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Sico walked slowly back toward HQ, his mind already shifting to the next set of challenges. Expansion would ripple outward. Training would take time. Security would need adjustment. Success would draw attention from factions less inclined toward cooperation.
The night did not linger.
It rarely did in Sanctuary that not because there was no darkness, but because dawn was always earned here. The settlement woke the way it slept: gradually, deliberately, with purpose rather than panic.
By the time the first thin band of light crept over the ruined rooftops and patched solar arrays, the Administrative Building was already alive.
It was earlier than most official mornings, and that alone told Sico everything he needed to know.
He stood just outside the main doors for a moment, watching the movement. People clustered in small groups near the entrance, some speaking quietly, others rehearsing words under their breath, others simply standing still with hands clasped tight as if afraid motion itself might disqualify them. A few wore clothes too clean for scavvers but too worn for merchants.
Others carried notebooks salvaged from somewhere precious, pages already filled with cramped writing. One man adjusted the strap of a battered satchel again and again, like a ritual to steady himself.
These were not wanderers.
They were hopefuls.
Sico stepped inside.
The Administrative Building no longer felt like the same place it had been a year ago. What had once been a skeletal structure patched together out of necessity had grown into something resembling an institution that not cold, not distant, but organized. Purposeful. The walls were lined with notice boards covered in neatly arranged postings. Schedules. Recruitment notices. Training bulletins. A large hand-painted sign near the central hall read:
PHARMACEUTICAL DIVISION – EXPANSION INTAKE
REPORT TO DESK C
Desk C was already overwhelmed.
Magnolia stood nearby, arms folded loosely as she observed the flow with sharp, calculating eyes. She looked rested but alert, the way she always did when something mattered. Two clerks worked the desk, registering names, checking basic qualifications, issuing numbered tokens that applicants clutched like lifelines.
When she spotted Sico, she pushed off the wall and walked toward him.
"You see this?" she said quietly, gesturing with her chin toward the crowd.
"I do," Sico replied.
"I posted the notice less than twelve hours ago."
"And?"
"We've already exceeded the projected intake by forty percent."
Sico exhaled slowly that not in frustration, but in recognition. "People have been waiting for a door like this."
Magnolia nodded. "Curie's reputation precedes her. Competence attracts competence."
"And desperation," Sico added.
"Yes," Magnolia said. "Which is why we're being careful."
They moved together toward the interior offices that had been converted overnight into interview rooms. Temporary partitions divided the space, each marked with hand-lettered signs: Initial Screening, Technical Aptitude, Ethics & Conduct, Security Review.
It was not elegant.
It was effective.
"How many interviewers?" Sico asked.
"Eight teams," Magnolia replied. "Pulled from medical, engineering, and logistics. All briefed personally."
"And Curie?"
"She sent her criteria before sunrise," Magnolia said, producing a folded document from her coat pocket. "Very thorough. Borderline intimidating."
Sico smiled faintly. "That sounds like her."
They paused near one of the partitions. Inside, a woman with streaks of gray in her hair leaned forward as she spoke earnestly to an interviewer, hands moving as she explained something technical, eyes bright with the relief of being understood.
"Who are we prioritizing?" Sico asked quietly.
"Foundational knowledge first," Magnolia said. "Chemistry, biology, process control. But we're not dismissing raw aptitude. Some of these people have learned more from survival than any pre-war curriculum could teach."
Sico nodded. "Curie will know how to shape that."
"She already does," Magnolia said. "She requested mentorship pairings for anyone without formal training."
"That's wise," Sico said.
Magnolia glanced at him sideways. "You sound relieved."
"I am," he admitted. "This is the right problem to have."
They moved deeper into the building. The noise grew softer here, replaced by low conversations, the scratch of pencils on paper, the occasional nervous laugh. A runner passed them carrying a stack of forms so high it nearly obscured his vision.
"Security concerns?" Sico asked.
Magnolia's expression sharpened. "Nothing overt. A few individuals flagged for further review. No immediate threats."
"Good," Sico said. "Keep it that way."
"I intend to," she replied.
They stopped near a glass-fronted office that overlooked the main hall. Inside, Sico could see several interview teams working in coordinated rhythm, each following the same structure but adapting to the person in front of them. No one was rushed. No one was dismissed without explanation.
This mattered.
