• Ace Wild

    "Thing is... the game was rigged from the start." I hear a gunshot accompany a muzzle flash, and the man in the checkered suit with the gruff tribals who ambushed and accosted me were replaced by pitch-black darkness. I am empty, as empty as the stretch of road I occupied on my trek to New Vegas, tasked with delivering my last package as a Courier, on the lonesome road to Vegas. I honestly don't remember anything between the flash and waking up to the cool air of a humming ceiling fan flowing over my face.

    "Good, you're awake!" A man with a somewhat gruff, yet gentle voice, seems satisfied with my state of consciousness, and further inquires, through routine medical procedure for patients who have received some form of cranial trauma, wheth…

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