November 29, 2287 – Nick and I made a right turn in the courtyard after emerging from the early morning bustle of Diamond City. We headed north through the passage in the wall of scaffolding that served as a security checkpoint against the Super Mutant compound that had established a hold on the neighborhood just up the street. But it wasn’t the Super Mutants that the Diamond City security guard warned us about as we passed through and entered the Commonwealth’s crumbling streets.
“Feral Ghouls like to hide in the dark. Makes night patrol a real frightfest,” he noted. I hadn’t seen many feral ghouls wandering around within the city limits, they were mostly in the outskirts, or down in the subway tunnels. Still, I took the words to heart, considering it a reminder that we were no longer under the protection of Fenway security.
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