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He lingered there in the corridor for a moment longer, eyes on that closed door, listening for any sound from within. Then he squared his shoulders and took a slow step back, letting them have their time, but ready to move the second they needed him.
The next day, Nora found herself standing outside Sico's office door in the Freemasons HQ, fingers hesitating for just a second on the frame before she stepped in.
The room was dimmer than most of the base — a single desk lamp casting warm light across stacks of mission reports, half-unrolled maps, and an old coffee mug that had clearly seen better days. Sico was leaning over the desk, one hand braced on a folder, his other absently turning a pen between his fingers. He looked up when she entered.
"Morning," he said, his voice carrying that mix of casual and sharp focus he always seemed to keep. "You sleep?"
Nora didn't bother answering that — they both knew she hadn't. Instead, she took a seat opposite him, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders.
"I'm… going to keep doing my job," she began, her voice steady but low. "My patrols, the assignments you give me — all of it. But there's going to be times I'll need to leave, maybe without warning. If Shaun's condition changes, or if I just… need to be there."
Sico set the pen down and leaned back in his chair, studying her for a moment. She expected him to hesitate, maybe to remind her how important her duties were. Instead, he just nodded once.
"That's okay," he said simply. "We'll make it work."
Nora let out a slow breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. She wasn't looking for permission exactly, but his lack of pushback still loosened something in her chest.
"Good," she said, glancing briefly toward the maps on his desk before meeting his eyes again. "Because I'm not going to choose between the two."
"You won't have to," he assured her. Then he stood, the legs of his chair scraping softly against the concrete floor. "Speaking of — grab your gear. We're heading to the Institute."
Her brow furrowed. "Now?"
"Now," he confirmed. "Mel and his team are already there with Curie. I want to see the situation for myself. And… we're bringing backup."
That made her tilt her head. "Backup?"
Sico's mouth quirked, just faintly. "Fifty soldiers."
Her eyebrows rose. "Fifty? Isn't that a bit—"
"Excessive?" he finished for her. "Not when it comes to the Institute. Yeah, they've got their synths, but I don't trust a security force that's programmed to follow orders without question. A human element changes things — gives us eyes and ears that aren't wired into the same system."
Nora leaned back in her chair, mulling that over. She'd seen what synths could do, both good and bad. "You think it's necessary?"
"I think it's smart," Sico replied. "It's not about replacing their security — it's about supplementing it. If something happens down there, I don't want to rely entirely on a system the Institute controls."
The Freemasons HQ training yard had a sharp morning chill to it, the kind that clung to your breath and made metal gear bite cold against your palms. Soldiers were already gathering when Sico and Nora stepped out — most of them in standard-issue combat armor, rifles slung comfortably but ready. The murmur of conversation stilled the moment Sico's boots hit the gravel, replaced by the familiar quiet of disciplined anticipation.
Nora stayed a step to his right, eyes sweeping the group. These weren't just any troops — they were the kind Sico trusted for operations that mattered. Faces she recognized from skirmishes and long treks across the Commonwealth. Men and women who could take orders without losing their heads, who could fight without losing their humanity.
"Alright," Sico called, voice carrying across the yard without needing to shout. "You've all been briefed on the basics, but let me make it clear — this is not a raid, not an occupation. You're going to the Institute as part of a joint security arrangement. You'll be guests, but guests who are armed and ready to act if something goes sideways."
He let that sink in a moment, scanning the faces in front of him. "Synth security will still be in place down there. We're not replacing them. We're… adding another layer. You see something questionable, you report it. You see a threat, you neutralize it. Simple as that."
A few nods rippled through the formation. No one asked questions — not here, not now. That was part of why Sico had chosen them.
Nora stepped forward next, resting her hand on her Pip-Boy. "When we arrive, stay in formation. Don't wander off unless ordered. The Institute's layout is… not friendly to newcomers, and getting separated isn't just dangerous — it's a waste of time. We're moving as a unit."
She keyed in the teleportation signal sequence, the familiar hum of the Pip-Boy interface lighting up her wrist. "On my mark."
The soldiers shifted slightly, tightening their grips on their gear. Sico gave her a nod.
"Mark," she said.
A deep, rising thrum filled the air, the same strange vibration that always came before the light. The world tilted, blurred, and then fractured into a cascade of blinding white. The air felt thin for half a heartbeat, and then—
They were in the Institute.
The sterile brightness hit first — polished floors reflecting the clean, almost clinical white walls. The hum of hidden machinery was constant, subtle but omnipresent, like the heartbeat of the place itself. Even after all the time since they'd first set foot here, it still felt like stepping into another world entirely.
"Allie Filmore," Nora murmured, spotting the woman striding toward them with her usual composed efficiency. She had her clipboard tucked under one arm, hair perfectly in place, her gaze already flicking between Sico, Nora, and the squad of soldiers.
