It had been months since the Tower had fallen and the City had been retaken. The Guardian scrabbled through the wreckage, digging, burrowing, searching, hoping against hope. He fractured a segment of stone, revealing a flickering blue and orange glow. Was it-? Could it be-? It was! A heavily damaged Vault terminal, still somehow connected to enough power to maintain a tenuous connection to the digital and physical personal gear holds farther down inside what was once the shining beacon of the Last City's heroes. His Ghost put their identification into the system while the Guardian did his best to enlarge the area around the half-wrecked te

Ah wonderous Spring nights, why must you vex me so, the fragrant breeze keeping my body burning awake, alive, thrumming with life, long after my mind would rather I just collapse, a heap along the ground. "A pox upon Spring!" I would say, were Springtime not the most wonderful of seasons-- and if it did not have one already! May man one day find a way to give pollen allergies of its own!