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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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Outside, dawn slowly crawled over Far Harbor beneath endless rain and drifting Fog while workers reinforced barricades, mechanics repaired battle damage, and exhausted soldiers cleaned weapons beside floodlights that never seemed to turn off anymore.
Outside, dawn slowly crawled over Far Harbor beneath endless rain and drifting Fog while workers reinforced barricades, mechanics repaired battle damage, and exhausted soldiers cleaned weapons beside floodlights that never seemed to turn off anymore.
The settlement looked like it had forgotten how to rest.
Hammer strikes echoed across the harbor before sunrise fully arrived. Welders threw showers of sparks into the wet gray morning while trench crews carried soaked timber toward the western perimeter beneath armed escort. Even the docks moved differently now.
Faster.
Sharper.
Like everyone expected gunfire to erupt from the Fog at any moment.
Inside the command hall, the lantern light had dimmed lower as exhaustion finally began catching up with people. Coffee cups sat abandoned across the war table beside damp maps, casualty reports, and half-finished defensive sketches covered in hurried notes.
Ward rubbed one hand over tired eyes while reviewing patrol schedules.
"We don't have enough heavy support for all these perimeter expansions."
Avery leaned over another map nearby.
"No kidding."
She pointed toward the southern approaches outside the harbor.
"If they attack from multiple directions simultaneously, the Sentinels can't cover everything fast enough."
Mercer stood near the window watching workers beyond the rain-streaked glass.
"They know our tanks exist now," he said quietly.
Nobody needed clarification.
The Children of Atom.
The element of shock was gone.
Last night frightened them.
The next attack?
They would prepare for armor.
Prepare for artillery.
Prepare for counterfire.
Which meant Far Harbor needed something else.
Something broader.
Something capable of supporting the entire settlement instead of only the gate approaches.
Sico remained silent for several seconds while studying the map.
Then finally spoke.
"We need artillery."
The room looked toward him immediately.
Not because the idea sounded impossible.
Because it sounded expensive.
Large-scale artillery wasn't something Far Harbor casually built from scrap metal and optimism. It required reinforced barrels, firing plates, stabilizers, targeting equipment, powder reserves, protected ammunition storage.
And logistics killed more armies than bullets sometimes.
Ward leaned back slowly.
"How many?"
"Eight."
That got a reaction.
Even Avery looked surprised.
"Eight?"
"Yes."
Sico pointed across the settlement map one section at a time.
"Western cliffs."
Another point.
"Southern ridge."
Another.
"Dock approach."
Again.
"Eastern perimeter. Harbor line. Northern observation hill."
He looked toward them calmly.
"I want overlapping fire coverage across the entire settlement."
The room went quiet again.
Because suddenly everyone could picture it.
Eight artillery positions surrounding Far Harbor.
Permanent fire support capable of striking incoming assaults before they even reached the walls.
Fog Crawlers.
Raiders.
Children of Atom convoys.
Anything approaching the harbor could be hit long before direct engagement.
Mercer exhaled quietly.
"That changes things."
"Yes."
Avery crossed her arms tighter.
"If we can actually build them."
"We can."
Simple answer.
Certain answer.
Ward looked toward him carefully.
"You already know where the materials are coming from."
Sico nodded once.
"Sanctuary."
Of course.
The Freemasons Republic had resources Far Harbor simply didn't possess yet. Manufacturing workshops. Salvage infrastructure. Engineering divisions capable of producing actual military-grade support systems instead of improvised defenses hammered together during rainstorms.
Alice sat near the far wall cleaning mud from her boots with a knife.
"You're about to ask Sarah for a small army worth of hardware."
"Yes."
"She's going to complain."
"Probably."
"…Still sending it though."
"Yes."
Alice smirked faintly.
"That woman worries aggressively."
Sico finally reached toward the long-range radio unit sitting near the communications desk.
The old machine crackled faintly beneath static while one of the operators immediately straightened from exhaustion the moment he realized what Sico intended.
"You want direct Sanctuary frequency?"
"Yes."
The operator adjusted several tuning dials carefully while static hissed louder through the room.
Long-range communication across the wasteland never sounded clean.
Too much interference.
