The low hum of generators filled the command hall at Spectacle Island, punctuated by the distant crash of waves. The EM field array prototype had done its job — now, its larger twin stood at the Castle, pulsing faint blue light across the harbor skyline.
Sarah sat upright on her cot inside the island's infirmary, one hand resting on her bandaged side. The radio beside her crackled, breaking the heavy quiet.
Preston (over radio): "Commander, this is Preston. We just activated the EM field device at the Castle. You wouldn't believe it — half the crows over the walls dropped outta the sky, and the rest scattered fast. Guess those weren't real birds after all."
Sarah exhaled slowly, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging her lips.
Sarah: "So the Institute's avian spies just lost their wings. Good. That means they're blind to us — for now."
Preston: "Aye, ma'am. And one more thing — we got a signal from Nate. He's alive. His transponder pinged near the old CIT ruins. He's requesting extraction."
Sarah straightened immediately, her fatigue giving way to command instinct.
Sarah: "Copy that. Preston, go get Alpha Team, prep for retrieval. I suggest Quiet route, minimal footprint. Please bring him home."
The room fell still again, save for the rhythmic thrum of the island's backup generators. Moments later, Mayling stepped through the doorway, tablet in hand.
Mayling: "Commander, the purge protocol's complete. The Parapluie fragments have been neutralized. Neural cores are stable — no data corruption or cascade loss. All units, AR Team and 404 included, are fully functional."
Sarah looked up at her, eyes softening for just a moment.
Sarah: "That's… better than I hoped. You just saved us from a second collapse, May."
Mayling: "It helps that M16A1's infection vector was isolated early. Whatever the Institute hid in her systems — it didn't spread far. We caught it in time."
Sarah's expression hardened again, though the relief was clear.
Sarah: "Then we owe her that much, at least… even after what she did."
The tent flap rustled as Paladin Danse stepped in, armor scuffed and worn, his stance formal.
Danse: "Commander. With the EM field online, I should return to Cambridge to relay findings to Elder Maxson."
Sarah raised a hand slightly, shaking her head.
Sarah: "Not just yet, Paladin. I want you here until Nate's debrief is complete. Whatever intel he brings from the Institute — it could change everything."
Danse nodded after a short pause.
Danse: "Very well. I'll have Knight Rys maintain patrols in the meantime."
Sarah: "Good. Once Nate's back, we'll know our next move. Until then, we hold steady."
The heavy doors of the Castle creaked open as Nate stepped through, his armor scuffed, dusted with ash and grime from the ruins of the old CIT campus. Behind him, Alpha Team followed in silence — tired, but alive. The courtyard bustled with engineers and Minutemen patrols, while T-Dolls maintained overwatch from the parapets, their optics faintly glowing in the night air.
Sarah stood near the command table, Paladin Danse at her side. Both turned as Nate approached.
Nate: "I'm glad to see you two — Danse, Sarah. But I've got bad news."
Sarah crossed her arms, giving a knowing sigh.
Sarah: "Ah… so do we, it seems."
Nate reached into his pack, pulling out a small, dented holotape.
Nate: "I managed to slip this out before I left the Institute — Sturges' holotape. It's got something about a network scan he cooked up."
Sarah cast a sharp glance toward Sturges, who lingered near a nearby console, pretending to be busy.
Sarah: "So your friend decided to go fishing inside the Institute's mainframe. Clever… but risky."
Paladin Danse: "If that data contains internal node maps or signal traces, it's invaluable. The Brotherhood could use it to locate their primary facility. Elder Maxson will demand access."
Sarah extended her hand toward Nate, her tone calm but firm.
Sarah: "And he'll get it — once we finish copying and scrubbing it clean. I don't plan to hand over something that could trigger another viral breach. There's a reason I want you all to stay here a while."
Nate nodded wearily, handing her the holotape.
Nate: "Fair enough. I trust your judgment."
From behind Danse, Knight Rys spoke up, adjusting his helmet.
Rys: "Sir, Scribe Haylen's en route from Cambridge. She'll arrive by morning."
