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And with that, eight Sentinels, 15 trucks, eight Humvees, and over 150 soldiers rumbled out of the Republic's heart. Toward the storm. Toward the Castle. Toward the Queen.
The convoy rolled like a thundercloud over the cracked and weed-choked roads, moving as a single steel beast. Wheels clattered and growled, suspensions shuddered under weight, and the eight Sentinels loomed above all — towering mobile war machines grinding forward with a slow, ominous tempo. The eight Humvees swept both flanks, machine gun turrets swiveling in rhythm with their drivers' scanning eyes. Trucks rumbled in formation between them, weighted with troops, ammunition, and resolve.
Inside the lead Humvee, Sico rode shotgun, one hand on the dash, the other holding his field radio handset to his mouth.
"Contact the Castle," he said, voice low but urgent. "Now."
Preston glanced at him, then tapped into the Republic's secure relay frequency, tuning in to a shortwave encrypted signal. He held the mic to his mouth. "This is Alpha Convoy One, en route to Fort Independence. Castle Command, come in. Over."
There was a burst of static. Then a clatter — not feedback, but real noise bleeding through the transmission: gunfire, shouting, something like a shell burst in the background.
And then came Ronnie Shaw's voice, sharp and taut with pressure.
"Alpha Convoy, this is Castle Command," she barked over the noise. "Damn good to hear from you."
Sico leaned forward, snatching the mic from Preston's hand.
"Ronnie. What's the situation?" His voice was clipped, coiled.
Another burst of static, and then more background noise — the unmistakable rhythm of automatic gunfire, the heavier boom of 40mm grenade launchers. A moment later, Ronnie answered, yelling over it all.
"We got another horde, Sico. Bigger than the last one. They're coming in waves — not just hatchlings, spitters, and kings this time. Saw a couple of hunters out near the surf. Whole bastards are charging the southern seawall!"
Sico's eyes narrowed. "Damage?"
"They've taken chunks out of the gate already. Breached the first layer of outer fence an hour ago. We're holding the wall, but we're stretched thin. Artillery's been firing non-stop, but we can't hit inland targets — they're too damn close to the structure."
Behind her voice, a cacophony raged. The deep THOOM of Castle artillery shook through the channel, underscored by the constant rattle of rifles and the shriek of acid hitting metal.
Another voice — one of her gunners, probably — shouted something indistinct in the background, and then Ronnie barked, "No, not there! The corner tower! Hit that clutch before they crawl under it!"
Then she was back on the line, winded and furious. "We've held them off so far, but another big push like this and they'll breach. We can't see a Queen yet, but the way they're moving — organized, fast — it's only a matter of time."
Sico pressed the mic close. "Hold the line. Reinforcements are twenty minutes out. We've got Sentinels. Heavy load. Tell your boys to keep their heads down and make every round count. When we get there, we light up that beach."
"Copy that," Ronnie said, her voice steel despite the chaos. "We'll hold. Just don't be late."
The radio clicked off.
Inside the Humvee, silence reigned for a few seconds. Even the engine seemed quieter, as if holding its breath.
Then Preston muttered, "Sounds like hell."
Sico turned his eyes forward again, jaw clenched. "Then let's bring a little with us."
He tapped his radio again, switching to the convoy-wide channel.
"All units, this is Commander Sico," he said, calm but commanding. "We've got confirmed enemy engagement at the Castle. Defensive lines are under heavy assault. Prepare for combat arrival. Repeat, prepare for combat arrival. Check armor seals, charge cells, lock ammo feeds. We're not rolling into a fort. We're rolling into a warzone."
The replies came in bursts from Humvee gunners and Sentinel pilots:
"Copy that."
"Prepping charges."
"Turrets hot."
"Power Armor teams confirming seals and charge integrity."
In the truck bed just behind the lead Humvee, MacCready cocked his rifle with a grin. "Told you it was seafood night," he said to no one in particular. A few grunts around him gave low chuckles, but none of them lacked focus. Eyes were sharp, grips were tight.
Beside him, Robert adjusted the strap on his medical satchel and looked to the rear of the truck, watching the Sentinels lumber behind them like titans summoned from some ancient war. There was something in the way they moved — slow, inevitable, like they weren't just machines but judgment given form.