Too much weather.
Too much dead world between signals.
Finally the operator nodded.
"Connection should hold."
Sico picked up the radio handset slowly while rain hammered against the building roof overhead.
Static crackled.
Then silence.
Then another voice emerged through distortion.
"…Sanctuary command receiving."
Sarah.
Tired too.
Probably hadn't slept much since hearing about the Nucleus raid.
Sico spoke evenly into the radio.
"Far Harbor actual."
A brief pause followed.
Then:
"You're alive."
Not exactly emotional.
But close enough for Sarah.
"We returned several hours ago."
Static crackled again.
"We heard partial reports from the convoy relay team. The Children fought back hard?"
"Yes."
Another pause.
Then Sarah's voice sharpened slightly.
"How bad?"
"Manageable."
That answer probably annoyed her immediately.
Sico could almost picture the expression on her face back at Sanctuary.
Because "manageable" usually meant bullets, explosions, casualties, or all three.
Ward quietly looked away to hide the faintest trace of amusement.
Sarah sighed heavily through the radio.
"That word means absolutely nothing anymore."
"Probably not."
A few nearby officers smiled despite exhaustion.
Tiny moments.
Necessary moments.
Then Sico's tone shifted back toward business.
"We need additional defensive support immediately."
Sarah answered without hesitation.
"What kind?"
"Artillery."
That got silence.
Not refusal.
Calculation.
"How many?"
"Eight batteries."
Several people in the command hall glanced toward each other again even though they already knew the number.
Hearing it spoken aloud still sounded massive.
Static crackled softly through the radio before Sarah finally answered again.
"…You really think things are escalating that far?"
"Yes."
No hesitation.
None.
And Sarah understood Sico well enough by now to recognize what that meant.
If he sounded this certain, then the situation was worse than most reports probably suggested.
"What happened at the Nucleus?" she asked quietly.
Sico looked toward the rain outside the window.
"We made them afraid."
Another silence followed.
Longer this time.
Then Sarah exhaled slowly through the radio.
"And now they'll come back harder."
"Yes."
"Wonderful."
Not sarcasm exactly.
More exhausted acceptance.
Sarah always understood strategy quickly.
If Far Harbor struck the Nucleus openly, then coexistence died with those artillery shells.
The island was entering open war now.
Finally Sarah's voice returned stronger.
"I can send the materials."
Ward immediately straightened slightly beside the table.
Good.
"We'll load prefabricated artillery components, firing assemblies, reinforced mounts, and ammunition stockpiles onto a Bridgekeeper transport."
"How long?"
"If weather holds?"
Static hissed again.
"Tomorrow morning."
Fast.
Very fast.
But Sanctuary understood urgency now.
Sico nodded once despite the radio obviously not carrying gestures.
"Good."
Sarah continued immediately.
"But listen carefully."
Her tone sharpened again.
"If I'm sending enough material for eight artillery platforms into Far Harbor, then you're officially becoming a military fortress."
Nobody in the room argued.
Because she was right.
There was no civilian explanation for eight artillery guns surrounding a harbor settlement.
That was war preparation.
Permanent war preparation.
Sico answered calmly.
"Yes."
Sarah sighed again.
"Then tighten your internal security too."
Ward looked toward the radio slightly.
"We already are."
"No," Sarah replied sharply. "I mean properly."
The room quieted.
Sarah's voice continued through heavy static.
"The Children of Atom won't just attack walls now. They'll infiltrate. Sabotage supply depots. Target civilians. Poison trust inside the settlement."
Mercer exchanged a glance with Avery.
Because once again, she was probably right.
"You need patrols inside Far Harbor too," Sarah continued. "Not just outside."
Sico considered that carefully.
Then nodded.
"We'll implement it."
"Good."
A softer pause followed.
Then finally:
"And Sico?"
"Yes."
"Don't underestimate what desperation does to religious fanatics."
The radio crackled quietly afterward.
Then the connection faded.
The room remained silent for several seconds after Sico lowered the handset.
Because Sarah had confirmed something nobody wanted spoken too loudly yet.
This war wasn't staying outside the walls anymore.
Not for long.
Ward finally broke the silence.