"Welcome," Allie said, her voice polite but brisk. "Mel and his team are currently in Robotics, accompanied by Evan Watson. Curie is in BioScience with Dr. Holdren."
Sico gave a short nod, absorbing that. "Good. I'll want to check in with both groups before we leave."
Allie shifted her weight slightly, her tone taking on a more measured edge. "Before you do… I assume you'll want an update on the general situation since the transition?"
Sico's gaze sharpened. "Yeah. How are the residents? The scientists? Any unrest?"
Allie exhaled, the kind of breath that said she'd been fielding these sorts of questions regularly. "It's… a mixed picture. Most of the civilian residents have adjusted quickly — they care more about stability than about who's technically in charge. As long as the food synthesizers keep working and the lights stay on, they're content."
"And the scientists?" Sico pressed.
Her lips pursed. "They've been… harder to win over. Some still resent the downfall of the Directorate. Others are wary of external oversight. But most have continued their work without direct obstruction. The Freemasons' presence — and your decision to allow research to continue — has kept things from escalating."
"Any trouble?" Nora asked.
"Minor incidents," Allie admitted. "A few heated arguments in the labs, some unauthorized attempts to restrict access to certain files… but nothing that's crossed into sabotage. Your enforcement team has been… persuasive."
Sico didn't miss the faint edge in her voice, but he let it pass. "Good. Keep it that way. We're here to make sure this place doesn't slide back into the shadows it used to live in."
Allie gave a tight nod, clearly used to his directness. "Understood."
Sico's attention flicked briefly to the soldiers behind them before returning to Allie.
"I'm not here empty-handed," he said. "Brought fifty soldiers with me. They're going to be the human security force here — full time."
Allie's brows lifted ever so slightly. It wasn't much, but for someone like her, it might as well have been wide-eyed shock. "Fifty?" she repeated. "That's… more than a symbolic presence."
"It's meant to be," Sico replied evenly. "And they won't be operating blind. They'll be under the Synth Retention Bureau — which means they're under Nora. Personally."
For a fraction of a second, Allie's gaze darted to Nora, assessing. It wasn't a hostile look, not exactly — but it was the kind of measuring glance you'd give someone who'd just been handed the keys to a very large, very fast vehicle.
"That's… unconventional," Allie said finally. "The SRB's purview has traditionally been—"
"Tracking and retrieving synths," Nora finished for her. "Yeah, I know. But it's also about intelligence gathering, security assessments, and making sure outside threats don't compromise the Institute. Human security fits into that."
Allie's grip on her clipboard tightened a little, but her tone remained smooth. "You understand what you're doing here will change the daily operations. Synth security protocols are… efficient. Predictable. Humans are—"
"Messy?" Sico offered.
She hesitated. "…unpredictable."
"That's the point," Sico said. "I don't want a defense system that can be switched off with a single command. I want people who can think, adapt, and act when the unexpected happens."
Nora added, "And they'll answer to me. Which means you'll have one point of contact for any issues — me. Not fifty different personalities to manage."
Allie's eyes lingered on her a moment longer, as though testing whether this was something Nora had been ordered into, or if she actually wanted the responsibility. The fact was, Nora did want it — or at least, she wanted to make sure if these troops were here, they'd be used right.
Finally, Allie gave a small, deliberate nod. "Very well. I'll have accommodations prepared for them. Training and coordination with synth security will have to begin immediately if we want to avoid… friction."
"I'll handle that," Nora said.
Sico gave a short grunt of approval. "Good. Now, let's see Robotics."
The walk through the Institute was an odd procession — Nora and Sico at the front, Allie matching their pace at one side, the line of armored soldiers moving in precise formation behind them. The sight alone turned heads. Researchers and technicians glanced up from their work as the group passed, some staring openly, others quickly averting their eyes. The quiet conversations that followed in their wake weren't hard to imagine.
The Institute's sterile corridors had always been too clean, too quiet for Nora's liking — but now, with boots thudding in rhythm on the gleaming floors and the muted creak of armor plates shifting, there was a new undercurrent in the air. Not fear exactly… but awareness. A reminder that the Freemasons weren't just a name in the chain of command anymore. They were here.
They passed through one of the central hubs, the atrium above glowing with that soft, indirect light that never seemed to change no matter the hour. Nora caught sight of a few synths moving along the upper levels, their movements smooth and silent as always. One paused to look down at the passing column, its blank expression giving nothing away before it moved on.
When they reached the Robotics wing, the sounds changed — a low hum of machinery, the occasional hiss of hydraulics, muted voices in technical discussion. The air here smelled faintly of heated metal and synthetic lubricants.
The large double doors slid open, and inside, Mel was exactly where Nora expected him to be — standing over a workstation littered with parts, gesturing animatedly to a display while Evan Watson listened with arms folded. Both turned as the group entered.
