So....It's been a while since I've done a fan-fic. I've had several projects such as the Dean Domino one, but the only one I've ever fully finished is Ancient Hysteria. I'm not even entirely satisfied with the way that turned out, simply because I have heavily matured as a writer over the last year. With that being said, over the last four months I've had a lot of inspiration for writing about the Fallout Universe again, and I'd enjoy sharing it with the forums. Posting tendencies will probably be twice a week from me. Enjoy.

My other two fan-fics:
Ancient Hysteria: http://www.gamesas.com/topic/1368688-ancient-hysteria-a-prequel-to-fallout-new-vegas/page__hl__ancient%20hysteria
The Everlasting Show: http://www.gamesas.com/topic/1384976-an-everlasting-show-the-journal-of-dean-domino/page__hl__dean%20domino

Prologue

A man relaxed on his bed in quiet solitude; there was no sound around. It was quite peculiar. There was only the sharp, deafening silence that filled Vault 11. He dreaded the day, tomorrow, in which he would turn eighteen; the day that he would be eligible to become Overseer. Overseer, he thought. Something like this seemed so distant in my younger years but it becomes ever more salient as my youth has flashed by. When I was young, there was only the carefree safety of this place. We truly believed that this vault was a utopia. It was only a lie. A haze that covered our eyes; it kept us separate from the “advlt” world.

Tonight is the border between innocence and maturity, and I only sit here, waiting for innocence to fade as I look into a cold future inside of this hole. I would not choose to turn back. Nor do I wish to move forward. Even if I turned back now, the thought of Overseer has never been so real to me until right now. My dread for eligibility would only be prolonged. Moving forward means that I have to accept something that I truly do not. I have to accept something that tears at my heart every time it comes to my mind, he thought.

An old idea that had been stirring in his mind came to place; the thought of killing for the sake of nothing but the pathetic word of old world ghosts; this sickens me. Every year, a new Overseer, whether it would be an elder, father, loving wife, or criminal, takes the stride to their new office and they sit. They sit for a while until the thought truly processes into their minds; they only have a year left to live. That’s when the violence and controversy begins. That’s when an entire political war erupts, and the rest of Vault 11 has front-row seats to the show. Soon after, the officials who run the whole “Overseer” shindig then step forward; the Justice Bloc. The Overseer clamors to direct its own fate, but alas, that freedom was confiscated the day that the cruel people of Vault 11 had elected the Overseer.

The day that the Overseer reaches acceptance of its situation is the day that Vault 11 goes under. We call this event “dark day.” It comes at different times of the year, depending on the Overseer. The individual shuts down. He-or-she only waits to die. The Overseer certainly does not give a single [censored] about the people who had elected him to be killed. The Justice Bloc tries desperately to patch things together in time for the next Overseer. The current one then disappears somehow and is never heard from again. I have lived through this event nearly eighteen times, and the Justice Bloc has always succeeded in their endeavors. I wait with avid optimism that on one day; one glorious day, they will finally fail. That on one day, the twisted people who call this place “home” will know peace.

The day of April 14, 2273 ends as Jonathan Swope turns eighteen; thus beginning a new chapter of his life in Vault 11.