"I hate when she's right."
Alice lit another cigarette immediately.
"So… constantly?"
"…Fair."
The next twenty-four hours transformed Far Harbor further.
Rain never stopped.
Fog rolled endlessly through the harbor streets while construction crews worked almost continuously beneath floodlights and tar-covered workstations. Defensive trenches expanded farther south. Watchtowers received reinforced firing positions. Patrol schedules doubled.
And now another layer got added on top of all of it.
Artillery preparation.
Sico personally oversaw the placement planning before sunrise fully broke through the clouds.
Eight positions.
Eight separate kill zones.
No clustered batteries.
No easy sabotage targets.
If the Children of Atom struck one artillery nest, the others would still function.
That mattered.
A lot.
Hayes nearly lost his mind from excitement the moment he heard the word artillery.
"Finally," he announced dramatically while standing knee-deep in mud beside the western ridge, "people are beginning to appreciate civilized firepower."
Avery stared at him.
"You say that like you personally invented cannons."
Hayes pointed a wrench toward her.
"Emotionally, I did."
Nobody had energy to argue.
By afternoon, engineering crews were already digging reinforced firing pits along the western cliffs overlooking the main approach roads. Workers hauled sandbags through the rain while welders assembled support platforms beneath covered awnings.
Far Harbor looked less like a settlement now.
More like a fortress preparing for siege.
Children stayed indoors more often.
Parents watched patrols pass through the streets with guarded expressions.
Even conversations sounded different now.
Shorter.
Quieter.
People listened to the Fog while talking.
As if expecting it to answer.
The Bridgekeeper boat arrived the following morning.
Gray dawn spread weakly across the harbor when the first lookout spotted it emerging through the mist beyond the docks.
"Contact approaching!"
The alarm spread instantly across the waterfront.
Soldiers moved into defensive positions automatically while mounted guns rotated toward the harbor entrance. After the Nucleus raid, nobody trusted unidentified movement anymore.
Especially not in heavy Fog.
Sico arrived at the docks alongside Ward and Mercer just as the vessel pushed slowly through the mist toward Far Harbor.
The Bridgekeeper boat looked enormous beneath the rain.
A heavy industrial transport barge reinforced with steel plating and escort mounts along the sides. Its engines rumbled low across the water while chains clattered against the hull beneath crashing waves.
The Freemasons Republic insignia hung from the side tarp coverings.
Good.
Friendly.
Probably.
Ellis squinted toward the approaching vessel from beneath his hood.
"That thing's carrying enough weight to sink the harbor."
Ward crossed his arms.
"Let's hope not."
The boat finally reached docking range while Far Harbor workers rushed forward with ropes and loading hooks beneath steady rain.
Then the rear cargo tarps got pulled back.
And suddenly everyone nearby understood Sarah hadn't exaggerated anything.
Artillery components filled nearly the entire transport deck.
Massive reinforced barrels strapped into steel cradles.
Hydraulic stabilizer assemblies.
Ammunition crates stacked almost shoulder-high.
Targeting mechanisms carefully wrapped beneath waterproof coverings.
Even partially assembled firing platforms already welded into transport-ready sections.
Far Harbor dockworkers stared openly.
One older fisherman standing near the unloading crews blinked slowly.
"…That's not defense anymore."
No.
It wasn't.
It was preparation for sustained war.
Sico climbed aboard the transport vessel while Freemason logistics officers immediately approached with sealed inventory manifests.
"Eight artillery systems delivered as requested," one officer reported.
"Additional ammunition reserves included."
Ward looked over the cargo with visible calculation already running behind his eyes.
"How much range?"
The logistics officer answered immediately.
"Enough to hit anything approaching Far Harbor from the western island routes."
Mercer whistled quietly under his breath.
That changed things dramatically.
Sico looked toward the harbor beyond the ship rails.
Then toward the settlement.
Then back toward the artillery components.
"Unload immediately."
The docks exploded into movement after that.
Crates got lowered by crane systems onto reinforced carts while engineering crews scrambled through mud and rain coordinating transport routes toward the prepared artillery sites.
The settlement watched the process carefully.