The terrain changed as the convoy crossed the bridge at Nahant. The cracked road narrowed, with rusted-out guardrails and overgrown grass making the path tight and dangerous. The air began to shift, too — that humid, briny scent of the Atlantic creeping in as they neared the coast.
The Castle came into view like a bastion on fire.
From the top of the bridge, they could see it through the sea mist and smoke — its crumbling stone walls holding fast against chaos, but just barely. The southern wall flashed with muzzle bursts and trailing fire. Dark shapes swarmed the coastline, and each wave that hit the seawall was like a tide of living death. Mirelurks by the dozens — hatchlings darting like armored crabs, spitters firing green gobs of acid up the battlements, larger warriors crawling over dead kin to reach the base of the gate.
And over it all, the steady rhythm of the Castle's old-world artillery firing eastward to the beach. The blasts lit up the surf like distant lightning. But the guns couldn't turn inland. The hordes too close to the stone walls were untouched by the Castle's big guns.
Sico didn't need more than a heartbeat.
"Stop the column!" he barked into his comms. "Sentinels — deploy!"
The four giant tanks rumbled forward like beasts loosed from chains. Their command AI systems synced wirelessly with Sico's relay, responding instantly. Each tracked unit hissed steam as their cannons locked into forward elevation. Their pilot lights blinked amber, then burned red.
"Prepare for live fire," Sico said, standing up in the Humvee, gripping the side rail with one hand, radio in the other. "Sentinel crews, you are clear to fire on sight. Prioritize the area around the southern gate. Do not let them breach."
Across the broken slope below the bridge, the Sentinels locked position. Their legs sank into bracing stances, stabilizers extending into the cracked asphalt.
"Firing positions confirmed," a Sentinel unit barked back. "Target acquisition underway."
Within seconds, the cannons began to boom.
One. Then two. Then all four opened up.
The shockwave punched through the air. Massive rounds sailed over the heads of the convoy and hammered into the Mirelurk horde with bone-shattering force. Explosions rolled along the coastline like a drumbeat of judgment. Carapaces cracked. Acid sacs burst. Hatchlings vanished into sprays of gore. And still, the tanks fired.
Sico keyed his comm to the Castle.
"Ronnie!" he shouted. "Our Sentinels are shelling the beach. Hold fire and keep your men clear of the impact zone!"
Her voice came back through the haze and gunfire. "We see 'em! Hell yeah, that's what I'm talking about! Keep it up, Commander!"
He didn't waste a second. "Ronnie — when we clear the swarm near the gate, open up. I want your four internal Sentinels to roll out and reinforce us. We've got armor up here and we're flanking from the north. Once those inside are out, seal it again and hold."
"Copy that," she said, her voice breathless but sharp. "You'll get your opening. We'll have the hinges hot and ready."
Sico turned from the radio, firelight reflected in his eyes. The smell of smoke and the sea filled the air. He looked to Preston, MacCready, and Robert, each already standing beside the lead Humvee, waiting for orders.
"This is it," Sico said, voice rising over the chaos. "You each take one hundred. Preston, MacCready — you're taking three trucks each, supply and troop. When the Castle opens the gate, you push in fast. Get in, unload, fortify. Help hold the southern wall from the inside."
Preston gave a firm nod, checking the clip on his rifle. "We'll seal the breach."
MacCready slapped the side of his truck. "Been a while since I shot from a rampart. Should be fun."
Sico then turned to Robert, his expression shifting — not softer, but more weighted. "You're staying with me. You and your squad come with the main force. We'll flank the horde from the east. The Sentinels will keep shelling. The eight Humvees will cover us with machine gun fire. Power Armor squad is our front line."
Robert adjusted his gloves, one brow rising. "How wide's the flank?"
Sico stepped to the edge of the incline and pointed to the east, where a curve in the coastline created a small rise leading toward the water. "There. We hit them at an angle, draw their attention off the Castle. You and I — we keep our troops tight. Keep the medics alive. Keep the heavies moving."
Robert gave a single nod, already relaying instructions into his unit's field comms. "Understood. We'll be ready."
Sico shouted into the convoy-wide channel. "Final checks! Troop squads — gear up, safeties off. Power Armor — I want you full charge and leading our spear. Humvees, provide suppressing fire on my command. All teams — we move in ninety seconds."
