Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The fluorescent lights of the vault hummed, a constant, unwavering drone that had been there for the entirety of Leo Rutherford’s life. Twenty-three years. Twenty-three years he had, more or less, lived in a perfect loop. Leo was, officially, a Vault Technician, Level 3. In Reality, he was a glorified janitor. He tightened bolts on valves, replaced gaskets, calibrated pressure gauges… Tasks that required minimal skill, minimal thought. He could perform them all in his sleep, and often it felt like he did.

His true interest was staring into the flickering green light of his terminal. Within the labyrinthine vault computer network there were fascinating, hidden secrets. Sensors long ignored reported details about the world, both past and present; old libraries and correspondence kept by earlier residents and backed up in forgotten drives, all available in an instant if one knew where to look. On occasion, the vault equipment would pick up signals from the wasteland, briefly turning his terminal into a window to the outside world.

Despite his relative expertise, Leo’s familiarity with the vault’s equipment was largely underappreciated. The First Citizen and the council viewed the vault computer systems as a black box, a necessary evil to be maintained, not understood, and certainly not modified. They valued obedience and efficiency, not curiosity or innovation. Leo’s attempts to suggest improvements were met with polite indifference. He was a tool, a cog in the machine, expected to perform his duties without question or failure.

The endless monotony of Leo’s work gnawed at him, a slow erosion of his spirit. He felt like a prisoner, able to glimpse at the world from his gilded cage but always separated from it. The outer walls of Vault City were the closest he had come to the wider wasteland. Whether it was through the fences of the city wall, or through the glass of his terminal screen, it felt as though something always prevented him from grasping his own future. Instead, he was condemned to live a life planned by those who died more than a century ago. He’d often fantasized about hacking into the Vault’s external communications array – one of those long forgotten “redundant” systems – and sending a signal out into the wasteland, just to see if anyone would respond. But he knew the risks were too great. The First Citizen would not tolerate such insubordination, and he would likely doom everyone he’d ever known. So he remained silent, trapped within the confines of his own mind, dreaming of a life beyond the city limits.

Another workday came to an end. The stale, recycled air of his quarters felt heavier than usual as Leo slumped into his chair. He’d just finished booting his terminal when a flickering light on the screen caught his eye. It was a direct message. From the First Citizen.

His stomach tightened. Direct messages from the First Citizen were rare. And Never good. He clicked on the notification, the luminescent text burning into his retinas.

Rutherford, report to my office tomorrow morning.

Reassignment Pending.

That was it. No explanation. No hint of what reassignment entailed. Just two sentences. A wave of icy fear washed over him, quickly followed by a strange, unsettling excitement. Reassignment could mean anything. A transfer to the hydroponics bay? An assignment outside Vault 8? Or something worse… A small part of him dared to hope. Maybe this was it. A chance to escape the drudgery and finally break free from the endless cycle of maintenance and monotony.

He ran a hand through his blonde hair, searching for clues, for some indication of what awaited him. He remembered rumors, whispers in the mess hall about vault leadership discussing a “sensitive project” with some military types from the NCR. He’d dismissed the rumors as idle gossip, the product of bored minds and overactive imaginations, the NCR had become something of a boogeyman recently, but now the rumors seemed plausible. A knot of anxiety tightened in his stomach, mixed with a strange anticipation.

Leo moved to his bed, a narrow cot, and pulled the thin blanket over his body, the chill of his quarters seeping in. His mind conjured images, fragmented and unsettling. Images of strange machinery, of darkened rooms, and howling creatures. He shivered, dismissing them as a product of his own fear. But the images lingered, a disturbing undercurrent to his thoughts.

Sleep eluded him. He tossed and turned, his mind racing and his body tense. He imagined the First Citizen’s cold, assessing gaze, her lips pursed in a disapproving line. He pictured himself walking into her office, as if walking to his execution. As he finally drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this reassignment wouldn’t just be a change of scenery. It would be a transformation. A descent into something dark, something unforeseeable.

Morning came. The First Citizen’s office was cold and sterile. The only decoration, a panoramic view of Vault City. She sat behind her polished steel desk, her face impassive, with eyes that seemed to look past Leo. She didn’t offer a greeting, simply gesturing to the chair opposite of her.

“Mr. Rutherford…” She began, “Technician, Level 3. Your skills have been… noted. You are being reassigned.”

Leo braced himself, trying to maintain a neutral expression. “Understood, First Citizen.”

“You will be joining a NCR expedition. Their objective is to locate and access a pre-war vault within the ruins of Denver. The area is now referred to as Dog City, I’ve been told.”

“Denver?” Leo repeated, carefully keeping his voice level. “I didn’t realize the NCR had a presence that far from California.”

The First Citizen’s lips curved into a faint, unsettling smile. “That is… by design. This is a sensitive operation, Rutherford. Discretion is paramount.” She handed him a holodisk. “This contains the limited information you need to know. Coordinates, preliminary scans, a roster of your team. Do not seek additional information. It is not in your best interest.”

He took the chip, his fingers brushing against her cold skin. He loaded the disk into his Pip-Boy, pulling up the roster. A handful of NCR enlisted soldiers, a medic, a surveyor, some mercenaries, it was all a little overwhelming. What exactly were they expecting to find?

“What is my role in this expedition, First Citizen?” Leo asked, choosing his words carefully.

The First Citizen’s gaze fixed on his face, her eyes probing, assessing. “You are to provide technical assistance, specifically in accessing the vault’s data archives.” She paused. “You will receive further instructions when you are on site.”

Leo understood with a growing certainty that this was not a normal salvage mission. They were expecting something more than just rusted machinery or supplies. The air in the room felt thick with unspoken secrets. He knew there was something dangerous about this mission, but it was being kept from him. He hesitated before speaking, “Why me?”

There was a long pause before the First Citizen finally responded. “I’m going to level with you Leonard…” She clasped her hands, leaning forward on the desk, “I don’t know what you’re really walking into, and I’m not sure I want to know. Whatever it is, the NCR is tight lipped about it, but it’s definitely important to them. NCR prospectors have been in and out of Denver for some time now and they must have found something they want…” The First Citizen cut her explanation off, stopping to light a cigarette. “Smoke?” She asked.

“No, thank you.”

A glowing ember formed at the end of her cigarette as a white cloud obscured her face. “I didn’t want to send you, or anyone for that matter, but my hands are tied. The NCR is putting a lot of pressure on us.” She spun around in her chair, facing the window. “Whatever it is they expect to find in Denver, they must need someone to get them into the vault or the vault database, you’re the prime candidate.”

“I see…” Leo replied.

The First Citizen turned around again, facing Leo. She leaned forward, her voice taking a conspiratorial tone. “It isn’t clear to me why they requested one of ours instead of keeping the team all NCR, especially given the secrecy. They must have the talent and equipment available to them somewhere, but instead they want our dwindling resources.” She took long drag from her cigarette. “You should know, I didn’t make this decision lightly.”

For the first time in Leo’s life, it felt like the First Citizen might actually care what happens to him. “Thank you.” He choked, unsure of how to respond. “I guess I just… didn’t expect this. It’s a lot to take in.”

“I understand.” She said. “A word of advice, don’t trust the NCR. More importantly, don’t underestimate them.”

The meeting lasted for only a couple minutes. Leo and the First Citizen exchanged formalities, and then he left the room. As soon as the door sealed behind him, the gravity of his reassignment began to set in. He had only three days until he would leave Vault 8, and Vault City, perhaps for good. At least he had been given those three days to prepare.

Leo returned to his room, booting his terminal. He hunched over the flickering screen, scrolling through fragmented files, outdated reports, and heavily redacted Vault-Tec records of Denver. The information was sparse, to say the least. Denver, once a bustling metropolis, was categorized as Destroyed after the bombs fell in 2077. The only Vault on record in the area was Vault 29, about which almost everything was redacted. Only a last minute order redirecting Denver residents from Vault 29 to other vaults remained. There must be another Vault somewhere in the area that wasn’t in the record, but why? Leo continued digging.

There were only two files on Denver from after the Great War, one from almost 50 years ago, and another from only 12 years ago. The original report wasn’t particularly detailed, but it did have some grainy satellite imagery, probably received by some continuous transmission in orbit. The ruins of Denver viewed from above looked empty. Gray, skeletal structures jutting up from the scorched, cracked earth. The newer report was more interesting however. A trader visiting Vault City was detained by security. During his questioning, he mentioned coming from “Dog City,” though it was not his place of origin. Apparently Denver was given this new name on account of the packs of feral dogs roaming its streets. The trader claimed half his caravan was lost to tribals using packs of dogs to herd them like brahmin.

Leo stared at the screen. His stomach churned. He’d always been fascinated by the outside world, drawn to the stories of pre-war civilization. But the reality, as presented in these fragmented reports, was far more terrifying than anything he’d imagined. He pictured himself walking through the ruined streets, surrounded by eyes – cold, calculating, hungry eyes. He imagined the feeling of being hunted.

He stood abruptly, pacing the small confines of his room. He hadn’t prepared for this. He hadn’t trained for this. He was a technician, not a soldier or explorer. He was a man who’d spent his life surrounded by metal and wires. He felt safe in the buzzing lights, the recycled air, the predictable routine. For the first time in years, he appreciated the cage that had always been his home. But he knew, with a growing sense of dread, that it was too late. He was going to Dog City, and there was no turning back.

He needed a distraction, something to clear his head. He left the stifling confines of the vault and headed towards the Vault City courtyard. He walked through the downtown district, passing concrete and greenery. Twilight painted the Nevada sky in bruised purples and orange, it was uncharacteristically beautiful. Leo had only visited the courtyard a handful of times, whenever he was feeling most adventurous. It was the only place open to outsiders, and citizens rarely visited except to get into trouble. It seemed the best place to acclimate himself for his coming journey.

The courtyard was a chaotic sprawl of tents and ramshackle buildings. Dirt roads, barely more than worn paths, snaked between structures, choked with dust and refuse. The prefab buildings of the downtown district were entirely absent here; everything was cobbled together, leaning at precarious angles, patched with whatever scraps people could find.

A haze of smoke hung in the air, smelling of wood, cheap tobacco, and something vaguely acrid. He saw people huddled around small fires. He heard laughter, the strumming of a battered guitar, the clatter of metal on metal. Leo felt uneasy. He was an outsider despite being in his home town, a feeling he could only access here. But even within the concrete walls of Vault City proper, or even Vault 8 itself, he still felt like an outsider, if in a different sense. He caught the eye of a woman leaning against a wall, her expression hard and assessing. She didn’t smile. He quickly looked away, feeling a prickle of vulnerability.

Leo found a bar, The Spittoon, it’s neon sign flickering erratically. The interior was dimply lit, smoke-filled, and smelled of stale beer and desperation. A handful of patrons occupied the booths and bar stools, their faces etched with the weariness of a hard life. He took a seat at the bar, trying to appear nonchalant, acutely aware of his Vault-dweller pallor and neatly-maintained uniform.

“What’ll it be?” the bartender grunted, wiping a glass with a stained rag.

“Something strong,” Leo replied, his voice wavering only slightly.

The bartender nodded, pouring a murky amber liquid into a chipped glass. Leo took a tentative sip, the liquor burning a path down his throat. It was harsh, but surprisingly effective. He took another sip, the tension slowly beginning to ease.

He scanned the room, his gaze lingering on a group of rough-looking men in the corner, their conversation punctuated by coarse laughter and the clinking of glasses. He noticed a woman sitting alone in a booth, her eyes fixed on the bottom of her cup, a melancholic expression on her face. As he nursed his drink, he overheard snippets of conversation. Talk of NCR patrols, raiders, and wasteland beasts. He tried to avoid eye contact, acutely aware of his own vulnerability.

The bartender slammed a glass down in front of another patron, his eyes meeting Leo’s for a fleeting moment. A man had sat beside him. The man was striking, strong, mid-30’s, weathered by years under a relentless sun. His cropped hair, a sun-bleached chestnut color, framed his face, full of life and experience. His eyes, a cool brown, held a depth of knowledge that made Leo feel inadequate. He wore impeccably maintained leather armor, reinforced with steel plates, and a holstered pistol. He carried himself with a quiet confidence and natural authority, a stark contrast to Leo.

“Name’s Kellan,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “And you are…?”

“Leo,” he replied, shaking Kellan's hand. His grip was firm and pleasingly strong.

They sat in silence for a moment, both nursing their drinks. Kellan seemed content to observe Leo, his gaze unwavering. Finally he broke the silence. “You’re a citizen here, aren’t ya?”

Leo hesitated. He wasn’t used to being scrutinized this way. “Yeah… but I’m not sure that will last.”

Kellan raised a skeptical eyebrow. “What do you mean by that? You can lose your citizenship?”

Leo sighed. He was already oversharing, and didn’t want to divulge his mission to a stranger, but Kellan's gaze was relentless. Would oversharing even really matter if he was going to be gone within a week? “It’s not like that,” he started, “I’ve just been reassigned to a new job that will take me out of Vault City. It’s not the best gig.” Leo forced a chuckle.

Kellan's expression didn’t change, but Leo saw a flicker of something in his eyes. “Got a job taking you out of town, huh?” He paused. “Where to?”

“Dog City.” Leo smiled sheepishly. A part of him was waiting for this opportunity.

“Dog City, huh?” That’s… a lively place. Whole town is overrun with wild dogs, I’m sure you know.” He took a swig of his drink, then leaned in closer, whispering, “Have you heard of the Hangdogs?”

This piqued Leo’s curiosity. “No, I… I haven’t. I just thought they city was overrun with regular dogs.” He said.

Kellan chuckled. “The Hangdogs aren’t a kind of dog, they’re a tribe of people that live in Dog City. The Hangdogs control everything out there. They’re savage, cunning, and they don’t take kindly to outsiders in their territory.” He paused, studying Leo’s reaction.

Leo’s smile was gone. He wasn’t sure if Kellan was messing with him, but regardless of the truth, he was worried.