People stopped walking just to stare as enormous artillery barrels rolled through the harbor streets beneath armed escort.
Children peeked from windows.
Workers paused mid-conversation.
Soldiers stood taller.
Because suddenly Far Harbor looked capable of fighting an actual war.
Not merely surviving one.
Hayes practically vibrated with dangerous enthusiasm while inspecting one of the artillery barrels.
"Oh this is beautiful."
Alice walked beside him carrying ammunition manifests.
"You're talking about a cannon again."
"It has reinforced recoil stabilization."
"…You say romantic things to machinery, don't you?"
Hayes ignored her completely.
"Do you understand what this means?"
He pointed dramatically toward the western ridge.
"We can fire across almost the entire northern coastline now."
Ward stepped beside them.
"That's the idea."
"THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE."
A nearby dockworker muttered quietly:
"That explains a lot actually."
By midday, Far Harbor had become one enormous construction zone.
Artillery positions rose across the settlement with exhausting speed while rain hammered constantly against scaffolding, sandbags, and fresh concrete foundations.
Sico moved personally between all eight sites throughout the day.
Western cliff battery.
Southern trench battery.
Dock artillery support nest.
Northern observation platform.
Eastern emergency response position.
Each one mattered.
Each one covered blind spots the Children of Atom might exploit later.
Mercer stood beside the western emplacement while workers lowered the first artillery barrel into position using chain cranes and hydraulic braces.
"You really think they'll attack at this scale?"
Sico watched the installation carefully.
"Yes."
Mercer followed his gaze.
"And if they don't?"
"Then the island will."
That answer stayed with Mercer longer than he expected.
Because Far Harbor wasn't merely preparing for the Children of Atom anymore.
This place always needed stronger defenses eventually.
Fog Crawlers.
Raiders.
Super mutants.
The island itself.
Strength attracted enemies.
But weakness buried settlements.
By evening, the first artillery battery stood operational overlooking the western approach roads.
Huge.
Cold.
Terrifying.
Its barrel pointed outward into the Fog while ammunition crews established protected storage pits nearby beneath reinforced plating.
Far Harbor residents gathered silently along the distant barricades watching the crews finish calibration procedures beneath floodlights.
The rain finally weakened sometime during the night.
Not completely.
Far Harbor probably wouldn't know true clear weather again for weeks.
But by dawn the storm had faded into a cold mist drifting low across the harbor while pale gray morning light spread slowly over the settlement. Fog rolled between buildings and barricades in slow rivers, curling around floodlights that still burned from the night before.
The island looked quieter.
That alone made people uneasy.
After the horde attack…
After the Nucleus raid…
After watching artillery cannons get dragged through the streets beneath armed escort.
Far Harbor no longer trusted silence.
Silence usually meant something was coming.
The settlement woke early again.
Workers moved through muddy streets carrying tools and supply crates while overnight patrols returned to the walls with exhausted faces and rifles slick with condensation. Smoke rose from cookfires near the dock district. Welders packed away equipment after working almost the entire night reinforcing artillery foundations.
And above all of it now stood the guns.
Eight artillery batteries.
Eight enormous silhouettes overlooking the Fog from different corners of Far Harbor.
The western cliff guns pointed toward the island roads leading from the Nucleus.
The southern ridge batteries overlooked forest approaches and old coastal trails.
The harbor artillery covered the docks and sea entrance.
The northern observation hill now looked more like a military fortress than a lookout post.
Even people who had lived in Far Harbor their entire lives stopped occasionally just to stare at them.
Because they changed the skyline.
Changed the feeling of the settlement itself.
Far Harbor no longer looked like a fishing town desperately surviving at the edge of the world.
Now it looked armed.
Prepared.
Dangerous.
Inside the command hall, the atmosphere felt sharper than the previous morning.
Not exhausted exactly.
Focused.
The artillery installations had consumed almost every available engineer and labor crew for the last twenty-four hours, but now the work was finally nearing completion.
Ward stood near the operational table reviewing final emplacement reports while Avery checked ammunition inventory lists beside him. Mercer leaned against the wall drinking coffee that had probably gone cold hours earlier.
Alice sat near an open window smoking while watching the harbor through drifting mist.
