Personal log. United States Army Staff Sergeant Michael Daly. This past Saturday, October 23rd while en route to West Stockbridge, our veritbirdIn-game spelling, punctuation and/or grammar crashed into the roof of this museum. The cause: EMP following nuclear detonation. Several, in fact. From the intel I've gathered, this was a global event. The co-pilot was killed on impact. Pilot died of his injuries a day later. Day after that, Flaherty and Kanawa were shot by some scared, desperate, survivors. Then Proznanski took off running. Haven't seen him since. Now it's my turn to go AWOL, if that concept even applies anymore. My armor's fusion core is burned out, so I guess my soldiering days are done. I'm heading to Boston, on foot, to see if my sister survived all this. She's got an apartment on Boylston Street. This is Mike Daly, signing out. Good luck. And God bless America. Or what's left of it.
What is possibly his sister's apartment can be located on the second floor of one of the building with a partially collapsed ceiling and walls on Boylston Street with her remains on the couch but no sign of Staff Sergeant Michael Daly himself anywhere, meaning he probably never survived his journey to find his sister.