It did not take long for the two power-armor trotting adventurers of William Abrams and Quinn Bradley to find shelter within the area. After all, the buildings of the town were mostly intact, despite the constant raids from bandits and subversive groups such as driving away most everyone in this town. There may have once been a thriving commune, however, through acts of violence, acts of god, and monetary problems, many were forced to abandon the places they once called home in favor of safer cities under protection.
It was truly disgusting to Quinn. These sorts of individuals were the sort of people who Quinn hated the most; those who cannot be reasoned with, despite the overwhelming odds stacked against them. Truly, one could consider these simplistic individuals, after only valuables and the like, bringing wanton destruction within their wake, those without a future. Those who would deprive others of their future. It was not something that sat well with Quinn. Although not a "hero of justice", there was no way she could approve of such actions.
Though Quinn had hoped originally to speak with William about certain incidents that occurred, she had informed the other that they should rest for the time being. After all, piloting her "Darius" was not something to take lightly. It was a device that utilized the user's energy to enhance every fiber of their being in both combat and mechanical application; a device that would, if under prolonged use without rest, danger the user's life. It was a device that could be considered a true "double edged sword", however, utilizing the "Darius", Quinn was able to achieve feats in battle many others could consider "impossible".
There was so much she wanted to ask William. The two had not seen one another in years, both going dark within their years. They were not able to contact one another, despite their political importance within their respective factions. William was the pride of the Abrams, driving their production forward. Or at least, he was. Quinn was the head inventor of the Bradleys, both rivaling one another in prowess.
But that was not the main focus of Quinn’s questions.
There had been events which changed Quinn’s life somewhat recently; Events that seem to have sparked out of nothing. Events that would leave the weaker of mind without the desire to push forward.
However, Quinn was not most people.
She was strong.
She had skill.
She was educated more than most.
It would come as no surprise that after her world was changed, she would continue forward. After all, the only way to a brighter tomorrow is to fight all adversities which might prevent one from achieving their goals.
Either way, Quinn was tired, and she was sure that William was as well. Though there is no rest for the “wickd”, there is sleep.
It was that dream again.
The same Quinn had many times in the past.
She was younger. Not by many years, but younger none the less. She was but a girl, however, she was mature. Quinn had been one of the greatest minds of the military-industrial complex. As heir to one of the largest military conglomerates, she had been taught the trade that her family had been continuing for decades. Innovation is the greatest importance when it comes to warfare as well as the cheapness one can produce results with, and one must keep ahead of the competition to remain innovative. However, there were those who would come to dislike the Bradleys. After all, one always becomes jealous of success, and considering their position in the world, the Bradleys could be considered successful.
That was the reason “they” came. Or at least, this is the reason that Quinn had figured they had come.
“They” were numerous. Though the private estate of the Bradleys was well protected, there was no way that the trained guards could overwhelm such a numerical superiority. As such, the defense crumbled under the might of the attackers.
Though “they” might have seemed like typical bandits, there was no way that they did not have purpose; external funding and the like was probably utilized by those who despised the Bradleys to smite them down whist they did not have countermeasures. Before Quinn was her father; someone she had come to respect and care for, killed in cold blood by these individuals. She could not believe that the person she had looked up to all this time to be killed. She refused this notion, despite the truth being obvious.
Despite the warm, fresh blood now staining the floor.
Despite his lifeless corpse now sprawling itself out.
“F-father…”
“R-run,” his fading voice attempted to croak out before he had succumb to his injuries.
Quinn had awoken in a cold sweat.
How many times had this dream been repeated? She had lost count by now, but it was well more than twenty.
She could not allow the past to be but a ghost to her. She had to press forward.
And there was one person who could assist her. She had various questions for William. After all, the other had promised to answer her questions in the morning. Therefore, she would not
…but
…but
…But
She had enough. He would not even budge, staying perfectly still with a seemingly content look upon his face, much to Quinn’s chagrin.
“WAKE UP ALREADY!” she shouted, relentlessly pestering the other in a shaking manner.
How could someone she remembered strong act so leisurely. Sleep was important, but such would simply cause one to become a lazy dullard. And Quinn could not have that from someone destined to be her “beloved”.
"...idiot..."