Kellan continued, “The city itself is a maze of scrap, tunnels, and hidden settlements. It’s easy to get lost, easy to get taken advantage of. And that’s if you can avoid being eaten by packs of hungry beasts roaming the streets. You’ll need to keep your wits about you, that’s for sure.” He leaned back, taking another drink

Leo swallowed hard. “You talk like you’ve been there before.” his eyes darted between Kellan and his cup, searching for a place to rest.

“Plenty of times…” Kellan responded. “Dog City is about as far down I-70 anyone cares to go.” He let out a chuckle, “I just so happen to be heading that way myself, Maybe I could show you around.”

Leo’s cheeks flushed. Was Kellan coming on to him? “Really!?” He stammered before clearing his throat. “You know… I’ve never even left Vault City before.” He said without thinking.

Kellan's smile was as wide as ever. “You do have a certain air of refinement about you.”

Leo’s blush deepened. He was starting to enjoy the flirtation.

“Are you scared?” Kellan asked bluntly.

Of course, Leo was scared, it was plainly obvious. But, even so, he hesitated before answering. He was acutely aware of how open he’d been with Kellan, a habit that couldn’t end well if indulged too liberally in the wastes. The liquor spoke before Leo did, “Yeah. To be honest, I am.”

Kellan put his hand on the back of Leo’s chair, brushing against his shoulder. “Well… you showed up here, that’s a start.” His hand drifted onto Leo’s back, the warmth burning against his skin. He continued, “sometimes, all you need is a willingness to learn, try new things.” He leaned in even closer, his voice a husky whisper in Leo’s ear. “And a good teacher…”

Leo felt strangely exposed, physically and emotionally, but it was nice.

“Well,” Kellan said, his voice regaining its casual tone as he withdrew his hand. “It was nice meeting you, Leo.” He straightened his back, his height suddenly imposing, and pushed back from the bar with practiced grace. “I have… matters to attend to.”

He didn’t offer a goodbye, didn’t meet Leo’s eyes. Instead, he simply nodded once, a curt acknowledgment, and turned on his heel, leather boots echoing softly against the worn wooden floor. He disappeared beyond the doorway with a swiftness that left Leo feeling unsettled.

Leo watched him go, his mind reeling. The casualness of Kellan's departure, the lack of any clear invitation, left him adrift, unsure if he’d imagined the subtle tension that had passed between them. He replayed their conversation in his head, searching for clues, but found only veiled suggestions. He took a long swallow of his drink, the lukewarm liquid doing little to quench the sudden dryness in his throat. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Kellan had deliberately left him questioning.

With a sigh, Leo stood up from the bar, leaving a few caps behind. He had enough. He needed to return to the Vault. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by enigmatic wastelanders for too long. He walked out into the darkness of the courtyard, the image of Kellan's dark eyes burning in his mind. The Vault felt miles away, and suddenly, the prospect of returning to his terminal seemed… profoundly uninteresting. His mind was fixated on Dog City and the mysteries it contained.

Reaching his room, he barely registered unlocking the door. He shed his clothes, the fabric feeling constricting, suffocating. He fell onto the narrow cot, his body tense, his mind racing. Sleep came slowly, a restless descent into a world of fragmented images and unconscious sensations. He dreamt of Dog City.

It was different than what he had imagined. It was a vibrant, pulsating landscape, bathed in the crimson glow of a setting sun. Massive, muscular dogs moved through the city, their bodies sleek and powerful, their eyes burning with intelligence and hunger. He saw himself walking among them, naked and vulnerable, his skin tingling with anticipation.

Chapter Text

Three days had passed in the blink of an eye. Leo approached the NCR tent erected just outside the imposing gates of Vault City. A flag flew proudly above the tent, a two headed bear, the insignia of the New California Republic. The expedition to Dog City was about to depart, and the weight of the unknown hung heavy in the air.

He ducked under the door flap of the tent, immediately colliding with a sturdy figure clad in NCR armor. “Whoa there, easy,” a gruff voice rumbled. The figure steadied him with a surprisingly gentle hand. “You must be Leonard, right? I’m Lieutenant Julia Ramirez, expedition senior officer.”

Ramirez was imposing, efficient, radiating an aura of competence. Her face, weathered and lined, was framed by short, practical brown hair. She surveyed him with a critical gaze, as if assessing his suitability for the journey.

“Pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant. You can call me Leo.” He said, forcing a smile and extending his hand.

“Don’t bother with the formalities,” Ramirez said, with a politely dismissive wave. “Bad habit to have on the road.”

Leo shrunk back. Inside the tent, the air smelled of disinfectant, stale coffee, and the metallic tang of freshly oiled gunmetal. He was surrounded by uniformed NCR soldiers. He felt profoundly out of place.

“These are our contractors,” she continued, pointing to a pair of figures leaning against a crate, cleaning their weapons. “Mara and Kellan.”

Leo’s stomach clenched. Kellan was leaning against the crate with an infuriatingly relaxed posture, his dark eyes fixed on him with familiar intensity. He offered a slow, predatory smile. Mara, on the other hand, didn’t even look up. She was petite and wiry, with a shock of bright pink hair and a network of intricate tattoos across her arms.

“Leo’s our vault tech,” Ramirez said, her voice clipped. “He’s our ticket into the facility once we find it.”

Kellan chuckled. “A vault tech you say? That’s interesting.” He pushed himself off the crate, slowly approaching Leo, his eyes fixed on his lips. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Leo.” he said. “Perhaps you can show me some of your expertise.” He stopped inches from Leo’s face, his breath warm against his ear.

The lieutenant interrupted, “until we get to Dog City, Kellan and Mara are, effectively, your second in command. We’re relying on them to guide us through the waste and you do what they say, when they say it. I don’t want to lose anyone on the road.”

Kellan's smile widened, exposing his teeth. Leo swallowed. A part of him was excited to see Kellan again, a part of him was offended that he never mentioned their shared mission. His broad-shouldered, rugged appearance was comforting, given the circumstances. His eyes held a wild intensity that made Leo’s skin prickle. He forced a smile, trying to project confidence he didn’t feel.

Ramirez cleared her throat, breaking the tense silence. “Enough pleasantries. We leave in two-hours time. Make your final checks and lace up, because we have a long journey ahead of us.”

With that Kellan retreated. The thought of spending days alone with Kellan in the desolate wasteland sent a wave of both apprehension and a strange, unsettling excitement through Leo. He simultaneously wanted to be him and be liked by him. Leo turned away, needing to escape the suffocating intensity of Kellan's gaze. He busied himself with a cursory inspection of his pack and pip-boy, pretending to check over settings and menu’s he’d prepared days ago.

He could feel Kellan watching him, a weight on the back of his neck. He risked a glance, catching Kellan's eyes again. A smirk appeared on the mercenary’s lips. Kellan wasn’t looking at his face, though. His gaze was fixed on Leo’s delicate throat. He quickly looked away, his cheeks flushing.

Suddenly Mara spoke, her voice raspy. “Don’t bother trying to make friends, vault boy. Friend’s out here get you killed.” She didn’t look up from cleaning her weapon, but her words hung in the air, a stark warning.

Kellan, leaning against the tent pole, let out a low laugh. “She’s not wrong…” he pushed himself off the pole, “but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves along the way, does it?” He smiled. “Just remember who’s in charge when things get rough. And don’t try to be a hero.”

As the NCR expedition began to move out, Leo found himself walking beside Kellan, the vast, desolate wasteland stretching out before them. The air was dry, carrying the scent of dust and decay. He glanced at Kellan who was walking with a confident stride, his eyes scanning the horizon. Leo knew, with chilling certainty, that this journey would change him forever. And he had a feeling that Kellan would change him the most. The road to Dog City was long, and Leo was about to find out exactly what that meant.

The desert sun beat down on Leo’s exposed skin, turning it a painful shade of red. He hadn’t realized how bright the sun was, how relentlessly it burned. Every breath tasted like grit, coating his tongue with fine dust. He stumbled, nearly falling, and Kellan's hand shot out, gripping his arm with reassuring strength. “Keep moving, Leo. You don’t want to get left behind.” Leo nodded, forcing himself to ignore the burning in his lungs and the ache in his legs. It took days before he was acclimated to the rigor of their march.

The nights were cold and unforgiving. Leo huddled around the meager campfire, shivering despite the vault suit he wore. He watched as NCR troopers took turns standing guard, their faces grim and watchful. Kellan, as always, was distant and aloof. He sat apart from the others, with Mara. Restful sleep was hard to come by. Most people seemed to simply nod off for a few minutes at a time.

Only one week into their journey, the motley collection of NCR troopers and pack brahmin laden with supplies, formed a thin line against the ochre landscape. The rhythmic thud of the brahmin’s hooves was a strangely comforting sound among the unsettling silence.

Then, a sharp crack echoed through the air. Leo looked around. It sounded like a rock falling, maybe a branch snapping. He expected to see something moving. Another crack, closer this time, followed by a high-pitched whirring sound. He squinted, trying to locate the source of the noise.

“Contact! Contact! Return fire!” Lt. Ramirez’s shouted. Before Leo understood the words, another crack rang out, followed by a sickening thud. Leo saw one of the pack brahmin stumble, its legs collapsing beneath it. The animal let out a mournful bray, thrashing wildly as it fell, sending supplies scattering across the sand. Leo froze.

“Get down!” Kellan growled, one hand pushing Leo to the ground as he reached for the rifle on his back. Leo scrambled for cover behind a meager rock formation, the reality of the situation crashing down on him like a wave. The sound of gunfire, now unmistakable, ripped through the air, and he braced himself for the chaos to come.

NCR troopers responded with bursts of automatic fire, their rifles spitting lead into a crumbling gas station maybe 500 yards away. Leo, however, felt utterly useless. He was not a soldier, and he felt uniquely vulnerable with no weapon in his hand. He risked a peek over the rock’s edge, his stomach twisting at the sight. A dozen raiders, clad in scavenged armor and wielding a ramshackle collection of weapons, were pouring fire into the convoy. They moved with a feral grace, taking cover behind debris and outflanking the NCR troopers. He spotted Kellan, a whirlwind of violence, his eyes burning with a cold, ruthless intensity.

A raider charged at Leo from behind with a rusty pipe. Leo’s heart leaped into his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable.

Suddenly, a blur of motion. Kellan, appearing as if from nowhere, slammed into the raider, knocking the pipe from his grip. He followed up with a brutal strike to the head, sending the raider crashing into the ground unconscious before putting a bullet in his skull. Kellan turned to Leo, his eyes locking onto his. “Stay down,” his voice was rough and commanding, turning back to the fray.

Leo, shaking uncontrollably, listened to the frenzied shouting, bullets whizzing overhead, and the blood curdling screams of the wounded. He stared into the face of the dead raider beside him, his eyes lifeless and bloodshot. Leo couldn’t look away from the hole in the raider’s skull. He felt his stomach turning. His eyes watered and his body convulsed. Finally, he threw up, freed from the gory sight.

As the raider attack began to falter, Leo felt a strange, unsettling excitement building within him. He was terrified, yes, but also captivated. Captivated by the bravery and power of Kellan and the soldiers, the intensity of combat and their ability to perform under pressure. They seemed superhuman. He wanted to be strong like them, to be free from fear. The thought was exhilarating and terrifying.

After what felt like hours, the gunfire finally stopped. A heavy silence descended, broken only by the groans of the wounded and the crackling of shells rolling across the pavement. Leo, heart hammering against his ribs, cautiously peered over the rock he hid behind. The raiders were gone, scattered like dust in the wind. The NCR troopers were already tending to their falling comrades, their faces grim and determined.

He looked to Kellan, leaning against a fallen brahmin. Kellan looked up, catching Leo’s eye, and offered a curt nod. There was no triumph in his expression, only a cold acceptance of the situation. “You alright, Leo?” Kellan asked, his voice rough but devoid of any real concern.

Leo swallowed, his throat was dry. “I… I think so.” He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath.

Kellan pushed himself up, walking towards Leo. He stopped a few feet away, his eyes scanning Leo from head to toe. “You froze. That’s… dangerous.” He reached out, his hand gripping Leo’s arm. “But, I suppose you did alright for your first gun fight. You didn’t shit yourself did you?” There was no hint of humor in the question.

“Uh… no.” Leo replied, “I threw up but…”

“Not bad…” Kellan said quietly. “But you need a weapon.” He pulled Leo to his feet. “And, it’s probably time you get your hands dirty. You need to be able to act to survive.” He gestured toward a fallen raider, her hands still gripping a semi-automatic pistol.

Leo’s stomach lurched, a wave of fear and disgust washing over him. But there was more. He wanted to impress Kellan, to prove he wasn’t as useless as he felt, to do something. He looked around, surveying the carnage and destruction. Was this real? Is this what the world was like? Leo had the chilling feeling that he had not only left Vault City, but that he had awoken from a dream into a dark and terrible reality. He would eventually find out exactly how far he was willing to go to survive.

Another three days passed. The convoy had lost two of their four pack animals in the ambush and had to leave a significant portion of their supplies behind. As they passed the skeletal husk of a pre-war town, buildings clawed at the sky like broken teeth. Lt. Ramirez ordered a stop in the town to resupply. Dust devils danced through the deserted streets, swirling around the remnants of lives long gone.

“Alright, scavenge what you can,” Ramirez’s voice cut through the ruckus, her tone practical and sharp. “Focus on food, water, and anything useful for repairs. Be quick, we don’t want to linger here any longer than necessary.”

Leo, feeling a familiar unease, followed Mara into a crumbling grocery store, the shelves long since stripped bare. The gutted remains of the store smelled of rust and dirt. The crunch of shattered glass announced Leo’s entrance. Mara turned around, “Oh! It’s you.” She sounded relieved in a way that made Leo feel small. “What? Your boyfriend not around?”

Leo blushed. “It’s not like that!” he said sharply.

“Easy, vault-boy, I’m just teasing…” Mara casually raised her hands in a disarming gesture. “Besides, I usually like guys who aren’t trying to fuck me.”

Leo’s cheeks became somehow more red. “He’s just the only person who’s bothered to help me.” Leo said. “Everyone else treats me like I’m a burden, and, honestly, I don’t blame them.”