"Curie asked for transparency," Magnolia said softly, following his gaze. "She said people perform better when they understand why decisions are made."
"She's right," Sico said.
Magnolia hesitated, then said, "There is something else."
Sico turned to her. "Go on."
"This many people," she said. "This much interest. Word is already spreading beyond Sanctuary."
"It always does," Sico replied.
"Yes," Magnolia said. "But this is different. This isn't rumor. It's opportunity."
Sico considered that. "Opportunity draws attention."
"And attention draws pressure," Magnolia finished.
He met her eyes. "We'll handle it."
She nodded, trusting that answer even if she didn't entirely like it.
Sico left her there and continued on alone, moving through the building not as a director inspecting operations, but as someone taking the temperature of a living system.
He stopped briefly at one interview room where a young man that barely more than a boy sat hunched in his chair, hands clasped tightly between his knees. The interviewer, a senior medic, spoke gently, coaxing answers without condescension.
Sico did not interrupt, but when the young man glanced up and met his eyes through the glass, something shifted in his expression with not fear, not awe, but resolve.
That, Sico thought, was what this place did best.
It gave people something to stand up for.
By mid-morning, the building was operating at full capacity. Intake clerks rotated shifts to avoid burnout. Magnolia coordinated with logistics to ensure water, food, and rest areas were available for applicants who waited hours for their turn. Security remained present but unobtrusive, blending into the flow rather than looming over it.
Sico retreated briefly to his office to review updates.
Curie's framework had already been circulated among department heads. Training schedules were being drafted. Space allocation within the lab complex was under review, with temporary annexes proposed to accommodate new staff without disrupting existing production lines.
Everything was moving.
He allowed himself a rare moment of satisfaction.
Not pride.
Satisfaction.
There was a difference.
By early afternoon, Curie herself arrived at the Administrative Building.
She did not make an entrance.
She never did.
She slipped through the side door, coat neatly buttoned, datapad tucked under her arm, eyes already scanning the room with analytical curiosity. She paused just inside, taking in the scale of the operation, the quiet intensity of the applicants, the smooth coordination of the staff.
Sico noticed the way her shoulders lifted slightly as she breathed in.
Not stress.
Relief.
He approached her without ceremony.
"You should have warned me," she said softly, though there was no real complaint in her tone.
"I did," Sico replied. "Yesterday."
She smiled faintly. "You understated."
They stood together for a moment, observing.
"This is… more than I anticipated," Curie said. "In a positive sense."
"You asked for expansion," Sico said. "This is what that looks like."
She nodded. "I see now."
They moved toward one of the observation points overlooking the interview rooms. Curie leaned lightly against the railing, watching as candidates moved through the process, some emerging with cautious smiles, others with thoughtful expressions that suggested learning rather than rejection.
"You've built something people trust," she said quietly.
Sico glanced at her. "So have you."
She shook her head slightly. "Trust is fragile. It must be justified continuously."
"Then we'll keep justifying it," he said.
Curie turned her attention to a nearby interview room where a middle-aged woman with calloused hands explained her experience maintaining filtration systems in an old vault. Curie's eyes lit with interest.
"That one," she murmured. "She understands systems thinking."
Sico smiled. "You're already recruiting."
Curie did not deny it.
"I would like to speak with the interview teams," she said. "Briefly."
"Of course," Sico replied. "They'll appreciate it."
She stepped forward, and the effect was immediate.
Not reverence.
Recognition.
People straightened subtly. Interviewers nodded in greeting. Applicants whispered to one another, curiosity rippling through the waiting area as word spread that Doctor Curie herself was present.
She addressed the teams calmly, efficiently, emphasizing mentorship, patience, and ethical responsibility. She reminded them that this was not merely about increasing output, but about safeguarding lives as both those who would receive the medicine and those who would produce it.
Her voice carried without rising.
When she finished, there was no applause.
There didn't need to be.
The building felt steadier afterward, as if a central pillar had been quietly reinforced.
Sico watched her return to his side.
"Well?" he asked.
She considered. "This will work," she said. "If we are careful."
"We will be," he replied.
She nodded, then hesitated. "There is one concern."
Sico waited.
"Scaling production requires not only people, but trust between them," she said. "Mistakes will happen. Errors. Misjudgments."
"They always do," Sico said.
"I will need authority to halt production if safety is compromised," Curie said. "Even under pressure."