"You know," she muttered quietly, "if somebody told me a month ago we'd be building eight artillery positions around Far Harbor…"
Mercer glanced sideways.
"You would've laughed?"
"No."
She exhaled smoke toward the window.
"I would've started drinking earlier."
That earned a few tired smirks around the room.
Tiny moments again.
Still necessary.
A radio operator near the communications desk suddenly straightened.
"Western battery reporting."
Ward looked up immediately.
"Go."
The operator listened carefully for several seconds before answering.
"Copy."
Then turned toward the room.
"Western emplacement fully operational."
Good.
Another voice crackled through the radios almost immediately afterward.
Then another.
Then another.
One by one, reports arrived from across Far Harbor.
Southern ridge battery complete.
Northern observation platform operational.
Eastern emergency artillery nest calibrated.
Harbor guns loaded and aligned.
By midmorning, all eight batteries had reported ready status.
The room quieted slightly afterward.
Not because people were uncertain.
Because the reality settled in all at once.
Far Harbor now possessed enough artillery coverage to blanket nearly every approach road surrounding the settlement.
That changed everything.
Ward slowly lowered the report clipboard.
"All batteries operational."
Avery crossed her arms tightly.
"Never thought I'd hear those words in this place."
Neither had most people.
Not really.
Mercer walked toward the window overlooking the harbor and stared at the nearest artillery platform sitting above the dock district beneath pale gray skies.
"They're going to hear these things all across the island."
Sico stood near the center table studying the artillery range map silently for several moments.
Then finally spoke.
"Good."
Everyone looked toward him.
And immediately understood.
Test firing.
Ward exhaled quietly.
"You want to do it now."
"Yes."
Alice raised an eyebrow.
"That's subtle."
"We are past subtle."
Nobody argued.
Not anymore.
The Children of Atom already knew Far Harbor possessed armor and artillery capability after the Nucleus raid.
Now Sico intended to show them something worse.
Scale.
He looked toward the radio operator.
"Order all batteries to prepare live fire testing."
The operator blinked once.
"All eight?"
"Yes."
That sent a visible shift through the room.
Because one artillery cannon firing sounded intimidating.
Eight firing together?
That would sound like war itself.
The radio operator immediately began relaying commands across the settlement frequencies while static crackled through the hall.
"Western battery prepare live test."
"Southern ridge prepare firing sequence."
"Northern observation confirm readiness."
Outside, Far Harbor began reacting almost instantly.
Messengers ran through the muddy streets warning civilians to stay clear of artillery positions. Dockworkers paused unloading crates. Children got pulled indoors by nervous parents while soldiers moved toward observation posts overlooking the harbor approaches.
The news spread fast.
Artillery test.
All batteries.
Even people who had watched the guns being built still looked unsettled hearing those words spoken aloud.
Because theory and reality were different things.
Hayes looked like a man approaching religious enlightenment.
Sico found him near the western battery already standing ankle-deep in mud beside the artillery crews while ranting enthusiastically about recoil stabilization.
"You cannot rush calibration," Hayes informed a deeply exhausted assistant engineer. "This is controlled destruction, not random destruction. There's professionalism involved."
The assistant looked half-dead from lack of sleep.
"Yes, sir."
Hayes turned immediately toward the artillery barrel.
"Beautiful."
Alice walked past carrying hearing protection gear.
"You're flirting with a cannon again."
"It understands me."
"That's deeply concerning."
The western battery itself looked monstrous now in full daylight.
The artillery cannon sat anchored into reinforced concrete and steel support braces overlooking the cliffs west of Far Harbor. Ammunition crews moved carefully around stacked shells stored beneath protective coverings while range spotters checked coordinates through binoculars aimed toward distant uninhabited coastline.
Everything smelled like wet earth, oil, cold metal, and explosives.
Far Harbor soldiers gathered along the perimeter watching quietly.
Some looked excited.
Others looked nervous.
Most looked tired.
Sico climbed onto the elevated observation platform overlooking the western battery while Ward joined him carrying range reports.
"All target zones clear," Ward said.
"Good."
"How far are we firing?"
Sico looked toward the Fog-covered coastline stretching beyond the cliffs.