Mara looked close to rolling her eyes. “He’s soft on you,” she said, “but I get it. You’re kinda like a puppy.” The first hint of a smile appeared in the corner of her mouth. “So… did you need some help finding food or…”

“Yes…” He admitted, swallowing what little pride he had left.

Mara chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. “Alright… Well… You’ve seen canned food right? In the Vault? That stuff is all pre-war. We’re looking for that.”

He’d spent all his life in a vault, surrounded by preserved food and what they could grow outside, but he’d never really thought about cans as being pre-war, or something he’d see out in the wasteland.

She continued, pulling a few cans from a locked cabinet she broke open, explaining how to identify edible food. “The key is to check the seal. If it’s still intact, it’s usually safe.” she demonstrated, running a finger along a can’s rim. “See? No rust, no dents, no bulging. Good to go.” She rummaged through another container. “Avoid anything that’s bloated or smells off. And never, ever eat anything that’s been opened by animals.

Leo listened intently, absorbing her instructions. He wasn’t used to having to determine if what he ate was safe.

“Here,” Mara said, handing him a can of beans. “Open this one. We’ll check it.”

Leo carefully pried the can open, the metal groaning in protest. A foul odor immediately filled the air.

“Nope,” Mara said, wrinkling her nose. “Definitely bad. Toss it.” She pointed to a pile of refuse in the corner. “How about this one?” She handed Leo another can.

He opened the second can, this time without an overwhelming stench. Leo put his nose to the rim, sniffing cautiously. “This one also smells bad.” He said.

Mara brought her nose forward. “Hmm… Nah, this one is fine. It’s just regular bad.” She clicked her tongue. “You can definitely tell when they’re bad, bad.”

Leo sighed, feeling a growing sense of inadequacy. He was out of his depth. “I don’t think I’m very good at this.”

Mara’s expression softened slightly. “Just pay attention, and you’ll get the hang of it. It takes practice.” She pointed to a corner, partially shielded by a collapsed wall. “Check over there. I find that the harder somewhere is to access, the more likely it is to have something good.”

He moved to the corner, carefully sifting through the rubble. His fingers brushed against something smooth, metallic. A can of dog food. He grimaced. “Dog food?”

“That’s the good stuff.” Mara said, appearing beside him. “Sealed tight. Good find.”

Hours passed, the initial awkwardness fading with each shared find. Leo found himself anticipating Mara’s instructions, his movements becoming more confident. He even managed to locate a stash of canned fruit, hidden beneath a pile of debris. “Look!” He exclaimed, holding up a can of peaches.

Mara’s lips curved into a genuine smile. “Not bad, vault-boy, not bad at all.”

They prepared to leave. As they sorted their meager bounty, Leo finally worked up the courage to ask. “So… where are you from?”

Mara hesitated. Her eyes betraying a distant sadness. “A long way from here. A place called Twin Mothers.”

“Twin Mothers?” Leo repeated, trying to place the name. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“Not surprising. It’s hidden. Deep in the mountains. Colorado.” She paused, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “It’s… a complicated place. A sanctuary of sorts, built by the moon and the sun – so they say… And Ruled by women if you’d believe it.” She looked to Leo.

“Women?” Leo asked, surprised.

“It’s true.” she replied. “I didn’t even know it wasn’t the norm until I left. There are a lot of things to miss about Twin Mothers, it was a gentle place.” Her wistful recollection faded. “They were always suffering though. Too gentle to defend themselves properly, and too faithful to find a good solution.”

Leo sat for a moment, thinking of what to say next. “Where did you go when you left?”

“I joined up with the Hangdogs for a while, before deciding to work on my own.” Mara said.

Leo blinked, startled by the sudden change in subject. “The Hangdogs?” he perked up. “Are the stories true?” He bluffed, hoping to mine Mara for more information than he already knew.

“You want to know about the Hangdogs?” She said in genuine surprise. “Fair enough. You are going to Dog City after all.” She settled in for a story, “most folks just see them as raiders with attack dogs. I’ve seen more. They figured something out, a way to live with the dogs.”

Mara’s voice lowered, a hint of something unreadable in her tone. “They’ve figured out a way to bind themselves to the dogs. They say by bonding with them, they tap into their power. And it changes them all right, makes them more focused, more predatory. They hunt in packs of man and beast alike.” She exhaled slowly. “They believe the dogs are their spirit animals. They revere them. One time…” She started to trail off, avoiding something. “They say the dogs choose their people. And they take it very seriously.”

“Wow…” Leo didn’t totally understand what she was getting at, but he was surprised by what he heard. “They really worship dogs? Is that how why they’ve stayed in Dog City all this time?”

Mara seemed to be growing uncomfortable. “Look… I know it sounds crazy, but the world is pretty crazy. If you saw what I saw, you might get it.” She smiled. “Come to think of it, I bet you would get it.” Mara chuckled to herself. “But let’s change the subject. You know Kellan is trying to fuck you right?”

Leo’s flush returned. “I mean… I know… I was hoping so…” He whispered.

“Yeah, I know.” She said bluntly. “What I mean to say is, you know that once he fucks you, he’ll move on. If not immediately after, when the contract is done.” She looked Leo in the eyes. “I don’t want to interfere, but I think it’s fair to say that you’re naive, Leo. You’ve spent your life sheltered, I know what that means better than most.”

He bristled, but Mara was sincere. It was hard to deny her. “What do you mean?”

“He’ll use you Leo. And once he’s had his fill, he’ll move on. Men like him don’t do… relationships. Not in the way you might be hoping for.”

A flush crept up Leo’s neck, hot and unwelcome. He hadn’t consciously thought of a relationship, but the idea was implicit in his concept of what happens after sex. Somehow, he had imagined that his desire for connection could be fulfilled in a way that didn’t make sense. “I knew that but… I didn’t really understand it.” The thought sent a tremor through him, a strange cocktail of fear and something else, something he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge until this moment.

He’d spent his life in the sterile, predictable environment of the vault, governed by routine. Human interaction was minimal, meaningful connection virtually nonexistent. He’d never considered the possibility of wanting someone to look at him like that. But now, the idea had taken root. It was not a desire for affection, not in the conventional sense. It was something darker, more primal. A yearning to be taken, to relinquish control. To be a vessel, a tool, used and discarded. The vault had stripped him of agency, of purpose. Perhaps, on some subconscious level, he’d been seeking a replacement for that subjugation.

The thought was horrifying, and yet compelling. To be valued not for his intellect, his knowledge, but for his body, his compliance. To be completely at the mercy of someone stronger, more capable. It wasn’t degradation exactly; it was a release. A surrender. His desire for connection, for something beyond the sterile walls of Vault City, had always been there, simmering beneath the surface. And now, that desire was taking a dangerous, unexpected form. He was a blank slate, and Kellan, with a single, lingering glance, had begun to write on him. And Leo wasn’t sure he wanted it to stop.

On the fourteenth day of their journey, the NCR expedition approached Circle Junction. The name felt ironic. There was no real circle to be seen, just an intersection of rusted metal and haphazardly constructed shelters. It may not have been a pretty sight, but it was better than the emptiness of the wastes Leo had grown accustomed to. The breeze carried a wildness that made the hairs on his neck stand on end. The scent of wood smoke and unwashed bodies assaulted his senses. This was supposed to be their last stop before Dog City.

The settlement was built directly on the bones of a former train yard. The skeletal remains of brick buildings and freight cars formed the foundations of everything. Walls were cobbled together from corrugated metal sheets, patched with scavenged wood and canvas. The sheer number of people was a surprise however. Vault City, for all its technological marvels, held barely over a hundred souls. Here, a couple hundred at least milled about, a chaotic swarm of patched clothing and dirt-covered faces.

Leo reached for the grip of his pistol, feeling a pang of discomfort. He entered a facsimile of civilization, lacking the order, rules, and efficiency he was accustomed to. The contrast between this squalid village and the gleaming perfection of Vault City was almost physically painful. He glanced at Kellan, who seemed utterly unfazed, his gaze sweeping over the settlement with a knowing comfort. The easy confidence made Leo feel even more out of place, though he tried to appear nonchalant.

Kellan had told Leo about the tribe living here, the Iron Rivers. Leo’s eyes darted around, cataloging every detail of the people. They were… odd. Tall and lean, with skin weathered to the color of saddle leather. Most were adorned with tattoos of parallel lines – no doubt mimicking the parallel rail lines of the train yard they called home. Their clothing was a patchwork of scraps woven together, leaving much of their tattooed skin exposed. Lastly, he noticed a distinct lack of weaponry. No rifles, no energy weapons, just crude knives and axes. They seemed to rely on their own strength for defense.

The convoy had only barely entered the settlement when Leo felt eyes on him. He stuck out like a sore thumb. The deep blue of his Vault-Tec jumpsuit and the light of his Pip-Boy, even caked in dust and grime, made him stand out from the NCR.

Just beyond the threshold of town, a man appeared. Kellan leaned over to say something to Lt. Ramirez. The man was tall with a gaunt face. He was old, older than just about anyone else Leo had seen in the wasteland. He wore a headdress featuring a large gear and braided copper wire. His fingers were swollen, clearly arthritic, and covered in mechanical parts repurposed into jewelry. Clearly a tribal headman.

Kellan approached the old man with Ramirez. He seemed to be explaining their journey, gesturing towards the west and pointing in the direction of Denver. The old man spoke in a low, gravelly voice, his pidgin lost to Leo. After a few more exchanges, Kellan and Ramirez returned to the group.

“They’re curious about your Pip-Boy” Kellan said, his voice low and reassuring. “Understandable. They don’t see much tech like that out here. They want to make sure it’s not a threat.” He offered Leo a wry smile. “And they want to get to know us. Old gear-head here believes in hospitality.”

Leo frowned. “What does that involve?”

Kellan shrugged, his eyes glinting with amusement. “We talk, mostly. Sharing our histories. And… a cleansing ritual. They believe in purifying the body and spirit before allowing outsiders in.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over Leo’s face. “It’s a bit… communal. A shared bathhouse.”

Leo’s jaw tightened. “Communal?”

“Think of it as a gesture of trust,” Kellan said smoothly. “They want to see we have nothing to hide. It’s also… a way of bonding.” He reached out, gently lifting Leo’s chin with his fingertip. “Don’t worry. It’s not as bad as you think.”

Leo wasn’t sure what he thought, but he knew it involved a level of vulnerability he wasn’t prepared for. He glanced around, noticing the tribe members watching them with unnerving curiosity. Their eyes lingered on him, assessing his reaction. “Lead the way then…” he said.

The bathing area was located in the heart of the settlement, a large, open-air courtyard surrounded by makeshift walls. A large pool of steaming water occupied the center, fed by a repurposed steam engine. Several tribe members were already bathing in the pool, their bodies glistening in the sunlight. Both men and women were present, their faces impassive, their eyes fixed on Leo. They didn’t acknowledge their arrival, but their presence was unnerving.

“They’ll be expecting us to disrobe.” Kellan said casually. He began to unbutton his own shirt.

Leo’s heart pounded in his chest. He felt exposed, vulnerable, his gaze darting around, avoiding the eyes of the tribesmen. He glanced at Kellan, noticing the muscles of his back flexing as he removed his shirt. He was lean and powerful, his body sculpted by the wasteland.

Kellan met his gaze, his eyes filled with amusement. “Relax,” he said softly. “Embrace the experience.” He began to remove Leo’s jumpsuit, his touch surprisingly gentle.

Leo’s hand tightened around his Pip-Boy. It was more than just a piece of tech, it was his lifeline, and a connection to the world he knew. Relinquishing it felt… wrong.

“It’s customary,” Kellan said, his voice low and reassuring, placing a hand on Leo’s lower back. “They need to make sure it doesn’t have any bad spirits in it.” He winked.

A tribesman approached, holding out a calloused hand. Leo unbuckled the straps of his Pip-Boy. With a visible gulp, he surrendered the device. The tribesman examined it with a critical gaze, chanting in a blend of English and something Leo didn’t understand. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

“It is… clean,” the tribesman finally declared, his voice raspy. He handed the Pip-Boy to a younger man, who placed it on a stone table beside the pool.

With the Pip-Boy gone, Leo felt adrift. He glanced at Kellan seeking reassurance. Kellan’s gaze met his, a warm smile on his face.

“Relax,” Kellan murmured, leading him toward the water’s edge. “Just enjoy yourself. These people are welcoming.”

The water was surprisingly warm, soothing his aching muscles. As they immersed themselves, the initial tension began to dissipate. The NCR soldiers, initially wary, started to loosen up, exchanging jokes with each other and the tribesmen. Mara, surprisingly, seemed to be enjoying herself, laughing with a group of tribal women who surrounded her.

Kellan settled beside Leo, his thigh brushing against his. The casual contact sent a jolt of electricity through Leo’s body. He leaned into Kellan, allowing himself to relax, to succumb to the warmth and the easy camaraderie.

“They say this water has healing properties,” Kellan said, his voice a whisper in Leo’s ear. He began to massage Leo’s shoulders, his strong hands kneading away knots of tension.

“It feels… good,” Leo admitted, closing his eyes, trying to forget his exposure.

Kellan’s touch was intoxicating, skillful. He moved lower, his fingers lingering on sensitive spots. Leo’s body responded with an eagerness he couldn’t suppress.

“You deserve this,” Kellan murmured, his lips brushing against Leo’s neck. He began to kiss him softly, his tongue rolling up his neck.

The NCR soldiers and the tribal men continued to mingle, oblivious to the growing intimacy between Leo and Kellan. Kellan’s hands slipped between Leo’s legs, his fingers exploring with a knowing touch. Leo held his breath, trembling with anticipation. The laughter and chatter filled the room, masking a soft moan from Leo.

“What do you say we find somewhere more private like?” Kellan whispered. “I know a place.”

Leo’s heart jumped up. He’d been waiting for this moment. “I’d like that…” He moaned.

Both men slipped out a back door, naked. The steam from the bathhouse clung to Leo’s skin as Kellan led him outside, the noise from within fading with each step. There was an alley, a narrow chasm between corrugated metal walls, the air thick with the smell of oil and soot. The massive steam engine throbbed beside them, a mechanical heartbeat that seemed to sync with Leo’s own rising pulse.