"Well, this is unexpected," Mel said, eyebrows rising as he took in the soldiers. "Bringing the cavalry, Sico?"
"Something like that," Sico replied.
Evan's gaze swept over the formation, then landed on Nora. "So this is the human element you were talking about."
"Fifty soldiers," Sico confirmed. "They'll be under the SRB — under Nora."
Mel let out a low whistle. "That's… going to stir the pot."
Evan's expression was more guarded. "Synth security isn't going to love it. But… I can see the logic."
Nora stepped forward, glancing around at the busy workshop. "You two managing okay down here?"
"Depends on your definition of 'okay,'" Mel said. "We've been integrating Freemason protocols into synth patrol patterns, trying to add redundancy without breaking the Institute's systems. It's… delicate work."
Evan added, "There's also been resistance from some of the Robotics staff. They're protective of their systems. Having outsiders — human or otherwise — poking around makes them nervous."
"They'll get used to it," Sico said flatly. "Or they won't. Either way, the changes happen."
Mel smirked faintly. "Spoken like a man who's not here to win popularity contests."
Sico didn't dignify that with a response, instead glancing toward the far end of the lab, where a group of synths stood inactive, waiting for whatever came next in their programming queue.
Nora looked to Evan. "Any security breaches?"
"Nothing major," he said. "Couple of unauthorized code alterations — quickly caught and reverted. And one incident with a synth refusing to carry out an order because it conflicted with pre-existing directives. We're looking into that."
Nora filed that away — a synth choosing between directives wasn't exactly common, and it could mean trouble down the road.
"Allie says Curie's in BioScience with Holdren," Sico said, changing the subject. "We'll head there next."
The walk to BioScience was shorter, but the tension felt sharper. This wing was quieter than Robotics — no clanging metal or whirring servos, just the soft beeping of monitoring equipment and the faint hiss of climate control systems. The air was warmer here, humid even, carrying the earthy scent of plants from the hydroponics section.
Nora spotted Curie before they even entered the main lab — she was speaking animatedly with Clayton Holdren over a data terminal, her hands moving almost as much as her voice. Even from a distance, her enthusiasm was palpable.
When she saw them, Curie lit up. "Ah! Bonjour, mes amis!" she exclaimed, stepping away from the terminal to greet them. "You come to see our progress?"
Holdren's greeting was more restrained — a polite nod toward Sico and Nora, a flicker of curiosity toward the soldiers.
"Progress can wait," Sico said. "How's the situation here?"
Curie tilted her head. "In BioScience? Productive, I think. We have… disagreements, of course, but they are about science, not politics."
Holdren's mouth tightened slightly, but he didn't argue. "There's been some tension regarding the Freemasons' oversight. Some of my staff feel… watched."
"Because they are," Sico said without missing a beat. "That's not going to change."
Holdren gave a slow, measured blink. "Of course."
Nora glanced between them. "We're not here to disrupt your work. We're here to make sure the Institute doesn't go back to being the kind of place that made enemies out of the entire Commonwealth."
Holdren didn't answer, but his gaze lingered on her for a moment before returning to his terminal.
Curie, sensing the shift in tone, quickly added, "But! We are making excellent strides in agricultural output and medicinal synthesis. This will help everyone — inside and outside the Institute."
Sico's gaze, which had been lazily sweeping the BioScience wing as if cataloguing its every corner, suddenly stopped. His brow knit into a frown, the lines deepening in a way that Nora immediately recognized — the kind of reaction he got when he saw something that didn't fit, didn't make sense, and wasn't supposed to be here.
There, tucked along the far wall in a glass-walled enclosure — not a huge habitat, but carefully maintained — was something that should not exist in the year 2287.
A gorilla.
Not the faded, brittle skeleton of one. Not a taxidermied specimen, yellowed with age and brittle under the fingers.
No — this one was alive. Breathing. Moving. Sitting in the filtered light with its huge, fur-covered arms resting lazily across its knees, head turning to watch them with eyes that followed like a living thing's. It blinked slowly. Adjusted its position. Even scratched lazily behind one ear with thick, careful fingers.
Sico stopped walking altogether. The soldiers behind him shifted subtly, the kind of instinctive re-positioning that came when the man they followed decided something important was in front of him.
Nora, catching the sudden halt, followed his gaze.
"Oh… yeah," she murmured, half-to herself. She remembered the first time she'd seen it, months ago. It had thrown her just as hard — though maybe for different reasons.
Sico took a step forward, his voice low but edged with genuine disbelief.
"What the hell is that?"
Holdren's eyes flicked toward the enclosure, then back to Sico, as if weighing how much explanation he felt like giving. "That," he began, tone carefully measured, "is one of our synth gorillas."
Sico's head snapped toward him. "Synth… gorilla?"