A rising roar answered him. The war machine was awake.
Power Armor units stepped down from their holding trucks, the heavy slam of their boots cracking pavement. Painted in the Freemasons Republic livery — deep indigo and white — the armored troops stomped into position like walking tanks. Some carried Gatling lasers, others heavy flamer units or modified miniguns with coolant vents hissing steam.
Beside them, engineers armed with missile launchers and rail-shotguns fanned out, checking straps and reloads.
MacCready and Preston gave their men the go-sign. The two squads began moving — one toward the left approach, the other toward the main gate.
Overhead, a low howl echoed — part storm wind, part creature. Something huge stirred beneath the surface of the sea.
Sico heard it, too. His jaw clenched. "No delays," he muttered. "We move before she shows."
The Sentinels fired again. The explosions carved deep wounds in the beachside swarm. A moment later, Sico's radio cracked.
"This is Castle Command!" Ronnie shouted. "Opening the gate!"
From the stone fortress below, the main southern gate groaned and shifted — a great iron-and-timber draw sealing grooved with centuries of grit. It shuddered, then slowly began to rise.
Four Castle Sentinels rumbled out in formation, their treads shrieking over the cobbled entrance. They immediately turned to form a rear arc behind the breach, preparing to defend their own exit with their backs to the Castle wall. The gate began closing again the moment they cleared.
Preston and MacCready's trucks raced down the incline.
Gunfire crackled from the parapets. Mirelurks turned, sensing new prey — but then the two squads of Republic soldiers disembarked mid-roll, leaping from the troop trucks and opening fire in a tight column formation. Preston led from the front, rifle cracking with every breath. MacCready swept to the right, rifle up, calling targets like a man born to war.
"Cover the wall! Lock down the tower breach! Engineers — get those turrets hot!"
The Castle erupted in new light and sound. The interior defenders roared as fresh blood joined the battle.
Sico didn't wait.
"Now!" he shouted, turning to Robert and the Power Armor squad. "We go!"
The eastern flank surged forward. The four Sentinels at their back opened fire once more, shells streaking just meters overhead. The Humvees moved with them in a staggered V formation, their twin-mounted machine guns pouring fire into the seething horde. Mirelurk heads exploded. Limbs flew. Still they came.
Sico ran with the frontline, rifle up, ducking beneath a machine gun turret's arc as it swept fire over his head. Beside him, Robert moved calmly, his medics sticking close behind under the cover of armored shields and support infantry. The Power Armor squad stomped into the thick of it like divine wrath, flamers roaring as they incinerated the front wave of Mirelurks clawing up the bluff.
A Hunter leapt from the water's edge — huge, spiked, deadly.
Sico dropped to one knee, sighted, and fired.
Three rounds. One to the eye. One to the throat. One to the acid sac. The thing exploded in a mist of green and bone.
The tide was shifting.
With the Castle reinforced from within, and Sico's hammer striking from the flank, the Mirelurks lost their formation. Hatchlings scattered. Larger creatures faltered. Acid spit turned wild, missing its mark. The four new Sentinels began inching forward in formation, bracketing the horde with cannon fire while the eight Humvees pulled up behind them, guns still chattering.
Overhead, the sea groaned again. The Queen was coming.
But they would be ready.
Sico dropped his rifle for a moment, slung it across his back, and stepped up beside one of the Power Armor captains.
"Push hard. We clear the rest of them now. Leave nothing to crawl."
The captain gave a sharp nod. "With pleasure, Commander."
With that, the horde was slowly pushed back. Inch by brutal inch, the combined might of the Freemasons Republic crushed through the Mirelurk ranks. The power-armored vanguard surged ahead, flamers roaring, barrels glowing cherry red. Explosions from the Sentinels rang in a steady rhythm like war drums, pulverizing the blood-soaked beach into a churned mess of shell fragments, acid burns, and shattered carapace.
And then, almost as if on some shared command, the Mirelurks began to fall back.
First the hatchlings peeled away, scrabbling across the sand in tight clusters. Then the spitters turned, retreating in a strange, synchronized motion, their stubby limbs flinging up sand as they scurried. The warriors held their ground longer — screeching, snapping their claws at the advancing troops — but even they began to move, slowly, in a reluctant withdrawal. The entire swarm shifted like a tide going out, crawling and dragging their mangled bodies back toward the waterline.