Without a word, Kellan braced a hand against the wall, pinning Leo against the cold scrap-metal, his body pressing close. The brush of metal against Leo’s back was a harsh, grounding sensation. Kellan’s grip was firm and possessive. He leaned in, his breath hot against Leo’s ear. “You want this don’t you?”

Leo swallowed, his voice caught in his throat. A nod was all he could manage.

Kellan spun Leo around, cupping the back of his head and pressing his face into the wall, the exposure was jarring, but the heat radiating from Kellan’s body eclipsed any discomfort. His cock rubbed against Leo’s ass, grinding against him. Leo’s hips instinctively responded, the friction building. The engine’s throb seemed to drive them both forward. He felt a tremor run through him as Kellan spit, wet fingers spread him slightly, testing his elasticity.

“Relax,” Kellan rumbled, issuing an order.

Leo tried, but anticipation coiled tight within him, making his muscles tense, resisting. He exhaled slowly, holding back a whimper.

Kellan slipped in. A stretching heat flared deep in Leo’s core. A sharp pain quickly overtaken by a wave of pure, raw sensation. He gasped, arching his back, his fingers scraping against the corrugated metal. Kellan moved slowly, claiming Leo inch-by-inch. The heat intensified, building with every thrust, stretching him further, opening him wider. Leo moaned, a ragged sound drowned out by the beating engine, his body instinctively seeking to match Kellan’s rhythm.

Kellan’s hips pounded into him with a force that stole his breath. Each thrust was a wave of pure sensation, building with relentless intensity. The scent of him filled Leo’s senses – leather, mesquite, and something wild. He felt the strength of Kellan’s body pressing into him, the weight anchoring him to the earth. Leo was lost in the sensation, drowning in the heat, his control slipping away with each powerful stroke.

Sparks flew behind his eyes, white-hot and blinding. He felt a strange detachment, as if he were watching himself from afar, witnessing his own surrender. He was utterly, completely at Kellan’s mercy, and he wanted nothing more than to succumb. His hips moved with fervor, instinctively seeking to deepen Kellan’s penetration, a desperate plea for more. He focused on the feeling of being stretched, filled, fucked.

“Yes,” he gasped, his voice ragged. “Please… harder.”

Kellan obliged with a chuckle, his movements becoming more forceful, more demanding. Leo’s body trembled with each thrust, his muscles burning with exertion. He felt his own inhibitions melting away, replaced by a primal urge to please Kellan, to submit to his every whim. He wasn’t just a body; he was a vessel, a tool for Kellan’s pleasure. And he wanted to be used.

Kellan’s hand found its way to Leo’s throat, his fingers tightening around his pulse point. Leo gasped, his breath catching. It wasn’t painful, not yet. It was a reminder of Kellan’s power, his control. He leaned into the pressure, inviting the dominance.

“Good boy,” Kellan murmured, his voice rough with exertion. “That’s right… Take it!”

And Leo did. He abandoned himself to the sensation, surrendering to the heat, the pressure, the raw, power of Kellan. Their moans grew louder, more desperate, a ragged symphony of pleasure. He felt his body clench, tightening around Kellan’s length, a desperate attempt to hold onto the sensation, to prolong the inevitable release.

The pressure built within Leo, a relentless tightening that stole his breath. Kellan’s rhythmic thrusts had become deeper, more insistent, each stroke stripping away another layer of control. He hadn’t realized how limp he’d become until the first spasm ripped through him, a white-hot surge that exploded in his core. His hands, slick with sweat, clawed at the rough wall he was pinned to. He bucked, a helpless, involuntary motion, as a torrent of seed erupted inside him, flooding Leo’s interior. A moan tore from his throat, a sound devoid of any pretense, pure animalistic release.

Then, it hit him. A blinding rush of sensation, a violent surge of pleasure that ripped through his body. He cried out, his body trembling uncontrollably. Leo unloaded himself completely, a hot, shuddering spasm that left him gasping for breath. His cum splat against the scrap metal. Kellan laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that echoed in the alley. Cum dripped from Leo’s ass, tracing warm paths down his skin.

Kellan collapsed against Leo, his breath ragged and uneven. He didn’t pull out, instead, deepening their embrace, his weight pressing down on Leo’s back. His face was buried in Leo’s neck, his hands gripping Leo’s waist so tightly that his knuckles were white. He shuddered, a deep, convulsive tremor that shook them both.

Kellan began to pull out slowly, the heat of their bodies still clinging to each other. His breathing gradually returned to normal, though a faint tremor still ran through him. “Whew!” he laughed, his voice dripping with satisfaction. He stepped back, offering Leo a hand. “should we rejoin the others?”

Leo, still reeling from the intensity of their encounter, felt a strange disconnect. The aftermath felt… somehow empty. The sense of intimacy vanished. He hadn’t expected a declaration of love or anything, but he sensed an asymmetry. He forced a casual tone, attempting to mask his confusion. “Right. Wouldn’t want Ramirez thinking we’ve been slacking.”

Their hasty exit from the bathhouse had left them unprepared for re-entry. Both were completely naked, and Leo was dripping, a fact that hadn’t registered fully but was now becoming painfully obvious. Fortunately, The back door was still unlocked. Kellan pushed it open with a confident swagger, and they stepped inside… directly into Lieutenant Ramirez.

Ramirez had clearly been enjoying her soak, a stained towel loosely draped around her neck. Her expression was a blend of shock and carefully controlled amusement. Her eyes flickered between Leo and Kellan, taking in the scene with glacial slowness. A single drop of water rolled down her sculpted cheek.

The silence stretched out, thick and heavy, the only sound the faint dripping of water.

“Well…” Ramirez finally said, her voice dangerously calm. “This was bound to happen eventually.” She didn’t bother to hide the smirk on her face. “You know, if you two were enlisted, I could have you court-martialed for this.”

Kellan, to Leo’s astonishment, didn’t even flinch. He simply offered Ramirez a charming, painfully ill-thought out excuse, with a disarming grin. “Lieutenant. Just returning from a reconnaissance mission. A very… thorough one… just outside.” He gestured vaguely with his hand.

Leo wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

Ramirez raised her eyebrow. “Uh, huh…” her gaze narrowed. “Right…” She paused, smiling. “Carry on then.” She turned on her heel, disappearing into the steam.

As Ramirez left, Kellan turned to Leo, his eyes twinkling in amusement. “That was close, huh?”

Leo, still reeling from embarrassment, could only stare. Close? This fucking guy. He couldn’t hide himself in the water fast enough.

Both men hurried from the door to the main bath. Slipping into the warm embrace of the water was relieving, both for its heat and concealment. Leo felt the warm water lapping against his stretched hole as he sank in. Kellan laid his arm over Leo’s shoulder. The bath felt different now. The balmy water was the same, but it was overlaid with a prickling sense of incompleteness. He should feel sated, relaxed, but a low thrum of anxiety vibrated beneath his skin.

Leo peered through the steam, searching for his pip boy, it was still there on a table beside the pool. He turned to face Kellan, who’s eyes were wondering over the naked bodies in the bathhouse. For a moment, Leo considered asking him if this was a one time thing. Just then, a uniformed NCR soldier came rushing up to them.

“Kellan, your presence is requested at the camp gate.”

Kellan’s hand slid from Leo’s shoulder. “Can it wait? I’m enjoying my bath.”

“My orders are to escort you to the gate promptly.” The soldier replied.

“I see…” Kellan said, rising from the pool. “Some translation issue, no doubt.” He stretched languidly, testing his escort’s patience. Leo didn’t mind the view, but Kellan’s antics were beginning to wear on him.

“Let’s go.” The soldier beckoned.

Kellan turned to Leo, “I’ll see you later then.” He said, following the NCR soldier toward the exit.

“See ya.” Leo replied, lifting his hand out of the water.

As Kellan left Leo felt the weight of observation lift from his shoulders. He sank into the water, submerged to his chin. He closed his eyes. Thinking. What was missing? Did he make a mistake? He felt as though his encounter with Kellan was everything he imagined it would be, yet he was unfulfilled. Mara was right to point out the fickle nature of Kellan’s interest, but he was prepared for that. He craved something deeper, more primal. He craved the raw feeling of being fucked, of being claimed, he wanted to be consumed by it. He wanted more, somehow, someway. He found himself strangely compelled, drawn to the mystery of Kellan himself. What drove a man who so casually dismissed authority, who seemed to exist outside the boundaries of consequence?

Leo opened his eyes. He stared at his Pip-Boy by the poolside. He stood, water streaming down his pale skin, walking toward the edge of the bath. He climbed up and grabbed his Pip-Boy, heading for the exit. Leo retrieved his vault suit, the familiar sterile fabric a jarring contrast to the warmth of the bathhouse. Donning his suit, he left the building. He paused, watching Kellan disappear into the distance. A restlessness settled within him, a quiet insistence. He knew, with a sudden certainty, that he couldn’t simply let Kellan go. He started after him, a silent shadow following a darker one.

Chapter Text

Stepping into the afternoon bustle of the tribal camp was disorienting. The shift from the humid, echoing bathhouse to the open air was a shock. The scent of dust, sweat, and smoke was carried on the crisp mountain breeze. Leo’s perception of the camp was different from before. What was squalor had become stimulating to the senses. He inhaled deeply, dissecting the complex aroma. Food, fuel, as well as human and animal scents all blended together. Leo saw busy villagers going about their day. The dirt that obscured their skin before seemed transparent, and he saw intricate patterns of tribal markings on their bodies; guessing at their meaning. The sounds of drumming, shouting, and bleating, previously a source of anxiety, resonated with the burgeoning desire within him. Circle Junction felt real, a place where life happened, in contrast to the stultifying artifice of Vault City, for all its splendor.

Leo started off toward the camp gate, following after Kellan, drawn by a gnawing desire. He had been under Kellan’s watchful eye for weeks now, absorbing the man’s easy confidence and self-reliance like a thirsty plant. The independence, the freedom of Kellan’s existence – it was everything Leo wasn’t, and everything he desperately craved. The bathhouse encounter had only amplified that yearning, highlighting the vast chasm between his controlled, submissive disposition and Kellan’s raw, untamed existence.

But for as intimate as they had been, Kellan was also distant, his practiced indifference masked something that Leo couldn’t quite decipher. Their encounter had been pleasurable, but it hadn’t filled the hollow ache that had begun to gnaw at him. It was a primal hunger, a longing for a connection to something larger, both within and without himself, something once represented by the sterile paternalism of the Vault. A yearning mirrored by his own dependence on Kellan, a need to be guided, protected, taken. He sought to indulge in the bliss of letting go of responsibility for himself. He craved submission to power.

Leo was lost in his own head walking through the foreign camp. The sights and sounds passing him by in a haze. His gaze drifted over a group of young men wrestling playfully in the dust, their bodies slick with sweat, muscles straining and flexing. A flush crept up Leo’s neck. His attention was captured by the energy radiating from them, a pure, animalistic vitality that resonated with his internal state. He felt a gentle ache between his legs, mirroring the tension in the wrestler’s limbs.

He’d always identified with his mental life, compartmentalizing his body as a tool. The Vault emphasized mental discipline, specialized function, the suppression of base instincts. Pleasure was permissible, but clinical, transactional, a release valve for an uncontrollable energy. His encounter in the bathhouse had been libidinal and raw, but even there a part of him remained aloof, observing rather than experiencing.

Now, fixated on the wrestler’s uninhibited display of physicality, something shifted within him. He noticed the way the sunlight caught the sheen of their skin, the subtle flex of tendons, and the rhythm of their effortful breathing. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing to him sensations that he hadn’t known existed. He felt a primal urge to feel, to be consumed by the sheer physicality of another. Leo breathed deeply, the scent of the men filling his lungs. His heart quickened. He imagined the rough texture of their skin against his own, the weight of their bodies, the intoxicating friction of movement.

Suddenly he understood what drew him to Kellan, he was more than just a surrogate for the psychological domination of the Vault. He represented access to this world of sensation, to Leo’s own body. Kellan’s pull was the promise of a deeper, more visceral connection to the world. But why Kellan? The question echoed in his mind.

Leo was already halfway to the gate. For a moment, he considered turning back. Could he really allow Kellan to have so much power over him? It was only then that his anxiety caught up with him. Where would he go if not to Kellan’s side? His mind raced, seeking some way to escape his spiraling desires, some way to assert himself. Leo stopped. He couldn’t shake his desires, but he could redirect them. He thought of the wrestlers only a few minutes behind him, a rogue idea entering his mind. He didn’t know where to go, but he did know what he wanted. He craved the exquisite release of control, the oblivion of pure physicality, it didn’t have to be with Kellan. He wanted to experience the world not as an observer, but as a participant, a fully embodied creature.

He turned on his heels, starting back towards the group of young men locked in contest with one another. His heart raced as he imagined what he would do. Would he ask to join? Would he really fight? Certainly he would lose… the thought sent a tremor through him, his vault suit growing uncomfortably tight.

Before long he came upon them. The small group of young men were still cheering as two of their number vied for dominance. Leo felt himself drawing closer as if his feet moved on their own. He became immediately aware of his conspicuous appearance, the stark blue and yellow of his vault suit drawing the attention of the men. Even the two actively wrestling stopped to look.

Leo forced a smile. The stares felt like a physical weight, each glance dissecting his alien attire, his pale skin, his carefully controlled composure. He cleared his throat.

“Excuse me,” he began, his voice shaky. “I… I was wondering if I could join you?”

A ripple of amusement ran through the group. One of the wrestlers, a broad shouldered young man with a playful grin, stepped forward, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. The man caught his eye, a slow grin spreading across his face. He gestured toward Leo with a calloused hand, speaking in a rough dialect that Leo barely understood

“You… strong?” The man’s English was fractured. He flexed his arm, the muscle bulging beneath his sun-kissed skin.

Leo swallowed, feeling self-conscious of his pale complexion and small frame. Compared to this man, he looked fragile. “I’m… not much of a fighter.” He said, his voice quiet.