"Far enough."
That answer told Ward everything he needed.
This wasn't only testing.
This was messaging.
The Children of Atom had scouts everywhere across the island.
Maybe hidden along cliffs.
Maybe watching from ruined structures beyond the roads.
Maybe already listening through the Fog.
Good.
Let them hear.
The radio operator standing near the artillery crews lifted his handset.
"All batteries stand by."
Static answered from across Far Harbor.
"Southern ready."
"Northern ready."
"Harbor guns ready."
"Eastern ready."
The confirmations continued one after another until finally all eight batteries reported operational status.
The settlement itself seemed to hold its breath.
Even the harbor sounded quieter somehow.
Waves crashing against the docks.
Distant gulls.
Wind drifting through the Fog.
Then Sico gave the order.
"Fire."
The western battery fired first.
The cannon blast shattered the morning.
The entire cliffside erupted beneath a concussion so violent it physically punched through the air across Far Harbor. Fire exploded from the barrel while the artillery shell screamed out across the Fog toward the distant coastline.
The recoil slammed through the reinforced platform hard enough to shake mud loose from nearby sandbags.
Several civilians farther below instinctively ducked despite standing hundreds of meters away.
Then, almost immediately.
BOOM.
The southern ridge battery fired.
Then another.
Then another.
Within seconds all eight artillery positions thundered across Far Harbor in staggered sequence, their cannon blasts rolling through the island like an earthquake made of steel and fire.
Windows rattled violently across the settlement.
Seagulls exploded upward from the docks in terrified swarms.
Children screamed.
Dogs barked wildly.
Even experienced soldiers flinched at the sheer force of it.
Because this wasn't rifle fire.
Wasn't even tank artillery.
This sounded larger.
Heavier.
Like the settlement itself had suddenly learned how to roar.
Far out beyond the western coastline, explosions blossomed through the Fog where the artillery rounds struck empty target zones along abandoned cliffs and ruined shoreline.
A few seconds later the shockwaves rolled back toward Far Harbor faintly through the mist.
And then the batteries fired again.
The second volley sounded even worse.
Not because people weren't expecting it.
Because now they understood what was happening.
Eight artillery batteries.
All operational.
All capable of firing together.
The thunder rolled endlessly across the island.
Smoke drifted from the cannon barrels while artillery crews worked with disciplined precision loading fresh shells into breeches glowing faintly from heat.
Hayes looked happier than anyone had a right to during live bombardment.
"Listen to that," he said reverently.
Alice stood nearby with hands covering her ears.
"I hate everything about this conversation."
The third volley fired across the island.
This time people throughout Far Harbor stopped working completely just to stare toward the artillery positions as the explosions echoed through the harbor.
Dockworkers stood frozen beside cranes.
Fishermen watched from piers.
Children peeked from windows wide-eyed while parents held them close.
Because everyone understood the meaning behind this display.
Far Harbor was warning the island.
And maybe warning itself too.
Mercer stood beside Sico on the observation platform watching distant explosions bloom through the Fog.
"They'll hear this at the Nucleus."
"Yes."
"Probably think we're attacking again."
"Good."
Mercer looked sideways toward him briefly.
"You really want them nervous every second now."
"Yes."
Simple answer.
But honest.
Fear exhausted people.
Exhausted defenders made mistakes.
The Children of Atom would spend the rest of today wondering whether those artillery rounds represented testing…
Or preparation.
Ward lowered binoculars after watching another impact detonate along the far cliffs.
"Accuracy's better than expected."
"Range too," Avery added from nearby.
The artillery shells were landing frighteningly far from the settlement.
Far enough to cover almost every major approach route surrounding Far Harbor.
That mattered.
Because now attackers wouldn't simply fight walls anymore.
They would fight bombardment before reaching the walls at all.
The fourth volley fired.
This one synchronized.
All eight batteries almost simultaneously.
The result felt apocalyptic.
The thunder hit so hard several nearby workers instinctively grabbed onto railings while vibrations rippled through the cliffside beneath their boots.
The Fog itself seemed to shake.
Then came the distant impacts.
Eight separate explosions tearing across the coastline through gray mist.