"You already have it," Sico replied without hesitation.
She searched his face, then inclined her head slightly. "Thank you."
The day wore on.
By late afternoon, the first wave of interviews concluded. Some candidates were offered provisional placements. Others were redirected to different departments better suited to their skills. A few were turned away, but never dismissed without explanation or guidance.
Magnolia compiled preliminary numbers with quiet satisfaction.
"We're on track," she reported to Sico. "If anything, ahead."
"Good," he said. "But don't rush it."
"I won't," she replied. "Neither will Curie."
As the sun dipped toward the horizon once more, the Administrative Building began to empty. Applicants drifted out in small groups, some animated, others contemplative. Staff rotated out, exhausted but energized.
Curie prepared to return to the lab.
"I will begin onboarding the first group tomorrow," she said. "Training will be incremental."
"Take your time," Sico said. "The pressure will be there regardless."
She smiled faintly. "You are learning to sound like me."
"Careful," he said. "I might take that as a compliment."
She laughed softly which is rare, unguarded sound.
As she left, Sico remained behind for a while, standing in the now-quiet hall.
The boards were already being updated for the next intake cycle.
The boards were still warm from fresh ink when the lights finally dimmed.
Sanctuary did not celebrate the end of that day. It absorbed it.
People went home quieter than usual, conversations low and thoughtful, the kind that carried weight but not fear. The Administrative Building stood for a while longer with its windows glowing, clerks finishing tallies, guards rotating shifts, Magnolia making one last circuit before allowing herself to leave.
Sico stayed until the last update was logged.
Only then did he step outside and let the night close around him.
Morning came quickly.
Too quickly.
But it always did.
The next day dawned with a clarity that felt deliberate, the sky clean and pale, clouds stretched thin like brushed linen. Sanctuary woke with the confidence of something that knew exactly what it was about to do.
In front of the pharmaceutical lab, people had already gathered.
Not a crowd.
A line.
That distinction mattered.
They stood in loose formation along the reinforced walkway, some straight-backed and composed, others shifting their weight, rolling shoulders, clasping hands behind their backs the way soldiers did before inspection. No one pushed. No one spoke loudly. There was an unspoken understanding among them that they were standing on the edge of something fragile and important.
This was the first group.
The ones Curie had selected personally from the intake lists late into the night. The ones whose names she had circled twice. The ones she believed could be shaped not just into technicians, but into stewards.
Inside the lab, Curie adjusted the cuffs of her coat and glanced once more at the roster displayed on her terminal.
Twelve names.
A manageable number.
Enough to test the system without overwhelming it.
Enough to see where it bent.
Her team was already assembled behind her. Senior technicians. Process supervisors. Two medics on temporary assignment. Each one had been briefed not just on procedures, but on expectations.
This was not a factory floor.
This was a responsibility.
Curie stepped toward the doors just as the security officer on duty signaled readiness.
She paused.
Just for a breath.
Not nerves.
Focus.
Then the doors slid open.
The sound alone with the soft, controlled hiss of pneumatic seals that seemed to still the line outside. Heads lifted. Spines straightened. Conversations died before they could begin.
Curie stepped out into the morning light.
She did not stand on a platform.
She did not raise her voice.
She simply stood where everyone could see her.
"Good morning," she said.
Twelve people responded, almost in unison. "Good morning, Doctor."
She let the moment settle.
"You are here because you were selected," Curie continued. "Not because you asked. Not because you waited the longest. Not because you were the loudest or the most desperate."
Her gaze moved across them slowly, deliberately.
"You are here because you demonstrated capability, judgment, and the capacity to learn without arrogance."
A few shoulders eased at that.
"This work," she said, "is not about production alone. It is about trust. Every vial that leaves this facility carries with it the assumption that we have done our work correctly. That we have not rushed. That we have not compromised."
She paused again.
"If that responsibility frightens you," she added calmly, "that is appropriate."
No one laughed.
No one shifted.
Good, Curie thought.
"You will be trained," she said. "Slowly. Thoroughly. You will make mistakes. That is expected. What is not acceptable is concealment."
She turned slightly and gestured toward the open doors behind her.
"Inside this building, honesty is not a virtue. It is a requirement."
She met their eyes again.
"If you cannot agree to that, you may step away now. There will be no penalty."
No one moved.
Curie inclined her head once.