The tribal chuckled, a lighthearted and sincere laugh. He stepped closer, the scent of sweat and earth filling Leo’s nostrils. He reached out, his hand exceedingly warm, and lightly touched Leo’s arm, the pressure sending a jolt through his veins.

“No fight. Play… with us?” The man’s dark eyes held a challenging glint.

Leo’s heart hammered against his ribs. He felt a strange mix of fear and anticipation, a desperate yearning to surrender to the raw physicality of this man, to lose himself to the intoxicating chaos of sensation. He could feel the man’s gaze tracing the lines of his body, assessing his weakness, his vulnerability. A flush crept up his neck and he found himself unable to meet the man’s eyes. He was insufficient, a creature of thought, a prisoner of his own mind.

“We go easy.” The tribal man said, gripping Leo’s arm, hauling him forward before he could protest. He stumbled as he was thrust into the center of the dusty wrestling ring, facing another young man around his age. Lean muscle shown beneath his tan skin. The tribal’s eyes, dark and assessing, raked over him with a frank curiosity that sent a shiver down Leo’s spine. He hadn’t even had time to formulate a coherent thought before the other man lunged, hands reaching for his waist.

The initial contact was jarring, a shock of heat and energy. Strong fingers dug into his hips, anchoring him as the tribal attempted a swift take down. Leo, caught off guard, stumbled backwards, taking the tribal with him. There was a thrilling, unfamiliar electricity in the air.

The tribal’s weight pressed against him, the friction of his skin sending a wave of heat through his core. He instinctively tried to create some distance, but the other man was relentless, his grip tightening with each attempt. Leo found himself pressed back, his spine arching as the tribal maneuvered for a better hold. He gasped, a breathless sound that was lost in the rising din of the crowd.

Leo twisted, leveraging his body weight, a grunt escaping his lips in exertion. He managed to briefly wrench free, scrambling to his feet, the observers cheering. Then, with a clumsy, panicked energy, Leo launched himself forward, attempting to mount the tribal. As soon as Leo made contact, in a single, practiced movement, the tribal flipped Leo onto his back once more. The impact knocked the air from Leo’s lungs, and he lay gasping, staring up at the cloudless sky. He felt alive.

But it wasn’t pain that held his attention. It was the weight pressing down on him, the solid warmth of the tribal’s body, the scent of him. Leo was hard. The struggle had taken a turn away from dominance toward intimate exploration. Each touch, each press of muscle against muscle, was deliberate. The tribal’s hands slid across his chest, the warmth of his palm igniting a fire beneath Leo’s skin. The other man’s breath warmed his ear as he whispered something in a language Leo didn’t understand, the sound sending a shiver down his spine.

A flush burned across Leo’s skin, hotter than before. He could feel the hard ridge of the tribal’s groin pressing against his inner thigh, a subtle, insistent pressure that sent a tremor through his core. Leo instinctively arched his back, pressing closer to the man. It was a less than conscious action, a desperate plea for connection, for permission to submit. The crowd’s cheers had warped into enthusiastic whooping and cooing. He looked deep into the eyes of his opponent, sensing a familiar hunger.

“What’s your name?” Leo asked breathlessly.

The man’s face twisted into a knowing smile. “Riel” He said, rolling his R, his voice smooth like honey.

“Leo.” Leonard replied.

“You want sex, yes?” Riel cut to the chase, Leo’s body language required no translation.

“Uhh…” Leo’s flush deepened from embarrassment. “Yes?”

Riel unmounted Leo, extending a hand, his smile widening as Leo rose to his feet. “My friends, yes?” he motioned toward the five others watching, including the broad shouldered wrestler from before. “We share? We take turns, yes?” Leo hardly believed he could turn any redder, but he certainly did.

“Ye… yes.” Leo stammered in disbelief. Was this real? Did he misunderstand?

“You come.” Riel beckoned, his hand resting casually on Leo’s lower back, guiding him forward. He said something in the tribal dialect, Leo only understood vaguely that he was the subject, much to the others’ surprise.

Leo’s eyes darted between the faces of the young men looking him over with renewed interest. Riel was the leanest among them, his eyes held a predatory glint that both frightened and fascinated Leo. The broad shouldered wrestler, who introduced himself as Bor, was a mountain of muscle. He stood at least 6-inches taller than the others, his skin an impeccable bronze. Leo could see the fine sheen of sweat on his powerful frame, and smell the raw masculinity radiating from him.

The other three were less imposing, and less confident. One, with close-cropped hair and a narrow face, had small, precise tattoos around his eyes, giving him a perpetually intense expression. Another, younger and slighter in build, nervously ran a hand through his sandy hair, his gaze flitting between Leo and Riel with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. The last man, had a quiet, watchful demeanor. He seemed to be observing Leo with a careful, assessing gaze, a hint of embarrassment on his face.

What struck Leo most was their raw physicality, the untamed energy that seemed to vibrate from their bodies. They were so different from the people back home. These men were real, their desires unobscured, their intentions blatant. Leo found himself drawn to their sincerity, a shameful curiosity blossoming within him. The scent of them, musky and virile, filled his nostrils, enticing him to follow.

An undeniable thrill took hold of Leo as he followed Riel and his friends. Each step felt surreal, his legs moving on autopilot as he was led deeper into the village. The curious gazes of the villagers intensified, some clicking their tongues, others openly leering. Leo was embarrassed, becoming aroused by the attention. Bor fell into step beside Riel, running his hand up Leo’s back as he passed. The other three men trailed behind, their eyes fixed on Leo with undisguised interest.

As they crossed into the abandoned parts of the train yard, the curious boys in the back became more bold. All three of them matched Leo’s pace, pressing against both his flanks. They ran their fingers through his blonde hair, smelled his neck, and joked to one another, laughing. Leo could only imagine what they were saying, but he enjoyed in the groping, the power dynamic, the raw, animalistic energy. He reveled in being their prize.

The playful jostling continued as they navigated the crumbling remnants of the train yard, the air thick with the scent of rust and decay. Riel guided them toward a skeletal structure of what was once a maintenance building, its walls riddled with gaping holes, the roof long collapsed. It offered a semblance of privacy, secluded from the village proper.

“This is it!” Riel announced, as if quoting something, turning to look at Leo. “You are blushing…” he said with a grin on his face.

Leo was indeed blushing. The heat of the wrestling match was still in his veins, and the constant touch, the leering gazes, were intoxicating. He couldn’t believe his luck. Could it be that it was always this easy to get laid?

“He is red!” Bor teased, pointing at Leo’s flushed cheeks. his fingers dug into Leo’s waist with possessive vigor. “Are you scared?” his affect softened.

Leo hadn’t even considered the danger he’d put himself in, it was the furthest thing from his mind.

“Oh, he likes it.” Riel said teasingly, “He is just… modest, yes?” He leaned in, “Aren’t you, Leo?” Leo’s name sounded so sweet in his voice.

Leo, surprisingly, responded with a smile of his own, nodding in affirmation. “After you…” He squeaked out.

The moment they stepped inside the skeletal building, the atmosphere shifted, becoming charged with a palpable energy. The boys, no longer restrained by decency, encircled him like wolves closing in on prey. Riel, his eyes burning with desire, reached out and cupped Leo’s face.

“Relax,” Riel murmured, his voice husky with anticipation. “You are safe… ours.” His lips brushed against Leo’s ear, sending a jolt of electricity through his body. “Get on your knees.”

Leo’s knees dug into the sand packed floor, his body trembling with escalating arousal. Riel, stood before him with a smug expression, unfastening his pants. His erect cock sprung out inches from Leo’s face. Riel cupped the back of his head, pulling him in. Leo’s lips parted, the taste of Riel was intoxicating, his scent invading his sinuses, musky and full of life. Leo lost himself in the sensation, his tongue working with eager precision.

Riel groaned, “Good, good…” he chuckled, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Not the first time, yes?”

Around him, the other men were a chorus of encouragement, their voices rough and teasing. “Weak arms, strong mouth.” Bor boomed, his laughter echoing through the building.

“Faster! Faster!” a third man urged, his voice laced with amusement. He said something Leo couldn’t understand, but it caused the whole room to erupt in laughter.

Leo’s cheeks burned with shame and a thrilling, forbidden excitement. He pushed himself harder, taking Riel deeper, swallowing him entirely. Leo felt him pulse in his throat.

Then, another man approached, one of the friend’s Leo didn’t catch the name of. His cock was out, prodding against Leo’s cheek. Riel withdrew, his length sliding out, coating Leo’s mouth with his pre-cum.

In an instant, the other man was in his mouth, a whole new bouquet of taste and scent. He was cleaner than Riel, his body subtle and fragrant. Leo felt the differences in the curvature and flexing of his manhood compared to Reil’s. He was more sensitive around the head, rewarding Leo with endless pre for orbiting it with his tongue. The tribal moaned, muttering something unintelligible, running his fingers through Leo’s hair and grabbing hold. He pulled Leo down his length, burying himself as deep as he could. Leo’s eyes watered, trying not to gag. Leo reflexively swallowed, the man’s cock hardened in his throat. He was forced up and down a few times before the tribal held Leo’s head firmly against his stomach. His cock pulsed, Leo felt him cumming down his throat. He held him there for what felt like minutes, before letting Leo breathe. His cock left Leo’s mouth, twitching and squirting.

Leo gasped, his partner glazing his face with the last of his orgasm. The tribals watching in the wings let out a hearty laugh, their teasing evidently turning toward the man who finished so quickly. Leo turned to look at them, their postures relaxed, some of them stroking themselves. Bor caught his eye. The mountainous tribal approached, his hand grazing over the slick cock of the man who just came in Leo’s mouth, gathering a slippery emulsion of cum and saliva in his hand. Bor made a move for Leo’s belt with his free hand, the sound of the buckle snapping open echoed in the dilapidated building. Leo was shaking, but he assisted, unfastening the zipper of his vault suit, and unlatching his Pip-Boy. Leo watched as the surrounding men drew closer, their smiles widening as his pale skin was revealed.

Bor didn’t hesitate, as soon as Leo’s clothes were loose enough, he pulled the vault dweller’s suit to his ankles. Leo felt the cool fluid on Bor’s slick hand lubricating him, his back arching in response. He moaned softly, a sound that seemed to ignite the others.

“Bor is no good for starting,” Riel teased, “He stretches you out, yes?” The other boys chuckled, seemingly understanding his quip.

“He is already stretched.” Bor said, slipping three fingers into Leo, the chorus of laughter continued.

Leo wanted to turn around and see what Bor had in store for him, but a new weight pressed against his cheek, warm and insistent. He glanced up, the younger, lean man whose name he hadn’t caught, stood before him, his long cock prodding against his lips.

“Share?” The man said with a shy smile. “My turn.”

Leo’s head reeled, his body trembling violently as Bor massaged his hole. He was a plaything, a shared pleasure, and the realization pleased him to no end. He wanted to be broken, molded, taken by the raw power circulating around him. Leo’s dick twitched and pulsed, finally free from the restrictive confines of his clothing, leaking onto the ground. He eagerly took the young man into his mouth.

As he began to suck his new partner, the other men closed in. Leo felt Bor’s cock rubbing against his hole, thicker and longer than he’d imagined. His trembling deepened, his soft moans turning into pleading whimpers. As Bor entered him, Leo’s mind broke, warped by the massive cock invading his ass. Bor was bigger than Kellan, his rhythm more feral, unrestrained. Within seconds Leo was being pounded, the substantial weight of the huge tribal reverberating through his body. The sensation, paired with the cock in his mouth, brought Leo close to the edge, close to his desires for somatic oblivion.

“Like girl…” Bor moaned,

Finally, the world dissolved into a kaleidoscope of sensation. Bor’s relentless thrusts eroded his resistance, building a feverish heat within him. He arched his back, welcoming the intrusion, the stretching, the sheer force of the tribals’ bodies. It was a delicious ache, a testament to his own vulnerability, his complete surrender.

He focused on the feeling of Bor’s cock filling him, stretching him wider with each pulse. The man in his mouth twitched and spasmed. Leo felt himself dripping, precum being fucked out of him.

“Good boy…” Riel murmured, his voice husky with satisfaction. He ran a hand through Leo’s hair, demanding attention away from the younger man. Leo did his best to please both of the men in front of him, their cocks passing in and out of his mouth with frantic desire. The duality was exquisite, a perfect balance of brutality and tenderness.

Leo closed his eyes, surrendering to the wave of sensation. He focused on his breath, an intermittent pleasure fueling his awareness He’d spent his life confined by Vault City’s sterile perfection, his body a carefully curated shell. Now he was being broken open, reshaped, and it was the most exhilarating thing he’d ever experienced.

Leo rode his partners with as much enthusiasm as they rode him. He drank deeply of the friction, the masculine energy filling his body. He felt himself sinking into the rhythm of his partners. Suddenly, Bor’s rhythm broke. His pounding became stochastic, his legs shaking. Bor groaned, his cry of pleasure reverberating on the twisted metal overhead. Finally, he buried himself to the hilt, cumming inside Leo with tremendous force. Leo’s body responded, his own orgasm kick started by Bor’s impressive size twitching within him. He came in sync with the tribal brute, glazing the floor as Bor filled him.

Bor pulled out, shooting arcing strands of cum onto Leo’s back, his ass gaping. Leo whimpered again, a sound that was purely instinctual, a plea for more.

Riel withdrew from Leo’s mouth, rock hard and dripping. He walked to Leo’s rear, tagging out with Bor who’s shuddering orgasm paralyzed him. In the brief moment of rest, Leo saw the tribals stroking each other, looming over him in a possessive encirclement. They crowded his face, their cocks dripping with need, prodding at his lips. Riel entered Leo’s ass, his thick cock a welcome change from Bor’s weapon’s grade girth.

The procession continued. Each of the tribal men brought something unique, a different texture, a different rhythm, a different scent, a different taste. They came again and again, Leo could hardly tell the difference between his own orgasms and those of his partners. It was overwhelming, intoxicating; the symphony of sensation that Leo craved. They each took turns with his mouth and ass, taking their fill. Leo perceived only abstract, erotic mirrors of the sensations driving his body. Five virile young bucks, filling him, controlling him. He was a conduit for their pleasure, dedicated to their ecstasy. He didn’t want it to stop.