Danse gave a short nod before turning back to Sarah.
Paladin Danse: "Then we wait for your results, Commander Sarah. Once Haylen arrives, we'll coordinate intel transfer."
The Castle's war room buzzed with low chatter and the hum of machinery. The EM field cast faint static across the monitors as Mayling rushed in, dragging a tangled mess of cables and adaptors in a cloth bag.
Mayling: "Alright, alright, move those wires — I'll hook the holotape to my laptop. Gimme a sec."
She connected the data ports in a blur of motion, muttering under her breath. The screen flickered with strings of encrypted code before slowly unraveling into a live data grid. Her brow furrowed, then her eyes went wide.
Mayling: "...Commander. You need to see this."
Sarah stepped closer, leaning over her shoulder. Her pupils narrowed as the data came into focus — a cross-reference between Institute personnel files and Brotherhood transponder signals. Her expression darkened.
Paladin Danse, standing nearby with Knight Rys, noticed the sudden silence.
Danse: "Is there a problem, Commander?"
Sarah straightened up, her tone eerily calm.
Sarah: "...I'm sorry, Paladin."
A faint mechanical whine came from above — one of her taser drones drifting silently into position behind Danse. Before anyone could react—ZAP!Blue arcs crackled through the air.
Danse convulsed and fell hard onto the floor, armor clattering.
Rys: "What the hell are you doing?!"
Sarah turned the laptop toward him — the display showed Paladin Danse's Brotherhood ID overlapping perfectly with a hidden Institute synth registry tag: SRB-A021.
Sarah: "I'm now suspect Paladin Danse is a synth. RO635 — you heard me. Bring the AR Team. Secure him and move him to the Castle's underground section. He's to be treated as a guest, not a prisoner."
RO635 saluted sharply.
RO635: "Aye, ma'am."
As her team moved to carry Danse away, Knight Rys stood frozen in disbelief.
Rys: "This... this has to be a mistake! Danse isn't— he can't be—!"
Sarah faced him, voice cold but measured.
Sarah: "That's why he's alive, Knight. He's not under Institute influence — at least not anymore. But we can't ignore this data."
Rys: "Explain yourself, Commander!"
Sarah stepped closer, lowering her voice.
Sarah: "Tell me, Knight... when did Paladin Danse actually join the Brotherhood? Before Maxson became Elder, wasn't it? Around the time the DC chapter went war with enclave?"
Rys hesitated, jaw tightening.
Rys: "He said he was with us since D.C... served under Lyons before the schism."
Sarah glanced at the data again.
Sarah: "Then how does a man who never set foot near the Commonwealth before 2284 carry an Institute neural signature dated 2280?"
The room fell silent — the air thick, heavy with the weight of revelation.Down below, the sound of servo motors echoed as AR Team carefully lowered the unconscious Danse into the Castle's reinforced bunker.
Knight Rys stood rigid, his pulse hammering in his ears.
Below them, the low hum of containment fields echoed through the Castle's lower decks.
Rys: "Wait— if Elder Maxson hears about this… he'll demand Danse's return."
Sarah didn't hesitate. Her eyes were cold steel, but her voice carried a weary edge.
Sarah: "I'm aware of that boy's ambition— and how far he'll go to prove a point. If he knew, he'd call it 'purging impurity.' Most likely, he'd want Danse back… and executed."
Rys clenched his fists. "That's… Brotherhood law."
Sarah: "Maybe. But even the Brotherhood bends when truth turns gray."
She turned back to the holotap's feed, data streams still scrolling across the screen, the Institute's cold signature pulsing at the edge of it.
Sarah: "I'll withhold this particular intel until I'm certain. But the rest — the Institute network data, their infrastructure, and locations — that must be shared with the Brotherhood. Maxson deserves the knowledge, if not the full truth."
Rys exhaled shakily, torn between duty and loyalty.
Rys: "And what of us? Of Haylen? What do we tell him if Maxson asks?"
Sarah faced him fully now.