Sico watched them silently.
The artillery crews looked proud now.
Tired.
Covered in mud and smoke residue.
But proud.
Because they understood what they built.
Not just weapons.
Security.
Maybe survival.
The island punished weakness relentlessly.
Far Harbor finally looked strong enough to punish something back.
Below the western battery, civilians had begun gathering carefully along barricade lines overlooking the harbor.
Watching.
Listening.
One older fisherman removed his cap slowly after the fourth volley and stared toward the artillery smoke drifting across the cliffs.
"Never thought I'd hear that sound in this place," he muttered quietly.
Another dockworker beside him nodded.
"Sounds like the mainland war stories."
The fisherman looked toward the Fog beyond the harbor walls.
"Yeah."
Pause.
"…Means trouble's coming too."
That was the other truth hanging over everything.
Artillery meant safety.
But artillery also meant escalation.
Nobody built eight artillery batteries expecting peace afterward.
The fifth volley fired farther north this time.
Range testing.
The shell impacts landed beyond the coastal forestlines hard enough to send flocks of birds exploding upward through the mist kilometers away.
Mercer watched through binoculars.
"That's terrifying."
"Yes," Sico replied calmly.
"That's the point."
By late morning the artillery tests had become the only thing anyone in Far Harbor talked about.
Workers shouted over lingering echoes while smoke drifted through the settlement from the firing positions. Ammunition crews rotated constantly between batteries carrying shells beneath armed escort.
The guns looked alive now.
Not construction projects anymore.
Weapons.
Real ones.
And across the island…
The Children of Atom were definitely listening.
Sico knew that.
Probably imagining artillery maps.
Probably moving scouts.
Probably wondering whether Far Harbor intended another assault already.
Good.
Let paranoia spread.
Inside the Nucleus, every cannon blast would sound like a countdown.
The sixth volley finally paused after firing.
Silence rushed back across the harbor strangely afterward.
Not true silence.
Ears still rang.
Smoke still drifted.
But compared to the artillery thunder?
The island suddenly felt hollow.
Hayes immediately started ranting about barrel temperature management to anyone unfortunate enough to stand nearby.
"You cannot repeatedly fire heavy artillery without respecting thermal expansion dynamics!"
A nearby crewman looked exhausted.
"Yes, Hayes."
"You say that now but then somebody melts a breech assembly and suddenly I'm the villain for caring about engineering integrity."
Alice leaned toward Ward quietly.
"I'm starting to understand why machinery fears him."
Ward almost smiled.
Almost.
Far Harbor itself seemed different now.
The people standing in the streets beneath drifting Fog and artillery smoke no longer looked merely frightened survivors trapped on a dangerous island.
Now they looked defended.
That mattered psychologically.
Maybe more than the shells themselves.
Fear changed communities.
But so did confidence.
The seventh volley fired shortly before noon.
This one directed out toward open water beyond the harbor entrance.
The explosions struck distant rock formations offshore hard enough to launch seawater high into the air beneath gray skies.
The harbor shook again.
And for the first time since the horde attack, some people in Far Harbor actually smiled.
Not because war felt exciting.
Because strength felt reassuring.
Children pointed toward the distant explosions from windows.
Dockworkers nodded approvingly.
Soldiers stood straighter along the walls.
The island still looked terrifying beyond the Fog.
But now Far Harbor sounded terrifying too.
Finally, near midday, Sico ordered the last firing sequence.
One final synchronized barrage from all eight artillery positions.
The crews moved with polished efficiency now despite exhaustion.
Shells loaded.
Angles adjusted.
Coordinates confirmed.
"Fire."
All eight artillery guns erupted together.
The sound obliterated the harbor.
A wall of thunder crashed across the island so violently it felt almost physical, rolling through streets, cliffs, rooftops, and docks with enough force to shake dust loose from ceiling beams inside nearby buildings.
Flames burst from every barrel simultaneously.
Eight shells screamed outward into the Fog.
Seconds later the horizon exploded.
Distant cliffs vanished beneath fire and debris while shockwaves rolled back across the ocean beneath endless gray clouds as smoke drifted slowly upward from the artillery barrels.
______________________________________________
• 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:-