The Search

26 – Leaving the Sea

November 27, 2287 – As Ada and I approached the edge of the Glowing Sea, back to what I’d say was the proper Commonwealth, the sun had started to emerge over a hill toward the eastern horizon. An irradiated pond in the valley before me increasingly mirrored the oranges of morning, and I felt a building but unexpected sensation of contentment wash over me – a kind of peace I hadn’t felt in a long, long time. I was reminded of a morning when I was a child. In fact, maybe I had visited this place before, because something about the row of trees way beyond and the way they meandered about the other side of the pond struck me. My mom and dad were there, the weather was sharp, with a cool breeze winding past us, the smell of lilacs in the air. It’s funny how the smell of a flower you haven’t smelled in a couple decades – well, longer if you think about it – how it can come back to you and you know instantly what it is.

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The Search

25 – The Glowing Sea

November 25, 2287 – At the beginning of this diary, I remember writing something about how my memory couldn’t be trusted. That’s certainly true, but I feel I owe anyone reading this – or listening to it – an explanation of where I am now, and what’s going on, so I’m going to try my best to go over everything that’s happened since I left Covenant. It’s only been nine days, but for some reason it feels like nine months. That memory thing again. Maybe it plays with time as well as recall.

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The Search

24 – Season Two Kickoff

November 25, 2287 – Do you hear that sound? That’s the sound of two or three Deathclaws up above me. They’ve been patrolling for the last hour or so, trying to sniff me out. I’m hiding in a church, inside the Glowing Sea, below ground level. It had been covered up to the bottom of its belltower with dirt, and I stepped on the rotting roof next to it and fell inside. As I was trying to climb out, I heard that unmistakable snort.

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The Search

23 – Covenant

November 16, 2287 – There’s a chill coming through the window of the house where I’m staying in this little settlement called Covenant. I don’t know why they leave the windows open. It’s mid-November. The other people here don’t seem to mind, but sometimes there’s two of them in a bed, so maybe they’re keeping each other warm. They tell me a few days have gone by since they brought me here. The only time I seem to wake up and be somewhat aware of what’s going on is when that damned breeze comes in, usually in the middle of the night. There’s the constant drone of generators, or turrets – maybe a mix of the two. And a tree just outside my window that makes an eerie creaking sound every time that coldness drifts through the window.

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