Megaton was never quiet, but it was changing. The caravan rolled through the gates, brahmin groaning, traders calling out to familiar faces. Ash noticed it right away: the air of ceremony. Folks clustered around the town's open square, watching as an old man with hair like silver wire passed a badge into the hands of another.
Lucas Simms.
No longer "Deputy Simms." Now Sheriff.
The old man gave a stiff nod, his voice gravel-thin. "Too many winters on these bones. Time someone younger carried the weight."
Lucas clasped the badge to his chest, his jaw set, pride warring with the burden already pressing down on his shoulders. "I'll do right by Megaton. I swear it."
The crowd cheered, clapping hands and stamping boots. Ash lingered at the edge, quiet as always, his coat hiding the new armor beneath.
Lucas caught his eye afterward. "Heard you've been making a name for yourself out there, Ash. Caravans, fights, even saving a settler girl. You've got grit."
Ash only tipped his hat. "Doing what I can."
"Well," Lucas said, "now that I'm sheriff, I've got responsibilities I can't always chase down myself. Raiders, mutants, you name it. Could use someone like you. Not as law, not yet. But as a hand I can trust when things get mean."