November 13, 2287 – As Nick and I headed to the lower level of the Memory Den, where Dr. Amari set people up in egg-shaped pods where they could live out parts of other people’s lives, I asked him a question I had been wondering about for quite a while, especially in light of my conversation with Hancock. With so many in the Commonwealth openly hostile toward the Institute, and synths in general, how was it that he was on such good terms with so many people? He said it hadn’t always been this way. He had never hidden who he was, and in a time when the real terror of synths came from them inhabiting friends and family, he had always just been Nick. That transparency – which was mostly forced by his facial appearance – had been vital in getting people to trust him.
November 12, 2287 – Whenever I spend some time in what passes for civilization these days, I start getting complacent. The northwest suburbs of the Commonwealth are now largely controlled by the Minutemen and the Brotherhood. Diamond City and its surroundings are pretty much under control of the Diamond City guards, or at least there’s an illusion of control outside the gates, finally. But I keep forgetting how necessary it is to stay on high alert once outside those pockets of stability.
November 12, 2287 – Has someone ever told you something about their past that completely changed how you perceived them? Reason I ask is because I just had a very interesting chat with someone back at Diamond City, and something she told me revealed a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why she’s so aggressively trying to get the word out about a danger she sees threatening the entire Commonwealth. OK, you know who I’m talking about, but I’ll get to that story in just a moment.
November 10, 2287 – Aside from my lengthy nap in the crashed military tank I had stumbled upon in the wasteland just north of Fort Hagan, I had pretty much been going full tilt since Nick and I had started tracking down Kellogg. That kind of schedule was probably fine for Nick, being a synth and all, but when I had first arrived at the Red Rocket, I don’t even think I had realized how exhausted I was. The power armor I had discovered in a Fort Hagen barn had helped make it a little easier to get home, despite being wounded from the shrapnel in the proximity mine explosion near the tank, but now that I had a chance to sort of catch my breath, it was clear that I didn’t have the kind of energy I was going to need in order to break into the Institute. That is if I could even find it.