"Okay, five more laps!" Delilah called out, grinning as Altan jogged past. She was perched on the hood of a car, her chin resting in her hands, the vibrations from his heavy footsteps making the old husk rattle.

  Altan huffed, ejecting the fusion cell from his laser rifle mid-stride and sliding a fresh one into place with practiced ease. The cells and magazines strapped to his arms, belt, and legs jingled faintly as he moved. "If I didn't know any better," he said, his voice slightly distorted by the helmet's speakers, "I'd think you're enjoying this."

  Delilah kicked her legs idly, her grin widening. "Maybe I am," she teased. "But you still messed up that reload before. What if it happens again?"

  Altan groaned, slapping the rifle's cell latch into place and shouldering it as he jogged. He held the rifle at a high ready for a moment, then repeated the reload process. "Feels more like boot camp than practice," he muttered, though the faint amusement in his voice softened the complaint.

  Delilah smiled, the hood of the car rattling faintly beneath her as Altan jogged laps around the tunnel. She couldn’t help but grin, her amusement growing with each reload drill he performed. The morning had started off on a chaotic note. After slipping out of GNR through a crumbling lower level, the siblings had barely made it a block before running into a pack of feral ghouls.

  Terrifying at first, the creatures hadn’t been much of a threat; Altan cut through them like paper. That was, until he fumbled a reload. Forced to rely on brute strength, he delivered a hydraulic punch to the last ghoul’s chest, reducing it to an unsettling pile of twitching limbs and mush. Delilah had gagged. Altan, for his part, spent the next thirty minutes determined to make sure it wouldn’t happen again—jogging in circles, reloading his laser rifle and sidearms over and over.

  After his laps were done, Altan came to a halt near Delilah, his shoulders heaving as he leaned forward slightly. The hiss of his breath echoed through the external speakers of his helmet. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Lily. Just need a minute to catch my breath, and we’ll get moving.”

  The girl nodded and held out the half-empty bottle of Nuka-Cola she’d been sipping on during his laps. “Want the rest of this?” she asked, her tone light.

  Altan shook his head. “Nah, you finish it,” he said, straightening up and letting his rifle rest against his chest. Drawing his laser pistol, he glanced down at her. “You looking forward to Underworld?”

  “Kinda,” she replied, kicking her legs again. “It’s really cool seeing so many new places, even if it’s kinda scary sometimes—like, y’know, getting shot at.” Her eyes lit up with sudden excitement. “Do you think they’ll let me see the exhibits?”

  "Maybe," Altan said with a grin. "We’ll ask about it when we get there, okay?"

  Delilah nodded, and he offered a hand to help her off the car. She followed behind him, her gaze drifting to the armor that stomped along with her brother inside. Sentinel Lyons had explained a bit about it to her—it was a set of old T45 armor, with pieces from different variants ranging from B to E. It was scuffed, dinged, and even warped in a few spots from laser hits, but all in all, it had turned her big brother into a juggernaut. And that, she figured, hopefully meant that the next time they ran into a super mutant with a missile launcher, it wouldn’t—

  Delilah shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself as the memory of Altan slumped lifelessly against a car resurfaced. She quickly shook her head, pushing the thought away. That was then, this was now. Altan had taken the time to get healed up, and now he had this giant set of power armor to stomp around in. And if that somehow wasn’t enough? She glanced over her shoulder, where the stock of her grenade launcher protruded.

  She still had options.

  It took them an hour of walking through the metro tunnels, chatting idly as they passed the time. But then, it finally happened. As they rounded the corner past a derailed metro car, the sharp crack of gunfire echoed through the tunnels. A bullet struck Altan’s armor with a loud ping. Delilah screamed, her heart leaping into her throat. Altan flinched backward as if struck, instinctively pulling her behind him as he retreated toward the cover of the car.

  "Stay down!" he barked, his voice sharp and commanding as he crouched low behind the metro car, his eyes scanning the darkness ahead. His breath was heavy through the external speakers of his helmet, his senses sharp and alert. The silence of the tunnel stretched on, thick with the weight of uncertainty. Delilah’s heart raced, each passing second dragging on in a tense standstill. The only sounds were the distant echoes of their movement and the faint hum of his armor.

