Fallout 4: Rebirth At Vault 81

If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my Patreon!!!

Go to https://www.patreon.com/Tang12

___________________________

The barricades shuddered under the impact of the raiders' final, frenzied assault. Gunfire roared. Explosions lit up the night.

Sico reloaded his rifle, his heart pounding in sync with the deafening gunfire and explosions around him. The barricades groaned under the relentless assault, but they were still holding—for now. The raiders, driven by their leader's furious orders, were pushing harder than ever, their desperation evident in the way they threw themselves at the defenses, bodies piling up in front of the gates.

"Keep firing!" Sico shouted, his voice hoarse but unwavering. He turned to Preston, who was crouched beside him, taking potshots at raiders attempting to scale the barricade. "They're getting reckless."

Preston nodded grimly. "Yeah, but that just makes 'em more dangerous."

Sico's eyes flicked toward Sarah, who was nearby, firing carefully aimed shots into the crowd of raiders. She was holding her own, but the battle was only getting worse.

"Sarah!" he called out.

She ducked as a bullet whizzed past her head, then turned to face him, breathless. "What?!"

"Take a few soldiers and get to the civilians. Make sure they're safe and ready to evacuate if we fail."

Sarah hesitated. "You really think—"

"Go!" Sico snapped. "We can't risk them getting caught up in this!"

Sarah clenched her jaw but nodded. "Stay alive," she said before grabbing a handful of troops and retreating toward the inner city.

Sico exhaled and grabbed his radio. "Piper! What's the status?"

A moment later, Piper's voice came through, crackling with static. "We're in position! Hancock and I are leading the reinforcements. We'll hit them from the flank."

Sico's grip on his rifle tightened. That was the opening they needed. "How soon?"

"The convoy stopped," Piper responded. "All the soldiers are gearing up. We're about to move in."

Sico allowed himself a rare, fleeting grin. "Good. Let me know when you hit 'em."

Preston glanced at him. "Reinforcements?"

Sico nodded. "Yeah. We just need to hold until they strike."

Preston exhaled sharply. "Easier said than done."

The barricade suddenly rocked as a massive explosion erupted just a few yards away. The blast sent dirt and debris flying, knocking Sico and Preston off their feet. The world blurred for a second, ringing in his ears like a relentless scream.

Sico pushed himself up, ears still ringing, and looked toward the impact site. A portion of the barricade was now a smoldering crater, and through the dust, raiders charged forward, howling like madmen.

"Shit," Sico growled. "They're breaching!"

Preston staggered to his feet. "Fall back! Cover the gap!"

The Minutemen scrambled to reposition, firing into the breach as fast as they could reload. Raiders poured in, some getting cut down instantly, others making it through, forcing brutal close-quarters combat.

Sico pulled out his pistol and shot a raider who had gotten too close. The man crumpled, but another took his place almost instantly. Sico ducked, swung his rifle like a club, and knocked the attacker back before finishing him with a quick shot to the chest.

The defenses were collapsing.

Then, the radio crackled.

"We're attacking! NOW!" Piper's voice was sharp, urgent.

Sico barely had time to react before the first explosion erupted from the raider's flank.

Gunfire erupted from behind their lines. Screams of confusion and pain cut through the battlefield as Piper and Hancock led the charge. The reinforcements hit hard, the soldiers sweeping in with ruthless efficiency, cutting down the already exhausted raiders.

For the first time since the battle began, the tide was turning.

Sico saw the moment the raiders realized it, saw their movements shift from aggression to uncertainty, to fear.

Their leader was still shouting, trying to rally them. "STAND AND FIGHT! DIAMOND CITY IS OURS!"

But it was already too late.

Hancock's gravelly voice came through the radio. "We got 'em on the run! We're pushing 'em back hard!"

Sico took a deep breath, adrenaline surging. This was it.

"ALL FORCES!" he bellowed. "PUSH FORWARD! DRIVE THEM OUT!"

The Minutemen roared in response, surging forward, pushing the raiders back. The battle was no longer a desperate defense—it was a full counterattack.

The battle had turned.

The Minutemen surged forward, rifles blazing, their shouts of determination rising over the chaos. What had once been a desperate defense had transformed into a relentless counterattack, and the raiders—so cocky, so assured of their victory—were now reeling.