The collective rhythm intensified, a frantic, desperate energy consuming the building. Leo’s muscles burned, stretched to their limit, but he welcomed the pain. Riel’s powerful thrusts were matched by the frantic strokes of the others, each man vying for his attention, their hands kneading, teasing, driving him closer to the edge.

Riel, sensing his peak, leaned in close, his voice a low growl, “Almost… there…” He thrust deeper, his hips grinding against Leo’s, and a primal scream ripped from Leo’s throat. A hot shuddering wave of cum exploded from him, his body convulsing uncontrollably. Riel followed suit, spurred on by Leo’s contractions, his own orgasm a violent release that filled Leo’s ass past capacity.

The man in Leo’s mouth came, his tongue covered in the bitter reward. Another wave of pleasure crashed over him, sharing in his partners’ orgasms. The others didn’t relent. The boys surrounding Leo stroked themselves faster, and soon, they came, hot ropes of cum landing on Leo’s face. His hair was covered in a thick layer of semen, matted to his forehead. He was utterly spent, every muscle aching, his body trembling uncontrollably.

Leo let out a weak groan, a sound of pure bliss, collapsing to the ground. A puddle of fluid, semen, saliva, and pre-cum greeting him on the floor, but he had never felt so alive. He looked up at the faces surrounding him, their eyes filled with satisfaction, and a weak smile touched his lips.

He was used, broken, and utterly satisfied. He closed his eyes, reveling in the warmth of their bodies, the scent of their seed, and the knowledge that he had finally found himself in the wastes. He was nothing more than a plaything, a vessel for the pleasure of stronger men. The tribals collapsed with him, into a heap, a pile of satisfied bodies, lost in a sea of primal bliss.

Leo’s eyes fluttered open, met by the fading light of the setting sun. A dull ache throbbed through every muscle, a lingering reminder of his dreamlike encounter. He lay sprawled on the earthen floor, surrounded by the scent of smoke, sweat, and… himself. He tried to stand up, but a his legs were jelly, forcing him back down.

He glanced down at himself, grimacing at the sticky residue coating his skin and hair. He was a mess, and just after his first bath in weeks. But a strange sense of contentment settled over him, a warmth that radiated from the core of his being.

“Easy, Leo,” Riel said, kneeling beside him, offering a waterskin. “You were in-cred-ible, yes?” Riel’s pronunciation was strained.

Leo gratefully accepted the water, gulping it down in large swallows and pouring it over his hair and face. “That is one way to put it.” He said, his shaky smile returning. He looked around, grabbing his Pip-Boy and discarded clothes. It was late, late enough that his absence was certainly noticed at the NCR camp. “I should be getting back…” he started, a cold dread washing over him. Leo had been gone for hours. There would certainly be questions about his unexplained disappearance.

Riel and Bor offered to escort him, their presence a welcome distraction from his growing dread. As they began walking back through the village, Leo opened up, regaling them with tales of his journey through the wastes to where he found himself now. He could tell they only partially understood, but their eyes were wide with interest. They seemed to enjoy his stories of Vault City, a place that sounded almost mythical to them. Leo showed them his Pip-Boy, proof of his claims of a utopia with medicine and technology rarely seen in the last 200 years. Bor took particular interest in the device, amazed by the glowing screen and flickering interface.

Leo wanted to show off, enjoying the puzzled look on his new friends’ faces as they came to realize who they had just fucked senseless. He scrolled through the radio frequencies received by his Pip-Boy, old-world music, military transmissions repeating since the bombs fell, and something else. There was another frequency, one that wasn’t there when they arrived. Leo turned it on.

A noisy, garbled voice came on over his Pip-Boy, speaking in some sort of code. “…terra… umbra… venire…” the voice continued, but the signal was too weak to make out the words. Bor and Riel looked to each other with an expression Leo hadn’t seen from them before, fear.

“Legion…” They said quietly to one another.

“Legion?” Leo asked.

The two tribals seemed to search each other’s faces for a way to communicate what they were thinking in English, pausing for some time.

“The enemy.” Riel’s face twisted with concern.

“Slavers.” Bor continued.

Leo’s sense of levity and excitement vanished. He strained to decipher the message, his heart rate accelerating. What was it? Who was sending it? The transmission repeated a few times before growing silent, the only sound a crackling static from his Pip-Boy. He looked at Riel and Bor, sharing their concern.

“The voice on your Pip-Boy,” The word was clumsy on Riel’s tongue, “they are close, yes?”

Leo understood the question, fear scraping at the edges of his awareness. “Close enough that we can hear them,” he said, “They could be hundreds of miles away, or very close.”

Riel didn’t like what he heard. “How close?” He insisted.

“I don’t know!” Leo exclaimed. “Radio can travel very fast and very far.”

Bor chimed in, “Legion steals our people, say we surrender. Say we join them.”

Riel took notice of Leo’s growing anxiety. “We get you back to your N-C-R camp. Safest with guns, yes?” He did his best to calm Leo’s nerves.

The rest of their journey was quiet. They exited the village gate, the tattered NCR camp was in sight. Leo felt relief, but also fear. A part of him wanted to stay with Riel and Bor, if not for the wild sex, for companionship. Leo turned to look at his new friends for what would likely be the last time. his eyes wide and doughy. Riel and Bor smiled, returning his affection.

“This is it…” Leo sighed.

“We see you again.” Riel said with confidence. “Next time you are in Circle Junction, yes?” He forced a smile, understanding the improbability of his statement.

“We fuck anytime.” Bor laughed, his arm resting heavily on Leo’s shoulder.

Leo threw himself forward, embracing both of the men, his arms stretching to encompass their collective girth. “I’d like that.” He said. “Next time…”

Leo reentered the camp to find Mara on watch. Here eyebrows raised in suspicion, “Where were you?” She asked, taking the last drag off a cigarette.

“I was uhh…” Leo stammered, “was getting to know the area.”

“Yeah… Sounds just like you.” Mara didn’t sound impressed. “Friends of yours?” She pointed to Riel and Bor walking off toward the village gate with a telling swagger.

“Yeah. They were in the area.” Leo replied.

Mara laughed, her serious demeanor cracking. “Fraternizing with the locals huh? I didn’t think you had it in you. Maybe the mercenary life suits you.”

Leo blushed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You should make sure Ramirez knows your here.” Mara started. “Your absence was noted…” she said, raising her eyebrows and making a comically serious expression. “She sent a man out looking for you, or your Pip-Boy at least, and Kellan started asking around town. They’re still out there as far as I know.”

“I’ll get right on it.” Leo started walking, straightening his posture.

“Hold up, hold up.” Mara stretched out her arm to stop him. She leaned in, sniffing at his neck and hair. “Wow… didn’t you just have a bath today?” She had a wicked grin on her face.

Leo’s blush returned and he scrambled away.

“How many?!” Mara shouted after him.

He ignored her, doing his best to pretend he didn’t hear. Leo walked into the command tent. Despite the late hour, Ramirez and her staff were working.

“Ah!” The lieutenant’s eyes fixed on Leo the moment he appeared, darting to and from his wrist. “There you are.” She seemed too calm for comfort. “So you weren’t lost then?”

“No, Ma’am” Leo did his best to appear formal.

“I had counted on you sticking with Kellan. Why didn’t you?” Her question was pointed and intentional.

“I was following Kellan back to the gate and…” Leo realized he already closed the door on the getting lost excuse. “I ran into some locals.” He stated. There was a long pause, Ramirez allowed the silence to simmer. “They showed me around. We wrestled, and went for a drink. I lost track of time.” Leo felt satisfied with his answer.

“That doesn’t really sound like you but, given your earlier indiscretion, I’m obliged to accept the possibility.” Ramirez sighed. “You’re being truthful with me?”

“Yes,” Leo said. “Ma’am.”

Ramirez rubbed her eyes. “Listen, you might not be NCR formally, but you are under my command. Your expertise and your equipment are vital to our mission, and it’s my responsibility to see the mission done.” Her tone was serious. “For your own safety, and for the good of the mission, the NCR, and Vault City, you can’t be going rogue like that.”

Leo felt a pang of shame. Shame tinged by fear, fear that he didn’t feel it strongly enough. The lieutenant’s invocation of Vault City, the NCR, the mission, they felt like distant fantasies compared to the immediacy of his encounter with the tribals, he could still smell them on his breath. Finally, Leo squeaked out, “I know. I’m sorry.” His eyes were downcast.

“Good. It won’t happen again.” Ramirez said with finality. “Dismissed.”

Leo began to shrink away, before stopping. A flash of inspiration might allow him to save himself some dignity. “Lieutenant, while I was out, I picked up a strange radio signal on my Pip-Boy…”

Ramirez turned to Leo with renewed attention. “A strange signal? How strange?” She asked.

Suddenly Leo felt like he shouldn’t have said anything. “I uh… I’m not sure. It was in some kind of code in a language I don’t know.”

The lieutenant’s patience was wearing thin. “You don’t know what it was?”

“The locals I was with… they said it was Legion.”

“Legion…” Ramirez’s fingers cupped her chin in a pensive gesture. “As in, the slavers from Arizona?”

“They said they were slavers,” Leo started, “That they’ve taken people from the village, and they demanded their surrender.” He spoke with uncharacteristic authority.

“Hmm…” Ramirez didn’t seem to like what she was hearing. “If it’s the same Legion from Arizona, they’re operating a lot further out than I would have imagined.” She continued, turning her back to Leo, muttering something to one of the men under her command who made note. She returned her gaze to Leo. “This is good intel Leonard. Next time, lead with that. Dismissed.”

This time Leo left, his head held a little higher. No sooner did he exit the tent than he bumped into Kellan.

“Whoa!” Kellan shouted. “I was wondering where you got off too. Where were you?” His tone seemed less concerned with Leo, and more concerned with himself. “Were you talking about The Legion in there?”

Was he listening? Leo thought. Leo stood in silence for a moment, unable to feel the warmth he used to feel between them. “Yeah, I heard something on the radio and some local guys I met recognized it as being Legion.” He said. “Have you heard of them?”

Kellan seemed almost relieved. “I’ve heard of them. They’re a bunch of slavers, no real trouble.” His voice was steady. “You said you heard them on the radio? I thought they were primitives. Hardly ever see one with a gun. Might not even be Legion.”

Leo was growing uncomfortable. “That’s what the tribal guys said. They seemed pretty sure about it.”

“Who are these guys anyway? Never took you for the type to make friends easy.” Kellan said.

“Just some tribesman I met at the bathhouse. We got some drinks. I was showing them my Pip-Boy.” Leo’s deception came off more practiced this time.

Kellan shifted his gaze. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises.” He said. “I had heard some people say they saw a blonde guy in blue walking with a group of men but I almost didn’t think it was you.”

“Maybe you’ve rubbed off on me.” Leo said in a disarming tone.

“Maybe I have, maybe I will.” Kellan matched Leo’s evasion. “See you around, kiddo.” He turned and left.

Kiddo? Leo sneered. He began walking to the barracks tent, eager for a chance to sleep off his soreness. Mulling over the conversation with Kellan he began to wonder. Was he listening in on the conversation with lieutenant Ramirez? Was he being forthcoming about what he knew of the Legion? But most of all, the transmission lingered in his head. What was its meaning? He felt a chill crawl down his spine, a sense of dread that pierced through the lingering aches in his body. Something was happening, something big, and he was caught in the middle of it.

Chapter Text

Leo and the NCR caravan continued west down I-70, finally escaping the rugged mountains and entering the foothills overlooking the high plains of ruined Denver, Dog City. Leo had spent days pouring over old maps in the Vault archive, but he had never envisioned the scale or grandeur he found in reality. A scale that was emphasized by the desolation and ruin stretching for miles in every direction. Skeletal buildings scraped the morning sky in the city center, jutting out like exposed ribs on a desiccated corpse. The city was warped by time and decay, twisted metal and shattered concrete were all that remained of a once great civilization.

They exited the foothills, descending into the urban corridor. Leo looked up at the crumbling architecture around him, understanding for the first time, the scale of destruction that visited the earth during the Great War almost two centuries ago. He imagined the walls of Vault City, housing barely over a hundred souls, and the ramshackle settlement of Circle Junction, perhaps a few hundred more; they pale in comparison to the many thousands, maybe millions who once called this city home. Everyone he’d ever laid eyes on could be vaporized in atomic fire, hundreds of times over, and it would not match the loss of life in Denver alone. Leo felt a chill travel down his spine.

The caravan came to a halt. Ramirez spoke with Kellan briefly before turning to the group. “Alright, everyone close in. We’re entering Dog City, keep your eyes open and your head’s low. No telling what we’ll encounter before we make it to the salvager camp. No one gets separated, no one goes anywhere alone.”

Kellan took point and Mara took up the rear, the only two members of the party who had been to Dog City before. Leo had been avoiding Kellan for the past few days, preferring to keep to the back of the caravan. His hand drifted over the pistol on his hip. Leo had a bad feeling that he might finally fire at a live target today. Mara seemed to sense his unease.

“First time in Dog City, right, vault boy?” She said, a rhetorical question.

Leo’s hand drifted away from his holster. “You know that…” He scoffed, smirking. “I’ve seen it on maps though, and I’ve read about it in logs from previous residents of my Vault.”

“Oh?” Mara seemed genuinely surprised. “You mean, like, the people from before the war?”

“Yeah, from back when it was still called Denver.” He said.

“What did they say?” Mara asked.

Leo thought for a long moment, unsure if Dog City was really Denver in any meaningful sense. “Well, it was home for them. A lot of them were separated from their families when the bombs fell and the Vault doors closed. They wrote a lot about the people they left behind, the food they used to eat… and things they regretted never doing before the end of the world.”

Mara was quiet. “That’s… grim. Kinda puts things in perspective though, huh?”

Leo hadn’t thought of it like that. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, those were, like, your great grandparents right?” She started, “In a way, you’re coming home.”