  A few long, tense moments passed, the oppressive stillness broken only by the distant creaks and groans of the abandoned metro system. Then, just when Delilah thought her heartbeat might drown out everything else, a low chuckle crackled through the helmet speakers, sending a chill down her spine.

  "Oh, I see you now, you little bastards," Altan’s voice came through, laced with the thrill of the hunt. There was something darkly satisfying in his words, as if the adrenaline coursing through his veins was sharpening his focus. Delilah’s stomach tightened, but she stayed low, keeping her grip on her laser pistol as she waited for his next move.

  He stepped around the derailed car with measured confidence, his own laser pistol humming to life in his grip. He fired into the darkness, the shots flashing red against the dim backdrop of the metro tunnel. With each sharp report, Delilah flinched, instinctively shrinking back behind the cover.

  The sound of a gurgling scream echoed briefly before the heavy thud of a body hitting the ground followed. Altan didn't pause; he fired again, the laser blast illuminating the tunnel in quick, bright bursts. Another body hit the ground with a dull, lifeless thud. He fired several more shots in quick succession, each resulting in similar sounds of victory as his targets dropped one by one. The air was thick with the smell of burnt flesh, and the distant echo of their falls rang through the tunnel.

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  Hesitantly, Delilah peered around the metro car, then quickly scurried over to her brother, who was stomping toward one of the corpses. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Altan glanced her way, and she raised a hand to shield her eyes as his headlamp flashed in her direction.

  "My bad, Lily," Altan replied. "And yeah, I’m fine. Just caught me off guard, y’know? It’s one thing to know the armor can stop bullets, but it’s another thing entirely to actually feel it. Kind of surreal." He chuckled softly, a hint of disbelief in his tone. "Guess I’ll need some time to get used to this."

  Delilah shoved his arm, her brows furrowing in disapproval. "You'd better not get used to that, mister. Not unless Miss Lyons lets us keep that power armor."

  Altan’s laughter rumbled in his chest. "'Us?' Last I checked, I’m the one wearing the armor. You’ll have to get your own if you want in on the fun."

  Delilah frowned for a moment, but then her expression shifted as the full meaning of his words hit her. "Wait, really?" she asked, her voice rising with excitement. When Altan nodded, she pressed on, her eyes wide. "Like, really really? No take-backs?"

  "I'm sure we can find someone to adjust a frame to your height. You're pretty much done growing now, so we should be able to keep tweaking it as we go." He nodded toward the corpses scattered around the tunnel. "I’m gonna loot these guys, and then we can move on. You mind covering me?"

  Delilah nodded, her gaze fixed on the dark tunnel ahead. She was relieved Altan hadn’t asked her to loot the raiders. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Sure, the bodies held things that could be useful for both of them, and sure, they’d shot at him, but... it still felt wrong. Their whole situation felt wrong. One moment, they’d been living almost peacefully in a safe, secure Vault, and now they were wandering the wasteland—shooting, looting, and getting shot at. It was all so different, so much more brutal. The contrast was jarring, and Delilah found herself wishing for something familiar.

  Exploring new places, meeting people, trying weird new foods—it was all exciting. But none of it felt like home. She missed Dad. She missed the Vault. Most of all, she missed feeling safe. She missed just being able to play with Altan after their work assignments were over. It was all just so hard now, and now she had to watch her brother kill actual people. And...

  "Okay, I'm done here. Let's go." Altan’s voice snapped Delilah out of her thoughts. She shakily nodded, her eyes drifting to the ground as she watched him slip something from one of the bodies into a pouch on his belt. She quickly turned away, unable to focus on the gruesome task. Thankfully, he’d moved the corpses to the far side of the tunnel, allowing her to avoid them as she passed. Still, the sight lingered in her mind, churning her stomach as she hurried to catch up.

  The rest of their journey was relatively uneventful—more of the same, really. They encountered more ghouls, and a few raider groups tried to ambush Altan as he stomped through the tunnels. But with uncanny accuracy, he took them down without breaking stride. All Delilah had to do was stay behind him, squeezing her eyes shut and gripping his belt for dear life as the sharp ping of bullets ricocheted off his armor. The noise was deafening, but with her brother at the front, she felt a strange sense of safety amidst the chaos.