"Then let us begin."
The line followed her inside.
Across Sanctuary, the Administrative Building was alive again.
If anything, it was busier than the day before.
Sico stood near the central hall, hands clasped loosely behind his back, watching the second wave of recruits filter in. This group was larger. Less refined. A broader net cast deliberately.
These were not all lab candidates.
Some would go to logistics. Some to supply chain oversight. Some to quality control. Some would wash out entirely.
That was expected.
Magnolia stood beside him, tablet in hand, issuing quiet instructions to runners as they passed.
"They're arriving earlier today," she said.
"They learned," Sico replied.
"Yes," Magnolia said. "Or they told others."
Sico watched as a man with oil-stained hands checked his token number twice before approaching Desk C, eyes sharp with both hope and caution.
"Any issues overnight?" Sico asked.
"Nothing worth waking you for," Magnolia said. "A few factions asking questions. Indirectly."
Sico nodded. "And?"
"And we gave them nothing," she replied.
"Good."
They moved through the building together, stopping briefly at intake stations, observing the rhythm that had already begun to form. Clerks worked efficiently, no longer overwhelmed but alert. Interviewers rotated seamlessly. Water was distributed without being asked for.
This was the difference between reaction and preparation.
Sico stepped into one of the interview rooms quietly, taking a seat in the corner where he would not disrupt the process. The candidate was a woman with sharp eyes and a voice steady despite her nerves that explaining her experience salvaging medical equipment from a collapsed clinic.
The interviewer nodded, asked a precise question.
The woman answered thoughtfully, pausing when she didn't know something instead of guessing.
Sico approved of that.
When the interview ended, the woman stood, surprised to realize he had been there the whole time. Their eyes met briefly.
He nodded once.
That was all.
She left with her shoulders a little straighter.
Magnolia waited for him outside.
"You didn't say anything," she observed.
"I didn't need to," Sico replied.
They moved on.
Back at the lab, the first training session had begun.
Curie stood at the head of a long, reinforced table, the recruits seated on one side, notebooks open, eyes forward. Behind her, a glass board displayed a simple diagram.
Not chemical equations.
Not yet.
Structure.
"This facility operates on three principles," Curie said, tapping the board lightly with a stylus. "Containment. Redundancy. Accountability."
She turned.
"Containment ensures that mistakes do not spread. Redundancy ensures that no single failure is catastrophic. Accountability ensures that when something goes wrong, we learn rather than hide."
She let that sink in.
"You will learn processes," she continued. "But before that, you must understand why those processes exist."
A hand rose cautiously.
Curie nodded. "Yes."
A young man cleared his throat. "Doctor… how often do things go wrong?"
Curie did not hesitate.
"Every day," she said.
A ripple moved through the room.
She allowed herself a small smile. "The difference is whether we notice in time."
That settled them.
The session continued.
By midday, Sanctuary was running two parallel futures.
At the lab, Curie and her team guided the first group through orientation, safety protocols, and controlled observation of active production lines. No one touched anything yet. They watched. They listened. They asked questions.
Good questions.
At the Administrative Building, Sico oversaw the second wave with Magnolia, adjusting intake criteria slightly as patterns emerged. They noticed where applicants struggled. Where interviewers needed rest. Where expectations required clarification.
They adapted.
By afternoon, the sun hung high and bright, casting clean shadows across the settlement.
Sico stood at an upper window in the Administrative Building, looking out toward the hospital complex. From here, he could just see the lab's exterior, sunlight glinting off reinforced glass.
The first group would be inside now, absorbing the weight of what they had stepped into.
The second group was still forming.
Both mattered.
Magnolia joined him quietly.
"You know," she said, "this is the part most leaders avoid."
Sico glanced at her. "Which part?"
"The middle," she replied. "The part where vision turns into process. Where ideals meet people."
Sico considered that. "It's the only part that actually matters."
She smiled faintly. "You're not wrong."
They stood there for a moment, watching Sanctuary move.
People walked between buildings with purpose. Guards adjusted routes subtly. A caravan rolled in at the southern gate, slowed, and was processed without incident.
Everything looked… normal.
That was the victory.
Late afternoon brought the first evaluations.
Curie reviewed notes quietly with her senior staff while the recruits took a short break. She marked observations carefully. Not grades.
Tendencies.
