’t an ordinary cloth, it was made into a parachute. The crate itself was turned over, on its side and the contents had spilled out onto the road. To the men’s shock it was a supply crate, full of tinned food, canteens of purified water and plenty of ammo and grenades. It was simply too good to be true.

“Ambush?!” Patrick yelled as he couldn’t believe his eyes,

The three did a 360, scanning the area.

“No,” said Edward, “they would have attacked by now and besides this place is just too strange, it’s something more than this and I bet it has something to do with those cameras.”

Suddenly a microphone crackled to life, it then let out a high pitched noise, and then it transformed into clapping. A bizarre voice then came over the microphone, it almost sounded like a juvenile but clearly deranged.

“Well done! You almost guessed it! It’s not an ambush and it does have something to do with these cameras. Wanna know what it is?” The men looked at each other, still not believing what they were hearing, “Times up, it’s a game! A really fun game played by any and all who enter. All you need to do to play is pick up my presents!”

Clearly the man behind the voice was deranged.

Edward shook his head, “No thank you,”

“But you don’t really have a choice you see. These are my supplies, so if you take them and try to leave, my robots will be kind enough to meet you back at the station and turn you to dust. Even with those supplies those robots will be hard to take down! If you choose not to play my game and leave without the supplies, I will not stop you but good luck leaving this island because you just came through the only way in and the way back will be a lot harder with no supplies. So you can either definitely die, or you can play and maybe you will live,” The voice began to sound cruel and unforgiving,

“Ok, so if we were to play your game, how would we play?” asked Peter cautiously.

“It’s very simple, it’s a 1 in 300 chance of winning, I call it ‘The Countdown’ where we count from 300 people down to 1, then that person gets to leave and live. Now you guys are lucky as there are 3 of you, making the perfect 300 so that’s why I didn’t kill any of you when you entered. So now I’ve dropped the crates and we can begin, although some people have started early and now the number is down to 263 but it was 300 in total! This will be very exciting; I’ve never had the opportunity to see the mighty ‘Brotherhood of Steel’ in action, so get a move on, before you die!”

The voice crackled into laughter then faded away. Edward looked at Pete, who just stood there puzzled; Patrick didn’t understand either and turned to Edward to speak.

“Do you think he is mad? Or is he serious?”

Edward pondered for a moment, “I think he’s both mad and serious, quickly gather what supplies you can, we’ll go building to building until we find contact with someone, whether their friend or foe.”