  It was a heady feeling, if she were being honest with herself. For the last few weeks, she'd been worried sick about her brother. At first, it was him going out and coming back bloodied and bruised at the end of each day. Then, at Rivet City, she had to worry that he wouldn’t stay in bed and let himself heal after being blown up by a missile launcher.

  But now? None of the raiders had missile launchers. They were helpless before her brother, and for the first time in a while, she could worry just a little less about him.

  "Yeah, fuck you! Run away!" The taunts and concerningly manic laughter from her usually stoic brother told Delilah that Altan was feeling some kind of way too.

  Delilah hesitated for a moment, peeking around him as the last raider bolted. She’d seen Altan like this before—fury and adrenaline all wrapped up together. A part of her wanted to say something, to remind him to keep his head, but she already knew it wouldn’t make a difference. Not now.

  Instead, she stayed close, watching him take a deep breath as the last echoes of laughter faded into the tunnels. The tension in his posture slowly started to ease, though the weight of their day's journey still hung heavily in the air.

  "Are you okay, bro?" she asked, her voice quieter than usual, a trace of nervous concern edging her words.

  Altan turned to her, his breath heavy through the external speakers as he took a moment to collect himself. "Yeah, just... got lost in the moment," he said, his voice laced with a hint of awe. "This armor really is something, y'know?" He gave a quiet laugh, then reached over to pat her head gently, his tone shifting to something more familiar. "We should be almost to Underworld, right, Miss Navigator? How much farther?"

  Delilah nodded, though a small knot of worry tightened in her chest. She couldn't shake the feeling that things weren't as okay as he wanted her to believe. The last time he'd gotten this worked up, he ended up in a detention cell with several broken ribs. "Okay, bro. Just please be careful?" Her voice softened with concern. Then, as if to lighten the mood, a mischievous gleam flickered in her eyes. "Because you remember the last time you got like this, Officer Mack beat you up and put you in time-out for a whole week."

  Altan huffed, rolling his shoulders as if the memory still rankled. "First of all, it was Mack and three of his dickhead pals against me, a teenage kid at the time, and second of all, I gave as good as I got." He smirked, the memory of the fight bringing a rare spark of pride. "And finally, I got into that fight because they were pissed off that I kicked the shit out of their asshole kids for picking on us." He shook his head with a grin. "If they had just kept their kids in line, none of that would’ve happened."

  Delilah deflated, her earlier concern softening as she looked up at him. Altan knelt before her with a heavy clang, the weight of his power armor making the sound almost comical. "Oh, don't look like that. I'd do it again in a heartbeat," he said, his voice softer now. He reached out, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. "You're my best and favorite little sister, don't you know?"

  The words had the desired effect. Delilah's smile returned, and the tension in her shoulders eased. She nodded, her earlier worry fading, at least for the moment. "I know, Altan," she said, her voice soft but warm. "Just... don't go all crazy like that. It's... kinda scary, and I don’t like it." She extended her pinkie finger, holding it out to him. "Promise me."

  Altan hesitated for a moment, then let out a sigh. He stood, the hiss of his armor opening filling the silence. Stepping out, he crouched down and took Delilah's pinkie finger in his own. "Bringing out the big guns, huh?" He gave her a playful grin. "Okay, I promise. You can kick me in the shin if it happens again. Deal?"

  They shook on it, and after a brief struggle to escape from hands eager to tousle her hair, Delilah watched as Altan stepped back into his armor. It closed around him with a hiss, swallowing him up once more. It was pretty cool, and Delilah couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement at the thought of what it would be like to wear something so powerful.

  "Okay, Miss Navigator. Take us to Underworld. We're gonna rest there for the rest of the day and poke around to find some help with our mission." Altan said, unholstering his laser pistol.

  Delilah nodded wearily, her shoulders slumping slightly as she fell in line behind her brother. The weight of the day was catching up to her, but the thought of a break at Underworld helped ease some of the tension. They continued into the Museum Station metro, the flickering lights casting long shadows on the walls as their footsteps echoed in the quiet tunnels.