Sico fired as he moved, his rifle kicking against his shoulder with every well-placed shot. A raider scrambled to reload his shotgun, his hands shaking as he fumbled with shells. Sico didn't give him the chance. A sharp crack echoed as his bullet found its mark, dropping the man instantly.

To his right, Preston let out a battle cry, rallying his squad. "Don't let 'em regroup! Keep pushing!"

The Minutemen obeyed without hesitation. They pressed the attack, methodically cutting through the raider ranks like a scythe through tall grass. The defenders had become the aggressors, and the shift sent shockwaves through the enemy ranks.

The raiders, once so frenzied and determined, were breaking.

At the center of it all, the raider leader—a hulking, scarred brute with a deep gash on his shoulder—tried to rally his men. Blood soaked his ragged armor, but he was still standing, still barking orders with wild desperation.

"STAND YOUR GROUND, YOU COWARDS!" he roared, swinging his machete overhead. "IF YOU RUN, I'LL KILL YOU MYSELF! PUSH BACK! DRIVE THEM INTO THE GROUND!"

But fear had already sunk its claws deep into his army.

Sico could see it clearly. Some raiders still fought, still obeyed, but many were hesitating, their once-frenzied attacks faltering. Their eyes darted around, seeking escape routes. Others had already made their choice, turning tail and sprinting away from the fight, dropping their weapons in the dirt.

A young raider, barely more than a teenager, shook his head wildly, stepping backward. "Screw this, man! This ain't worth it!"

Another shoved him, growling. "If we run, he'll kill us!"

The young raider shot a terrified glance toward the Minutemen's advancing forces—then bolted.

That was all it took.

Like a dam bursting, the fear spread. Raiders who had once fought tooth and nail now scrambled to escape, shoving past each other in a frantic bid to flee.

"NO! NO, YOU BASTARDS!" the raider leader bellowed, his fury shaking the air. He grabbed a fleeing man by the collar, yanking him back. "YOU STAND AND FIGHT, OR I'LL GUT YOU MYSELF!"

The raider twisted free, terror in his eyes. "Fuck you, man! I ain't dying for this!"

He ran—and the others followed.

Sico saw his opportunity. He raised his rifle, aiming directly at the raider leader.

"This is over," he muttered under his breath.

He squeezed the trigger.

The bullet found its mark, slamming into the leader's gut. The brute staggered, his machete slipping from his grip as he let out a strangled gasp. Blood seeped between his fingers as he clutched his wound, disbelief flickering across his face.

Still, the bastard didn't fall.

He looked up, locking eyes with Sico, rage and hatred burning in his gaze.

"You… you think this is the end?" he rasped.

Sico took a step closer, rifle steady. "It is for you."

The raider leader let out a bitter laugh, dark and hollow. "There's always more of us," he growled. "More than you can ever kill."

Sico didn't flinch. "Maybe. But you won't be around to see it."

He pulled the trigger again.

The shot rang out, and the raider leader collapsed to his knees, his body swaying unsteadily before finally crashing to the dirt.

The battle was over.

A heavy silence settled over the battlefield, broken only by the ragged breathing of the Minutemen and the distant echoes of retreating raiders.

Sico let out a slow breath, lowering his rifle. His hands were shaking, though whether from adrenaline or exhaustion, he couldn't tell.

Piper's voice crackled through the radio. "Sico? Is it done?"

Sico glanced around. The raiders were either dead, captured, or long gone.

"It's done."

A cheer erupted from the Minutemen, exhausted but victorious.

Hancock sauntered over, his coat billowing slightly as he surveyed the battlefield with a smirk. "Well, I'll be damned. You actually pulled it off."

Sico gave a tired chuckle. "Was there ever any doubt?"

Hancock shrugged. "Eh, maybe a little."

Preston clapped a hand on Sico's shoulder, his grin wide despite the grime and blood smeared across his face. "You did good, General."

Sico exhaled, the weight of the battle finally settling on him. He looked toward Diamond City's battered but still-standing gates.

Sico let out a slow breath, his rifle lowering as the weight of the battle settled on him. The field was littered with bodies—raiders and Minutemen alike. The acrid scent of gunpowder hung in the air, mingling with the coppery stench of blood. Despite the victory, there was no celebration in his heart, only the heavy reality of war pressing down on his shoulders.

He turned to Preston, his voice firm but tired. "I need a casualty report. Survivors, injured, and… the dead."

Preston's expression hardened, and he nodded. "I'll get on it."