“I suppose that’s true…” Leo’s eyes wandered, searching for something that seemed like home. It was then that he spotted the first feral dog, standing alone on a side street, not too far from the caravan. Leo’s gaze fixed on the creature, silhouetted against the sun, rummaging through a pile of debris. The dog’s shadow was lean, with a sharp, angular face and stiff ears. As it gradually came into focus, Leo saw ragged fur, wild eyes, and… he was obviously male. Leo’s gaze lingered between the dog’s legs, noticing his ample package, comparing him to men he’d seen so exposed. The dog looked up, returning Leo’s stare.

Mara noticed Leo’s lingering gaze, “You find those creatures… appealing?” She raised an eyebrow.

Leo’s eyes snapped back to Mara’s face, embarrassed. Even still, he saw the silhouette of the dog in his mind, lean muscle, sharp features, exposed genitals; raw, animalistic freedom. “I’ve just only seen a couple of dogs before…” he replied meekly.

“You’re gonna fit right in here,” Mara said with a laugh. “Maybe you’ll even end up making friends…”

Leo’s face grew red. What was she implying? Was she right?

As they continued through the outskirts of the city, more and more of the titular dogs appeared. The lone beast Leo had spotted was something of an anomaly. Most of the other dogs he saw were in packs, growing larger in number as they penetrated deeper into the ruins. Leo began to grow intimidated, the silent stares of the feral packs monitored their every move. They seemed to be taking measure of the caravan, calculating whether the potential meal was worth the fight.

Mara tapped Leo’s shoulder. “Look up there,” she pointed high, at a hole in a building. “Hangdogs.”

Leo looked. He saw two men watching them, weapons in hand, and two dogs by their sides. The men were wearing rough clothing with scrappy leather armor. The dogs were armored as well, with sheet metal hammered out to fit their forms, bound with wire and rope. They watched in silence.

“Should we be worried?” Leo asked, his voice shaky.

“No,” Mara said bluntly, “They’re just watching. We aren’t in their territory yet. They tend to let the ferals deal with outsiders instead of attacking themselves.”

Leo was not at ease. “I’m not sure that’s better…” He said.

“Relax vault boy.” Mara had a casual tone. “They wouldn’t waste ammunition on us, not unless they thought they’d win the fight.” She let out a grunt, as if realizing something. “Kinda like the ferals in that way, huh?”

Even so, Leo looked up at the Hangdogs, a palpable sense of dominance radiating from them. One of the Hangdog men crouched, his head next to one of the dog’s, as if whispering something to the beast. “Hey,” Leo returned his gaze to Mara, “why are there so many dogs here anyway? I’ve hardly ever seen them where I come from.”

“Probably just because you guys were too far out in the desert.” Mara guessed aloud. “As for why there are so many in Dog City? I don’t know. The Hangdogs say it’s because the city is a sacred place, the dog’s were drawn in by a canine spirit who, of course, gifted the city to the Hangdogs alone.”

Leo rolled the story over in his head. It was absurd. “Do you believe it?” He asked.

“No,” she replied tersely, “but I think they might be getting close to the truth.” Mara lowered her voice. “Something is definitely different about the dogs in this city… all the animals really, I think it rubs off on the people too.”

“What do you mean?” Leo was intrigued, Mara had been evasive around this subject before.

“Have you seen how big some of these packs are getting?” Mara asked. “You don’t see gangs of dogs that size outside of Dog City, they’re smarter, and at least partially rad resistant too. They drink form irradiated puddles and runoff, but they seem to keep most of their fur, and they’re obviously breeding.” She drew in closer to Leo. “I’ve seen dogs with metal limbs, part animal, part robot…” She said, playing up her ominous inflection.

Leo’s face twisted into a deflecting smile. “You mean a cyberdog?”

Mara’s look of self amusement vanished. “You’ve heard this one before!?” She sounded almost offended. “How is it that you can’t even feed yourself in the wasteland but you’ve seen a cyberdog?”

“Oh, I’ve never seen one.” Leo enjoyed turning the tables on Mara’s teasing. “They were popular characters in pre-war comics. I read about them in the Vault, they were the go to side-kick in police and military fiction.”

Mara was befuddled. “A what? They’re pre-war?” She could hardly believe Leo knew something she didn’t, and it vexed her to no end. “No way they’re that old…” Her face was contorted in thought.

“Well… unless they’re making new ones,” Leo said. “I guess they’d have to be that old.”

“You are full of surprises, vault boy.” Mara’s affect normalized, she almost sounded impressed. “What other secrets are bouncing around in that head of yours?”

Daylight burned quickly, and the caravan was making slow progress through the streets of Dog City. They were constantly redirected by collapsed buildings, sunken streets, and huge packs of feral dogs. The NCR soldiers were becoming edgy, their heads scanning in every direction, weapons ready. The usual chatter and banter of the caravan had given way to ominous silence.

As twilight fell, Leo was growing concerned. His unease was mirrored in the faces of those around him. He turned to Mara, “Are we going the right way?”

Mara replied quietly, “I’m not so sure, it was only supposed to be half a day’s walk to reach the salvager camp.” She seemed to be considering all possibilities in her head. “I’m gonna go talk to Kellan and Ramirez, hold up the rear, would you?” She took off toward the front of the Caravan.

Before long Mara returned, Leo was relieved. “Kellan says we’re close but…” She began, “I don’t like this. I haven’t been to the salvager camp, but I don’t see smoke or any signs of a settlement around. Where there’s a permanent encampment, there’s fire.” She pointed far off in the distance, narrow pillars of smoke were visible coming from somewhere in the city center.

“Do you think the salvagers are still there?” Leo asked, doing his best to contain his fear.

She paused. “I don’t know…”

Just as the last rays of the sun were dipping below the horizon, the caravan came upon a barricade in the road. It looked to be hastily constructed, piles of tires and debris moved into the middle of the street.

“Oh shit…” Mara murmured.

Leo’s heart quickened, hair standing up on the back of his neck. The shadows enveloping the street seemed to be closing in.

From the gloomy barricade, a man appeared. He wore an unusual fringed helmet and pre-war sports equipment as armor, accented with bold crimson. He had a unusually well crafted blade on his waist. He smirks, the white of his teeth flashing in the darkness.

The man started, “Profligate dogs lost in the wastes. Relying on rented escort in a foreign land. How pathetic.” His voice was calm, almost conversational, dripping with contempt.

The NCR soldiers were on edge, weapons trained on the darkness, waiting only for the order to fire. Shadows moved in the side streets, they were surrounded. Leo’s hand fumbled with his holster, shaking uncontrollably.

The man in crimson continued, “You think money buys loyalty? It buys only momentary service.” His focus turned to Kellan. “But you were discerning weren’t you? Sensing the balance of power, you chose loyalty to coin… predictably.” The man’s smile widened, extending a coin purse in payment.

Kellan hesitated. Leo felt his blood begin to boil. The air thickened with tension. Kellan stepped forward, reaching out for his payment. Before he could react, a machete flashed – a silver arc in the fading light. Kellan’s right hand fell to the ground. The man in crimson armor’s cut was swift, brutal, and disturbingly clean, severing muscle and bone with sickening ease. Kellan doubled over in agony, a strangled scream tearing from his throat. blood pooled beneath him.

“You would do well to take a lesson in loyalty from the local dogs.” The man declared, hatred clear in his voice. He threw the poultry sum of coins at Kellan’s feet. “As for the rest of you…”

Just then, shots rang out somewhere near the caravan. The man in crimson ducked, shouting something Leo didn’t understand, but recognized immediately; Legion. Battle ensued. The NCR caravan dissolved into chaos. Soldiers fired into the darkened side streets, felling legionnaires wielding machetes and hurling spears. Gunfire did little to slow their advance.

Mara reacted instantly, shoving Leo to the ground. “Get down, now!” She barked. Her voice urgent and fearful. They both hit the cracked asphalt, sparse rifle rounds whizzing over their heads. “We need to move!”

Leo scrambled along the ground. The cacophony of battle drowned out Kellan’s screams. He found a brick doorway to hide within, Mara joining him, her body pressed close. He could feel the tremor in her muscles.

“We’re fucked, we gotta bail!” Mara shouted. She leaned out of the doorway, unleashing a burst of fire from her weapon.

Leo’s ears rang, Mara’s voice was a dull echo beating against his ear drums. His hands trembled, shaking so badly he couldn’t thread his finger into the trigger guard of his pistol.

“Find us a way out to the East. It’s Hangdog territory, our only chance!” Mara screamed.

Adrenaline pumped through Leo’s veins. He set his gun aside, pulling up the map on his Pip-Boy, fumbling with the dials. “That way!” He shouted, pointing across the street to an alleyway.

Mara’s eyes followed Leo’s gesture to the target. “Fuck!” She paused. “We’re gonna have to make a run for it.” There was a silent apology in her gaze, and a desperate hope for survival. “Just keep your head down and run as fast as you can. Don’t give yourself away firing your weapon.”

Leo’s heart pounded in his chest. “Okay…” He shook his head in affirmation, steeling himself for death, gripping his pistol. Despite his fear, there was a chilling certainty of action. He understood what he had to do, live or die.

Mara broke cover first, crouching as low as she could while maintaining top speed. Leo followed. Running through the street, he saw the battle for the melee it had become. The legion warriors had closed the distance with the NCR. Fire was exchanged at close range. Between flashes of gunfire, Leo saw the whites of the legionnaires’ eyes, their faces contorted with fury. Machetes hacked into flesh, cleaving through the NCR soldiers who fell into mangled piles. He stumbled over a body, blood sticking to his boots.

They made it to the other side of the street, slipping into the alleyway. Leo breathed for what felt like the first time in minutes. His legs burned. There was no time to waste. Mara continued, and Leo followed.

As soon as they rounded the corner of the alleyway, two legionnaires appeared. Time seemed to slow down. Leo and Mara raised their weapons at the legionnaires. Leo pulled the trigger, again and again, until he was out of ammunition. A series of bright flashes illuminated the alleyway. Leo smelled the igniting gunpowder and felt the kick of his weapon. He blinked. The legionnaires lay on the ground, deathly still. Leo looked himself over, checking for blood. By some miracle, he was unharmed.

Mara was not so lucky however. “Agh!” She screamed, clutching her side. “Shit!”

Leo’s heart sank, and he felt tears welling up in his eyes. He didn’t know what to do.

“Come on, we have to go!” Mara’s voice was strained, clenching her teeth.

Leo and Mara ran as fast as they could. But they could not keep up the pace for long. Mara began to slow down. Leo heard legionnaires shouting in the distance. He pushed himself against Mara, allowing her to lean on him for support. They hobbled a short distance.

“They’re gonna catch us both Leo…” Mara’s voice was weak, but firm.

“No!” Leo snapped in anger. “No…” His vision blurred. “We can still make it together.” He didn’t want to be alone.

“It’s okay… vault boy.” She sounded tired. “You can come back for me later… I’ll lay low.”

Leo wanted to believe her, but he knew how this was likely to end.

“Just… put me down in the trench there.” Mara pointed to a drainage ditch by the side of the road.

Reluctantly, Leo hobbled with Mara to the ditch, helping her into the narrow chasm.

“Ow… fuck…” Mara sneered. “The adrenaline is wearing off.” She settled into a restless posture against the sloped wall. “There’s Med-X… in my coat” She patted a pocket on her side.

Leo rummaged through Mara’s pockets, finding the Med-X. He removed the cap, administering the dose like he was taught in the Vault City civil defense drills.

“You really are full of surprises…” She chuckled softly. Mara looked Leo in the eyes. “Keep heading east. Look for the high rises with rope bridges between them, those are Hangdog camps.”

Leo’s tears returned. “I’m going to find help and come back for you!” He said meekly.

Mara smiled, the Med-X numbing her pain. “You do that, vault boy… I trust you.”

Leo wrapped his arms around Mara’s neck, and she raised a hand to his shoulder. “Goodbye, Mara…” He stood, climbing from the ditch and running into the ruins nearby. It was mere moments before he heard the legionnaires on his tail once more.

Leo ran as hard as he could. The world blurred into a smear of ochre and grey. He didn’t dare look back, didn’t want to. Every ragged breath tasted like ash and failure. It wasn’t even the fear of dying that pushed him forward, though ever present, rather it was the how of it.

Kellan. His name felt tainted. The image of his hand, reaching for the coins, flashed behind his eyes. How could he have betrayed them like that, betrayed him? The questions hammered at his skull, unanswered and unanswerable. He’d placed his trust in someone who’d willingly sold them out, and the realization left a gaping wound.

Then there was Mara. His eyes squeezed shut, the metallic tang of blood rising in his throat. The way she stumbled after being shot, the desperate futile attempt to keep running. He’d run. He told himself it was survival, that he could help her if he got away. But the logic felt flimsy, a pathetic attempt to justify his own cowardice, abandoning someone who’d offered him kindness, a friend in this fucked up world. He pictured her lying there, alone in the ditch, and a wave of nausea washed over him.

He was utterly alone.

The caravan… gone. Reduced to scattered corpses and burning wreckage. He hadn’t even known all of their names. He’d been a shadow, drifting through their ranks, hoping to remain unnoticed and escape unscathed. Now, that anonymity felt like a curse. There was no one to mourn with, no one to share the burden of this horror.

Ducking and weaving through the bombed out remains of an ancient suburb. He came upon a rusty chain-link fence, surrounding an old factory. Leo climbed over, hearing legionnaires mounting the fence only moments behind him. He darted into the crumbling ruin.

Inside, there was a labyrinth of access corridors and production floors. Leo ran down a narrow hallway, scanning for some place to hide, the echoing voices of the legionnaires had entered the building. He found the entrance to a sub-basement. Perhaps it was his life in the Vault, perhaps it was irrational, but going underground felt safest.

In the sub-basement, Leo found heavy equipment, long since stripped for parts and components. The room was still, dusty, quiet. Leo scrambled between the four corners of the room, searching for somewhere, anywhere to hide. He slid himself between an old fusion generator and the wall. His heart beat against his chest, closely confined in his hiding spot.