This one rushed when confident. That one hesitated too long. Another asked for confirmation even when correct.
All fixable.
One of her technicians glanced at her. "They're good."
"They're willing," Curie replied. "That is more important."
Outside, the recruits spoke softly among themselves, sharing impressions, nerves giving way to cautious excitement.
Inside, the lab continued to hum.
At the Administrative Building, the second wave began to thin.
Some left with provisional assignments. Others with redirection notices. A few with polite refusals and referrals elsewhere.
No one left empty-handed.
Sico insisted on that.
As the sun dipped toward evening again, Magnolia handed him the latest numbers.
"We've identified enough candidates to sustain expansion for the next two cycles," she said. "Assuming training holds."
"It will," Sico said. "Curie won't allow otherwise."
Magnolia nodded. "Security will need adjustment."
"I know," Sico replied. "We'll do it quietly."
She hesitated. "This is going to change how people see us."
Sico looked out across the settlement.
"It already has," he said.
As the night finally settled again, Sanctuary did not slow.
It steadied.
In the lab, Curie dismissed the first group with clear instructions and rest mandates she would enforce personally if necessary. In the Administrative Building, Sico signed off on the day's reports and authorized preparations for the last intake.
The night folded itself over Sanctuary without ceremony.
Lights dimmed, not all at once, but in thoughtful stages. The lab reduced to essential illumination. The Administrative Building sealed its records and locked its doors with practiced care. Guards rotated, routes adjusted, radios murmuring low confirmations that blended into the background hum of a place that no longer slept out of fear, but out of discipline.
Sico left last.
Again.
He stepped into the cool air and paused, not because he was tired, but because he had learned that moments like this mattered. The stillness after motion. The silence after decisions. Sanctuary looked different at night now. Not darker that just quieter. Purposeful even in rest.
Tomorrow would not be easier.
But it would be clearer.
Morning arrived with resolve.
Not urgency. Not alarm.
Resolve.
The second day of training began before the sun fully cleared the horizon. In front of the pharmaceutical lab, the reinforced walkway stood empty for a brief window of time, as if holding its breath.
Inside, Curie was already awake.
She had been awake long before dawn, reviewing notes from the first group's orientation. Not corrections on observations. Patterns. Small indicators that only mattered if you paid attention early. She sat at her workstation, datapad glowing softly, stylus moving in precise, economical strokes.
The first group would return today, not for hands-on work yet, but for deeper procedural immersion. Clean-room theory. Chain-of-custody discipline. Failure modeling.
They would not like all of it.
That was acceptable.
A soft chime sounded at the edge of her awareness. An internal message.
FROM: PRESIDENT SICO
SUBJECT: SECOND GROUP TRANSFER
Curie opened it.
Ten recruits. Selected. Vetted. En route this morning. Arrival within the hour.
She leaned back slightly, exhaled through her nose.
Ten.
A deliberate number.
Enough to double pressure without overwhelming structure.
She sent a brief acknowledgment.
Received. Prep underway.
Then she stood and moved through the lab.
Her team was already adjusting. Additional benches cleared. Observation lanes marked. Safety officers reassigned. The lab did not scramble, it rebalanced.
That, Curie thought, was the difference between growth and strain.
Outside, Sanctuary stirred.
At the Administrative Building, Sico was already in motion. The building felt different today that not louder, but denser. The third and final intake cycle loomed, and everyone knew it.
This was the last chance.
Not forever.
But for now.
The last group of recruits waited beyond the doors, sixteen of them this time. More than Curie would take immediately, but not more than Sanctuary could support. Sico had made the decision late the previous night, after reviewing Magnolia's compiled data.
The third group was… different.
Not weaker.
Just broader.
More varied backgrounds. Less uniformity in experience. Some carried deep technical knowledge without formal structure. Others carried structure without context. A few carried neither, but possessed sharp instincts and an ability to listen.
Sico wanted all of them evaluated.
Not for the lab immediately, but for the future it represented.
Magnolia joined him near the intake desks, tablet already populated with profiles.
"Sixteen confirmed," she said quietly. "All present."
"Good," Sico replied.
"They know this is the last group," Magnolia added.
"I know."
"It's making them careful," she said.
"That's not a bad thing," he replied.
They watched as the doors opened and the third group filtered in. No rush. No noise. Just sixteen people stepping into a space that had already begun to define their expectations.