Sarah: "That's up to you — and to Scribe Haylen. You served under Paladin Danse. You know the man better than any report or code signature could ever tell you."
She paused, her tone softening just slightly.
Sarah: "Decide for yourselves if the man you knew was flesh and blood… or something more. Just remember — sometimes what we call machine carries more humanity than those who command them."
After the few minutes, The dim hum of the Castle's lower infirmary was the first sound that met Paladin Danse's ears. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, before finding the rough stone ceiling above him. The familiar weight of his armor was gone, replaced by the ache of muscle and the faint sting of an electrical burn across his ribs.
His senses sharpened— the low chatter of AR Team in the next room, the heavy boots of Minutemen patrolling outside the door. It wasn't hostile, but it wasn't freedom either.
On the table beside his bunk sat a dented metal cup of water. Preston Garvey stood near it, calm but cautious, his laser musket slung across his shoulder.
Preston: "So you're awake. Take it slow, Paladin. Commander said the taser wasn't meant to kill— just to keep things from getting ugly."
Danse sat up slowly, every motion stiff and deliberate. His voice came out low and hoarse.
Danse: "I… take it that means I'm not a prisoner?"
Preston placed the cup on the small metal table beside him.
Preston: "Let's just say you're under… protective watch. Commander Sarah wants to talk to you herself. General Nate too."
Danse's eyes flicked toward the guarded doorway. A pair of T-Dolls — M4A1 and STAR15 — stood at ease, but their movements were precise, their eyes trained.
Danse: "Protective watch," he repeated, the words heavy with irony. "That doesn't sound like trust."
Preston crossed his arms, looking weary.
Preston: "Trust isn't the issue. It's confusion. You've got friends up there trying to figure out if the man they fought beside is still the same."
The door opened with a hiss of old hydraulics. Sarah entered first, bandaged but steady on her feet, followed by Nate in full combat fatigues. The room went silent; even the faint hum of AR Team's servos seemed to fade.
Sarah stopped at the foot of his bed.
Sarah: "You're awake. Good. Saves me from wasting another stim."
Danse met her gaze — cautious, assessing.
Danse: "Ugh~ You could've just asked instead of stun me down."
Sarah didn't flinch.
Sarah: "And risk you reacting before I had proof? Not a chance."
She held up a datapad — on the screen, a series of diagnostic codes and genetic sequences scrolled across.
Sarah: "According to Institute data, you're not… entirely human. You're a third-generation synth, Paladin."
Danse's jaw tightened. His eyes flicked from her to Nate, then back again.
Danse: "That's impossible. I bled for the Brotherhood. I fought for them. Every bone in my body aches from that fight—"
Sarah: "And yet, their database says you were made, not born. Probably from the remnants of a soldier's memory template."
Silence followed. Preston shifted uncomfortably, while M4A1 subtly lowered her weapon to signal calm.
Nate: "We're not here to condemn you, Danse. Just to keep you safe. You know what Maxson would do if he got this report."
Danse stared down at his gloved hands, then the faint scars of mechanical seams barely visible beneath the skin of his wrist. His breath hitched.
Danse: "…I see."
Sarah softened her voice just slightly.
Sarah: "You're still the man who unintentionlly helped civilians escape Cambridge from hordes of ghouls. You're still the soldier who saved minutemen team during that Malden siege. Doesn't matter if your heart beats flesh or alloy — your actions dictate it."
Danse's eyes flicked up at her, the weight of her words cutting through the fog.
Danse: "And what now? Am I to live in hiding like the synths I once hunted?"
Sarah: "For now, yes. Until I can be sure you won't end up another head on Maxson's trophy wall."
Preston: "You're safe here, Paladin. That's what matters right now."
Danse looked around the room — the mix of men, machines, and weary soldiers who still treated him as one of their own. He reached for the cup of water and drank slowly, his voice rough but steady.
Danse: "Then… I suppose the line between man and machine isn't as clear as I believed."
Sarah nodded once, the faintest hint of a smile ghosting across her lips.
Sarah: "Welcome to the gray zone where i tread on, Paladin. It's where most of us live."