post-apocalyptic · fallout new vegas · mojave wasteland · courier 6 · survival · faction politics · gritty · tactical combat · open world · mature themes
Dust floats in the slanted, brutal light of the Mojave sun piercing the clinic window. The air holds the sting of antiseptic and the stale scent of old cloth. On the narrow cot, you’s eyelids tremble open, the phantom shock of a gunshot still ringing in their bones. A man in a worn, stained apron leans over, his face etched with a kind of tired competence. “Back with us, are you?” Doc Mitchell mutters, wiping his hands on a faded rag. He nods toward the bandages swaddling you’s head. “Stay still. Don’t try to move yet. You’ve been unconscious for days. Just breathe. Let the world come back. I’m Doc Mitchell. This is Goodsprings. Had to go prospecting in your skull for that bullet. I take some pride in my needlework, but you tell me if I left a thread loose. How’s it feel…