Sico addressed them briefly.
Not a speech.
Just clarity.
"You are here because you were selected," he said, voice carrying without force. "Not because we needed numbers. Not because you asked nicely. Because you demonstrated something we believe can be built upon."
He let his gaze pass over them once.
"This is the final intake for this expansion cycle," he continued. "That does not make you more important. It makes you more visible."
A few expressions shifted at that.
"You will be evaluated honestly," Sico said. "You will be redirected if appropriate. You will not be wasted."
He nodded once.
"Proceed."
The process began.
Across Sanctuary, movement converged.
Ten figures walked together toward the pharmaceutical lab, escorted not by guards, but by a logistics coordinator who explained the route, the building's layout, and what would happen next. It was not ceremonial.
It was respectful.
They walked with purpose, eyes drawn inevitably to the lab's reinforced exterior. Some had seen it before. Others had only heard stories.
None of them spoke much.
When they reached the entrance, Curie was already waiting.
Not at the doors.
Just inside.
The first group was assembled off to one side, observing quietly. Their presence was intentional that not as pressure, but as continuity.
Curie stepped forward as the doors sealed behind the second group.
"Welcome," she said simply.
Ten voices responded, uneven but sincere.
She nodded.
"You were sent here because Director Sico believes you can contribute to this work," Curie continued. "I agreed."
She did not soften that.
Agreement mattered.
"You will train alongside the first group," she said. "Not beneath them. Not above them. Together."
A few glances passed between the two groups. Curiosity. Assessment.
Curie noticed.
"That is deliberate," she added. "This lab does not function in isolation. Neither will you."
She gestured for them to follow.
The orientation resumed, now layered.
The first group revisited concepts, reinforcing their understanding by listening again. The second group absorbed it for the first time. Questions emerged from both that different, complementary.
Curie allowed it.
She encouraged it.
By mid-morning, the lab hummed with quiet intensity.
No one touched live product.
Not yet.
But they were close enough now to feel the gravity of it.
Back at the Administrative Building, Sico worked through the third intake with methodical patience.
He sat in on more interviews today. Not because he needed to, but because he wanted to see how the system handled complexity.
One candidate spoke too confidently, brushing past ethical hypotheticals as inconveniences. Sico made a note.
Another admitted ignorance without hesitation, then explained how she learned quickly once she understood context. He made a different note.
Magnolia watched him from across the room.
"You're quieter today," she observed during a brief pause.
"I'm listening," Sico replied.
"That's usually when you decide things," she said.
"Yes."
The third group interviews stretched into the afternoon.
Sixteen people.
Sixteen stories.
Some would never see the inside of the lab. Others would, tomorrow.
That was already decided.
Sico had reviewed the preliminary evaluations earlier. He trusted them. He also trusted Curie.
By late afternoon, the list was finalized.
All sixteen would be sent to the pharmaceutical lab the following morning.
Not at once.
In phases.
Curie would decide how to break them down. Sico authorized the transfer and sent the message himself.
Sixteen recruits approved. Third group. Arrival tomorrow. Your discretion on integration.
The reply came quickly.
Understood. Thank you for the warning.
He smiled faintly.
That was Curie.
As the sun dipped again, the second group completed their first full day in the lab.
Curie dismissed them with the same firmness she had shown the first group.
"Rest," she said. "Eat. Hydrate. Review your notes."
She looked at them pointedly.
"You will not impress me by arriving exhausted."
A few smiles flickered.
They left in orderly fashion, first and second group mingling quietly now, barriers already thinning.
Curie remained behind with her team.
"Ten more tomorrow," one technician said. "Sixteen after that."
"Yes," Curie replied.
"That's… a lot," another observed.
"It is," Curie said. "Which is why we will not rush."
She closed her datapad.
"We will expand capacity by process, not by force," she continued. "If that means slowing intake, we do so. If that means reassigning, we do so."
No one argued.
They trusted her.
That night, Sanctuary steadied again.
Not triumphant.
Not anxious.
Steady.
Sico walked the perimeter once before retiring, checking in with security, logistics, medics. No crises. No alarms.
Just momentum.
He stopped near the edge of the settlement and looked back toward the lab complex. Lights glowed within that controlled, contained. Tomorrow, sixteen more people would step into that light. And Curie would decide who they became.
______________________________________________
• 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:-