Dr. Brian Virgil had long since abandoned the notion of being understood. His former colleagues dismissed him, his so-called “allies” failed to grasp his brilliance. He had no use for them anymore. If the world refused to give him companionship, he would create it himself. Lightning flickered through the dimly lit lab, the air thick with the scent of metal and ozone. On the table before him lay his masterpiece—a young vault dweller, once warm and full of life, now cold and silent. She had been a fleeting encounter, a brief moment of kindness in his otherwise wretched existence. And then, cruelly, she was taken by the wasteland. But Virgil did not accept loss. He defied it.

The others stood frozen in the doorway—Nick, Piper, Danse, and the others. Watching, uncomprehending, horrified. “Virgil… what the hell is this?” Piper’s voice wavered.

“This,” Virgil said, his eyes gleaming, “is the answer.”

Metal plating glinted under harsh light, seamlessly fused with flesh. Beneath her skin, advanced synthetic components pulsed with dormant potential. She was not merely rebuilt—she was perfected. The physical part of her body was purely human. But what hold it all together was the metal plate in the middle of her abdomen.

“She was dead,” Nick muttered. “Virgil, this ain’t right.”

“She was dead,” Virgil corrected. “But now… now, she will never leave me.”

With a flick of a switch, electricity surged through the cables, snaking into her body. Sparks danced, machines whined, the air vibrated with raw energy. Then—movement. Eyes snapped open with a terrified expression of pain and incomprehension. A gasp. A sharp, mechanical inhale.

Virgil turned to his stunned audience, a look of madness in his eyes, grinning. “Behold… my greatest creation.”