From his vantage just behind the lead line, Sico narrowed his eyes, lowering his rifle.
"They're not routed," he muttered.
Robert stepped up beside him, helmet visor open, sweat streaking his temple beneath the pale glow of incoming cannon fire. "They're pulling back… that's organized."
"Exactly," Sico said, voice grim. "That's not panic. That's a retreat command."
And there was only one thing that could unify a horde like that. Only one thing they listened to.
The Queen.
From the shoreline, the groaning of the sea grew deeper, more resonant. It was no longer the roar of waves or the wash of the tide. It was guttural, monstrous — the sound of something ancient and hateful rising from the deep.
Sico stepped forward, waving off a Sentinel's targeting laser as it prepared to fire. "Cease fire. Let them go."
One by one, the guns fell silent. The Sentinels' turrets hissed back into neutral positions. The Humvees rolled to a halt, their gunners scanning the surf through smoke and drifting sand.
Across the blood-drenched beach, the Mirelurk horde scuttled backward until they reached the dark, foaming edges of the Atlantic. There, in the shallows, they reformed — not as a broken mob, but a waiting army.
And still, the Queen did not rise.
She lurked beneath the surface, just out of view, but her presence was felt in every heartbeat. The men standing near the water felt it first — a trembling under their boots, the eerie vibration that came not from movement but from sheer proximity to something vast. The sea itself seemed to hesitate.
"She's watching us," Robert said quietly.
Sico didn't speak. He just stared toward the surf, his jaw set. In his mind, he could picture her: massive, armored like a tank, eyes like wet obsidian, limbs as thick as the trunks of dead trees. A monster that had once ruled the ocean floor now ready to reclaim the land.
Behind him, Preston's voice crackled through the squad channel. "Castle's secured. Wall's holding. We lost a few, but it could've been worse. What's the situation outside?"
Sico pressed his comm. "Temporary retreat. The horde's pulled back to the coast. But this isn't over. The Queen's out there. She's seen what we can do. Next time, she'll come herself."
There was a long pause on the line.
Then Preston replied, voice low. "Then we hit her harder."
"Damn right," Sico said.
He turned to the nearest Sentinel officer — a man in heavy blast armor who had been coordinating turret sync with the tanks. "Get the artillery online and dial in beach coordinates. I want a constant watch on the water. If anything big even twitches, I want a shell in it before it can crawl out."
"Yes, Commander."
"And bring up the supply trucks. We'll establish a forward line right here. Barbed wire, mines, turret platforms. We're digging in."
The man saluted and ran off. Already, squads of engineers and logistics crew were moving down the slope from the convoy, bringing crates, setting markers, mapping the terrain.
Robert stayed at Sico's side, watching the waves roll in, dark and restless.
"She's not finished," he said.
"No," Sico replied. "But neither are we."
The two men stood in silence, the wind pulling the scent of smoke and salt through the blood-soaked air. Behind them, the Freemasons Republic dug in — scarred, bloodied, but unbowed.
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• Name: Sico
• Stats :
S: 8,44
P: 7,44
E: 8,44
C: 8,44
I: 9,44
A: 7,45
L: 7
• Skills: advance Mechanic, Science, and Shooting skills, intermediate Medical, Hand to Hand Combat, Lockpicking, Hacking, Persuasion, and Drawing Skills
• Inventory: 53.280 caps, 10mm Pistol, 1500 10mm rounds, 22 mole rats meat, 17 mole rats teeth, 1 fragmentation grenade, 6 stimpak, 1 rad x, 6 fusion core, computer blueprint, modern TV blueprint, camera recorder blueprint, 1 set of combat armor, Automatic Assault Rifle, 1.500 5.56mm rounds, power armor T51 blueprint, Electric Motorcycle blueprint, T-45 power armor, Minigun, 1.000 5mm rounds, Cryolator, 200 cryo cell, Machine Gun Turret Mk1 blueprint, electric car blueprint, Kellogg gun, Righteous Authority, Ashmaker, Furious Power Fist, Full set combat armor blueprint, M240 7.62mm machine guns blueprint, Automatic Assault Rifle blueprint, and Humvee blueprint.
• Active Quest:-