Minutes blurred into a suffocating eternity. The silence, punctuated only by condensation dripping from the pipes and his own breathing, was more terrifying than the initial chaos. Then, the sounds changed. Footsteps. Closer now, echoing off the concrete walls of the basement. Leo’s muscles tensed, his body coiled like a spring, ready to flee, to fight, to do anything to survive.

They were close. Too close. Rough, guttural voices, speaking a mix of broken English and the Legion tongue drew nearer. Suddenly, a firm hand gripped Leo’s arm. He was yanked from his hiding place, sprawling out on the ground between the legionnaires.

Leo looked up. Three young men, powerfully built, well fed and scarred, stood over him. They wore scavenged armor, patched together from various sources. They carried crude but effective weapons, makeshift clubs, blades, and spears.

They loomed over Leo like rapacious wolves, their shadows stretching across the basement walls. The lead warrior, a particularly imposing, intense man, had a predatory grin spreading across his face. He looked Leo over with undisguised interest.

“This one would make a fine slave.” The lead warrior said. “Perhaps we should keep him for ourselves…” His comrades erupted into a chorus of laughter, their eyes locking onto Leo with a hunger that reminded him of the tribals from Circle Junction. Despite his fear, Leo found their interest disturbingly arousing.

The lead warrior continued, “You may not be able to bear children for Caesar, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t at least try.” His smile was wicked, reveling in the power he held over Leo.

No sooner had the lead warrior begun unbuckling his armor, then one of the legionnaires shouted from the rear. The sounds of claws scratching on concrete echoed through the open doorway, dozens of them. The heavy breathing of a multitude of beasts exerting themselves bounced off the walls.

The legionnaires turned around, one of them shouted. The shout ripped through the tense silence, instantly turning the legionnaires predatory focus into panicked confusion. A relentless growing wave of sound, a cacophony of scratching claws, echoed off the concrete walls. A furious, chaotic chorus that spoke of overwhelming numbers. The space filled with a primal, animalistic tension.

Then Leo saw him, a wild dog stood in the doorway like a knight in shining armor. Other dogs rushed in, a wave of teeth and claws tearing into the legionnaires with savage efficiency. They ripped at weapons and clothes, stripping the humans of their defenses. The legionnaires, caught off guard and outnumbered, screamed in terror as they were brought to the ground, their struggles growing increasingly frantic and desperate.

But it wasn’t just the physical assault that was so shocking. As the dogs swarmed over them, a pulse of arousal rippled through the room. Leo’s scent, mingled with fear and desperation, seemed to ignite a primal hunger in the pack. Some of the dogs began to mount the struggling humans, their bodies contorting with raw, unbridled lust. Others nipped and licked at exposed flesh, their tongues tracing patterns of desire across human skin.

The scene unfolding was a horrifying, intoxicating ballet of dominance. The legionnaires, once so confident, were now reduced to whimpering, struggling masses beneath the weight of the canine assault. Individual dogs moved with focused precision, each seemingly knowing their role in the coordinated take down.

One particularly large mongrel had a slaver pinned by the throat, not actively harming him, but holding him immobile while another dog began to systematically strip the man of his armor, dismantling his protective gear. A smaller, wiry beast was fixated on the legionnaire’s belt, relentlessly tugging at the buckle, driven by some perverse fascination. The man was subjected to the weight and thrust of multiple canines. A hulking mastiff mounted the man’s back, his powerful legs clamping down, while another mounted his head.

The other legion warriors fared no better. Leo watched, mesmerized, as the scent and instinct of the dogs filled the room. A warrior who had been wielding a machete just moments before, now laid prone, eyes glazed over, as a sleek, black dog licked his neck. Another legionnaire, a powerfully built man with a scarred face, trembled as a dog’s weight and warmth began to unlock something primal within him.

The beasts licked and nudged. Dogs began to work their tongues and bodies with increasing intensity, finding marks that elicited moans and gasps from the warriors. Leo watched as the creatures’ arousal grew more prominent, slick red rods poking out of their sheathes, prodding at the legionaries’ holes.

Then, the leader of the pack approached Leo. He moved with a grace and power that was both terrifying and alluring. His eyes, burning with an intense, familiar hunger, locked onto Leo’s, a silent invitation passing between them. He lowered his head, nudging Leo’s hand with his nose, a signal of his intent. His scent, a potent mix of animal musk and raw desire, filled Leo’s nostrils, sending a wave of heat through his body.

The dog turned, raising his leg, presenting himself, a clear offering of the same inhuman pleasure that was being forced upon the others. His tail swayed slowly, deliberately, a clear signal of his dominance. Leo felt a tremor run through his body, a mixture of fear and desire warring within him. He knew, with terrifying certainty, that resisting was futile. He was under the power of the pack, and the leader was offering him mercy. More than mercy, a glimpse into a world of primal, untamed pleasure, a world that promised to shatter his perceptions of desire and control.

Leo swallowed hard. He stared into the dog’s loins, his canine manhood swelling in his sheath, dripping with desire, his balls full and heavy. It was sick, but it was everything Leo ever wanted. At his lowest, alone in the world, he was offered warmth – submission – and he accepted the invitation.

The weight of the alpha settled onto Leo’s shoulders, both terrifying and exhilarating. The scent of musk, wet fur, and raw power overwhelmed Leo, eclipsing rational thought. Inches from his nose, the plump sheath pulsed with life, a stark symbol of the dominance he’d willingly surrendered to. He drank deeply of the dog’s scent, a primal urge taking over. As with the wrestlers, his body responded to the sheer physicality of the beast above him.

With a slow, inexorable slide, the dog’s sheath parted. His slick length further revealing itself as he pressed it against Leo’s face. Pearls of pre-cum beaded at the tip, a tantalizing promise. Leo’s mouth opened instinctively, accepting the offering, his tongue exploring the warm, wet flesh. The taste was wild, earthy, unlike anything he’d ever experienced, a potent blend of instinct and raw desire.

Leo worked with focused intensity, exploring every ridge and curve as the dog’s cock grew in his mouth. It was shameful. His tongue traced the textured skin, coaxing out further secretions. The dog’s body trembled with arousal, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Leo let the thick shaft fall from his mouth, his gaze tracing the impressive length, marveling at its size and power. The girthy, red rod, pulsed before him with energy and virility. At the base of his penis, still stuck in the tight confines of his sheath, a large, bulbous knot formed, promising pleasure no human male could provide. A powerful contraction seized the dog, and a generous squirt of pre-cum coated Leo’s face, a warm baptism into this new, savage world. The scent filled his nostrils, wiping fear from his mind.

The alpha seemed to recognize Leo’s submission for what it was, reading his body language and scent. He began to thrust with increasing force, his hips driving his veined cock into Leo’s mouth. His throat burned with effort, but he welcomed the sensation, the feeling of being utterly consumed by his bestial savior. He could feel the dog’s balls swaying with each movement, wafting his musk through the still air.

The dog’s relentless thrusts were a feral counterpoint to the memory of Kellan’s deliberate teasing, the slow, controlled exploration of the Iron Lines tribals that had felt so safe. Rough as they had been, they possessed a human warmth, a shared understanding of mutual pleasure. This was something else entirely. A pure, unadulterated force of nature.

Each stroke was a violation, a stripping away of everything Leo thought he was. He remembered the shame that had burned in his cheeks with the tribesman, the furtive glances, the desperate need to justify what he was doing. Now that shame was warped, twisted into something akin to exhilaration. He was still submitting, still lowering himself to a stronger male, but the context had shifted. This wasn’t about desperation, survival, or even pleasure. This was worship.

He choked down another mouthful of thin, hot pre-cum, the taste coating his tongue, erasing any lingering vestiges of his former self. The dog’s cock, a magnificent, veined pillar of muscle, filled his mouth, demanding his complete attention. He traced the prominent ridges with his tongue, marveling at the sheer power contained within. It was obscene, barbaric, and utterly intoxicating.

A strange disconnect settled over him. He was aware of his own body, of the hot flesh filling his throat, the slickness of seminal fluid, the rhythmic thrusts that were slowly driving him to the edge of oblivion. But he was also detached, observing himself from a distance, as if he were watching someone else succumb to this primal urge.

Had he been brought so low? To revel in submission to a dog? The thought was horrifying, yet he couldn’t deny that pleasure that was building within him. The shame was still there, a dull ache in his chest, but it was overshadowed by a growing hunger, a desperate need to surrender completely to this overwhelming force. He never imagined this when he left the vault, never dreamed of finding sanctuary between a dog’s legs.

And yet… now, he couldn’t imagine anything else. The scent of the dog’s balls filled his nostrils, wiping away the last vestiges of his former life. The dog’s body trembled with arousal, growling in satisfaction. He was a beast, a predator, and Leo was willingly offering himself as tribute. He was no longer a man, not really. He was something… less, something wilder, something more. He was a vessel for his alpha’s pleasure, completely consumed by the raw power of the beast.

Then, a brief glimpse of the knot, slipping free from the dog’s sheath, before it disappeared once more, buried within Leo’s mouth. The dog’s climax began, a series of powerful contractions that sent hot ropes of seed shooting down Leo’s throat, replacing the salty sweetness of pre-ejaculate with the bitterness of cum.

The world dissolved into a haze of sensation as the alpha’s orgasm ripped through him. The rapid thrusts ceased abruptly, replaced by a shuddering stillness that only intensified the pressure within Leo’s throat. He felt the knot, swollen and tight, trapping a torrent of cum against the back of his tongue, a hot, viscous damn threatening to burst. Leo swallowed, unable to keep up with the pace of the dog.

The scent was overpowering – musky, earthy, and intensely feral, a potent aroma that pervaded his senses, pure bliss. Each swallow was a searing wave of pleasure, the hot ropes of seed sliding down his throat. He moaned, his pallet vibrating against the dog’s knot, triggering a recursive feedback loop of pure ecstasy. The knot pulsed rhythmically, more and more cum trapped within him, amplifying the sensation with each contraction. He choked, unable to breathe, but the pleasure would not subside.

Leo screamed, or so he tried. The noise bubbled from his lips, muffled by the thick fluid filling his mouth. The alpha’s seed was consuming him, drowning him in wave after wave of primal pleasure. His body arched, muscles spasming uncontrollably as he desperately tried to accommodate the relentless beast. He felt himself losing control, his mind fracturing under the weight of the sensation. The world shrunk to the hot, thick seed filling his throat, the scent of musk invading his senses, and the rhythmic pulse of the knot, trapping him in a cycle of endless ecstasy.

Finally the alpha pulled out. The release was abrupt, a sudden lessening of pressure that left Leo gasping for breath. His knot released the reservoir of dog cum threatening to drown the vault dweller. Leo watched in awe as the dog left him, stunned by the size of the cock he swallowed and the torrent of cum rushing out of him. He convulsed, coughing up white fluid onto the concrete floor. The alpha seemed almost to smile, licking his seed as it driped from Leo’s lips. Leo laughed; partially relief, partially hysteria. He was on the precipice of madness, utterly consumed by the experience, his mind struggling to reconcile the primal ecstasy with the remnants of his former life.

He looked around the room, and his gaze landed on the legionaries, similarly entangled by canine bodies. Their faces flushed with pleasure and pain as they writhed and moaned, lost in their own encounters with the dogs. The room was a scene of utter debauchery, a feral orgy fueled by raw desire and the intoxicating dominance of the pack. They didn’t deserve this, he thought.

More dogs were entering the room, queuing up behind, and mounting those actively dominating the legionnaires. They came to Leo as well, mouths open, drooling; cocks dripping. Leo laid back, surrendering completely to the pleasure of the pack. He closed his eyes, abandoning himself to the sensations that washed over him, canine bodies pressing against his, their tongues probing, dicks seeking entry.

He felt a warm weight settle over him, followed by the slick, insistent pressure of a probing cock against his ass. Another dog entered his mouth, its length reigniting the dwindling fire of pleasure the alpha left within him. He moaned, surrendering to the relentless onslaught. The dogs raked at his vault suit, tearing it open, gaining access.

His body was flooded with sensation, every hole occupied, every nerve ending alight. They pounded him with animalistic energy. He writhed amid a sea of canine bodies, indifferent to who was inside him, lost in the blissful fugue state he craved so deeply. The rhythmic pulsing of the bestial cocks within him were his heartbeat, his thoughts, his entire being.

Suddenly, his consciousness returned, fixated on a stretching pressure in his ass. He gasped, moaning around another dog’s dick in his mouth. He felt the brutal pounding opening him wide, wider than any man ever had before. A removal of a boundary he hadn’t even realized he possessed. Each thrust pained him, but he found himself welcoming it, craving it. He arched his back, muscles screaming in protest, yet his body responded with an eager compliance.

Then, the knot was inside him.

It was sudden. He was paralyzed. A pressure locked him into place, a physical manifestation of his submission. Leo came, maybe the first time tonight, maybe for the first time in his life. He gasped, a strangled sound lost in the chorus of yips and growls surrounding him. He could feel only the sensation of the knot, swollen and tight, anchoring him to the beast.

His mind fractured. Thoughts dissolving back into the swirling chaos of sensation. The knot pulsed rhythmically, a hot, insistent throb that resonated through his entire body. It wasn’t just physical; it was spiritual. A complete merging of himself with the beast.

He felt the dog’s seed filling him, hot, viscous fluid that filled any gaps in his being. A primal life force coursed through his veins. He screamed, a guttural sound that echoed the dog’s growls.

The knot inside him pulsed again. He felt his own body responding, muscles clenching and releasing in a rhythmic spasm of pleasure, milking the dog’s balls for everything they had. He was no longer in control, not even of his body. He was a puppet, dancing to the rhythm of a dog’s pleasure.

Then, oblivion.

He wasn’t aware of his surroundings, not of the legionnaires, not of the dogs. He was lost in a swirling vortex of sensation, a complete and utter dissolution of self. He felt only the knot.

Adoration for the beast welled up inside Leo. He was powerful, dominant, and utterly captivating. He was everything Leo had ever desired, everything he had ever needed. He was his master, his god.

A strange sense of peace washed over him. He was no longer burdened by the weight of his past, not by regret, fear, or shame. He was free, finally and utterly free. He was a dog’s plaything, a hole meant to be knotted, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.