Holdren clasped his hands behind his back in a posture that looked almost academic, but there was a faint defensive tilt to his shoulders. "A creation of the BioScience division. One of our more… ambitious projects. We attempted to bring back certain species that were lost before the Great War. Not simply as curiosities, but as part of broader ecological research."
Sico looked back at the animal — if you could call it that. Every muscle, every subtle twitch of its head, every blink felt real. Even the way its nostrils flared slightly when it looked at him — as though scenting something unfamiliar — was unnervingly authentic.
"That thing doesn't just look like a gorilla," he said, almost to himself. "It looks perfect. Like it's been… pulled out of time."
Holdren nodded once, as if that were precisely the point. "The level of anatomical accuracy was critical to our research. Their musculature, cardiovascular systems, and neural networks are modeled as precisely as possible from pre-war genetic data, supplemented by synth technology to fill in gaps. They are not merely robotic imitations."
Sico's jaw tightened. "So you made a fake animal that's real enough to fool anyone."
Curie, who had been standing just behind Nora, tilted her head and stepped closer, her curiosity plainly engaged. "It is remarkable work," she said. "From a biological and engineering perspective, c'est incroyable! But… I must admit, I am curious — why the gorilla? There are many species lost to the Great War. Why begin with one so large, so resource-intensive to maintain?"
Holdren spread his hands slightly, as though giving a lecture. "The gorilla was chosen in part because of its complex social behaviors and its genetic proximity to humans. It provides a valuable analogue for studying certain aspects of physiology, neurology, and — in limited ways — sociology. If we can recreate and sustain an organism as complex as a gorilla, then less complex organisms become trivial by comparison."
Sico let out a short, humorless laugh. "So this is your test case. Your proof of concept. 'If we can make King Kong, we can make anything.'"
Holdren's lips pressed into a thin line. "If you want to be reductive about it… yes."
Nora stepped closer to the enclosure, the gorilla's eyes following her with steady, calm attention. There was something unsettling about the way it watched — not threatening, but… aware. She had seen enough synths with blank expressions to know the difference between programming and presence.
It shifted slightly, placing one hand against the glass. The pads of its fingers looked rough, textured, alive. Nora had the sudden, absurd urge to place her own hand on the other side — just to see if it reacted. She resisted.
Sico was still studying the thing like it might suddenly reveal a hidden weapon.
"Let me get this straight," he said slowly. "You've got synths out there fighting, patrolling, doing work that actually keeps this place alive… and in here you've got… whatever this is. How many resources does it take to keep it fed, healthy, running? And what exactly does the Commonwealth get out of this? You planning on setting them loose in the wild like mascots?"
Holdren's eyes narrowed slightly. "The gorillas are not a vanity project. They are part of an ecosystem reconstruction program. One day, when the surface environment stabilizes, these creatures — and others like them — could be reintroduced to restore balance to what's been lost."
"That's if the Brotherhood, the Raiders, the Gunners, and every other lunatic out there don't turn them into trophies first," Sico said flatly.
Nora could feel the temperature in the room drop a degree. The soldiers were watching in still silence now, not moving a muscle. Even Curie had stopped fidgeting.
But Holdren didn't flinch. "Everything worth doing carries risk. We choose projects that will have a lasting impact. This one will."
Sico took a slow step toward the glass, his reflection merging with the gorilla's dark eyes. "Lasting impact, huh? Tell me, Clayton — you make them just like the originals… does that mean they can think like the originals?"
Holdren hesitated — just long enough for Sico to notice. "…To a degree. They are modeled on pre-war behavioral patterns and given a degree of autonomous problem-solving capacity. But their primary role is to serve as research subjects, not independent agents."
Sico's gaze didn't leave the gorilla. "Yeah. I've heard that before. About synths."
Nora glanced at him — she knew exactly what was running through his mind. The parallels were too obvious: an artificial creation, designed to mimic life so perfectly that it blurred the line between imitation and reality. Only this time, it wasn't just human identity at stake. It was nature itself.
The gorilla shifted again, a low, almost inaudible grunt rumbling in its throat.
Sico stepped back finally, his expression unreadable. "Keep your project, Holdren. But I want a full report on how many of these you've got, how they're made, and what control measures you've got in place if one decides it doesn't like living in a glass box anymore."
Holdren inclined his head stiffly. "I'll have it sent to you."
Curie, perhaps sensing the need to break the tension, gave a bright smile. "And perhaps, monsieur Sico, you might appreciate knowing — the same research used here could help us reintroduce less… formidable species. Birds, pollinators, perhaps even fish. The ecosystem could breathe again!"
Sico gave a short nod but didn't answer, as he went to think somehting. Nora who beside him, let her mind on the gorilla's eyes — and the uncomfortable truth that she couldn't tell if they'd been looking at her, or into her.
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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:-