Sico shifted his gaze to Sarah, one of the Minutemen medics, who was already tending to the wounded. "Sarah, help Preston with the count. I need accurate numbers."

Sarah wiped sweat and grime from her brow, her face pale from the horrors of battle. "Understood, General."

As they moved off, Sico took a moment to survey the battlefield. The ground was scorched, broken weapons and spent shell casings littered the dirt, and the bodies of raiders lay in heaps where they had fallen. A few Minutemen still stood guard, rifles at the ready, scanning the area for any lingering threats. Others moved among the fallen, checking for any signs of life, while the medics worked desperately to stabilize the wounded.

Hancock sauntered up beside him, his usual smirk replaced by something more subdued. "Hell of a fight, huh?"

Sico exhaled through his nose. "Yeah."

Hancock gave him a sidelong glance. "You did good, kid. But I know that look."

Sico turned his head slightly. "What look?"

"The one that says you're about to blame yourself for the dead."

Sico didn't respond. He just clenched his jaw and looked away.

Hancock sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You ain't a god, Sico. People die in war. That's just how it is. You can't save 'em all."

"I know that," Sico said quietly. "But it doesn't make it any easier."

Hancock shrugged. "No, it doesn't. But if you let it eat you up, it'll tear you apart faster than a pack of ferals. Trust me."

Sico glanced at him, seeing the weight of experience in the ghoul's eyes. He didn't argue.

Minutes passed like hours as Sico waited for the report. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the exhaustion was creeping in, settling into his bones. He rolled his shoulders, wincing at the stiffness. His uniform was torn, stained with blood—some of it his, most of it not.

Finally, Preston and Sarah returned, their faces grim.

Preston was the first to speak. "We finished the count."

Sico steeled himself. "Go on."

Preston swallowed, his eyes dark with the weight of what he was about to say. "We have 274 soldiers still standing."

Sarah continued, her voice quieter. "Thirty with light injuries—nothing that'll keep them out of action for long. But… twenty-seven have serious wounds. Some might not make it."

Sico's stomach twisted. "And the dead?"

Preston's face hardened. "Sixty-seven KIA."

Silence.

The number hit Sico like a hammer to the chest. He had known there would be losses—there always were—but sixty-seven? That was more than they had lost fighting the Institute.

He exhaled sharply, rubbing his forehead. "Damn it…"

Preston placed a hand on his shoulder, his grip firm but understanding. "We knew this would be bad. But we won. Diamond City still stands because of what we did here."

Sico nodded slowly, but the victory felt hollow.

His mind drifted to the faces of the fallen—soldiers he had fought beside, men and women who had believed in the cause. Some had laughed with him around the campfire, shared stories, dreams, fears. And now they were gone.

He clenched his fists.

"We're burying our dead with honor," he said firmly. "No one gets left behind."

Sarah nodded. "We've already started gathering the bodies."

Sico turned to Preston. "Make sure the wounded are stabilized. Get them back to our field hospital."

Preston gave a sharp nod. "On it."

Sico took a deep breath, steadying himself. There was still work to do. The battle might be over, but the war never truly ended. He just had to keep moving forward.

________________________________________________

• Name: Sico

• Stats :

S: 8,44

P: 7,44

E: 8,44

C: 8,44

I: 9,44

A: 7,45

L: 7

• Skills: advance Mechanic, Science, and Shooting skills, intermediate Medical, Hand to Hand Combat, Lockpicking, Hacking, Persuasion, and Drawing Skills

• Inventory: 53.280 caps, 10mm Pistol, 1500 10mm rounds, 22 mole rats meat, 17 mole rats teeth, 1 fragmentation grenade, 6 stimpak, 1 rad x, 6 fusion core, computer blueprint, modern TV blueprint, camera recorder blueprint, 1 set of combat armor, Automatic Assault Rifle, 1.500 5.56mm rounds, power armor T51 blueprint, Electric Motorcycle blueprint, T-45 power armor, Minigun, 1.000 5mm rounds, Cryolator, 200 cryo cell, Machine Gun Turret Mk1 blueprint, electric car blueprint, Kellogg gun, Righteous Authority, Ashmaker, Furious Power Fist, Full set combat armor blueprint, M240 7.62mm machine guns blueprint, Automatic Assault Rifle blueprint, and Humvee blueprint.

• Active Quest:-