If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead, be sure to check out my Patreon!!!
Go to https://www.patreon.com/Tang12
___________________________
He turned from the map, eyes shadowed, mind already on the next move. The war with the Institute had gone from rumor to reality.
The morning after the ambush, Minutemen HQ didn't wake up—it stayed awake. Nobody had slept. The war room buzzed with quiet intensity, still lit in red alert status. Engineers rotated shifts at the monitoring stations. Sentinel tanks had returned to their staging zones under maximum secrecy. The captured synth was locked away, and Mel hadn't left the lab since dawn, running scans, decoding firmware, and muttering about data encryption that was "too clean to be natural."
By midday, Sico knew what had to be done.
He stood at the head of the long, curved meeting table inside the main briefing chamber, hands braced against the cold steel surface. The room smelled of coffee, ozone, and sweat. No one was chatting. The energy was taut, simmering. Around him sat or stood his most trusted people—battle-hardened, brilliant, scarred, loyal.
Mel, still in his lab coat, dark rings under his eyes but no less sharp. Hancock leaned against the far wall, coat half-open, eyes narrowed, cigarette forgotten between his fingers. Robert and Jenny sat close together, both straight-backed and stone-faced. MacCready lounged in his chair like it owed him money, but his fingers tapped rhythmically on his thigh, keyed up. Magnolia had a notepad open, a pen she wasn't writing with. Curie had a datapad, lenses glowing faintly blue. Albert and Sturges stood near the room's rear console, muttering quietly about power routing and synth core dampening. Sarah sat two seats from Preston, arms crossed tight but gaze locked on Sico, waiting. Piper leaned forward in her chair, already halfway into "recording mode." And at the far end of the table, two tinny voices crackled from open radios—Cait from Minutemen Plaza and Ronnie Shaw from the Castle.
Sico took a breath.
"We're at war."
The sentence landed like a hammer on the table.
"Not just tactically. Not from the shadows. Not hidden behind bait convoys or secret kill squads. I mean war—loud, public, and absolute. I want to declare it. Formally. Broadcast it to every settlement, every caravan, every safehouse in the Commonwealth. I want the Institute to hear it underground and know exactly who's coming."
He looked around. "But before I make that call, I want to hear what you all think."
For a beat, no one spoke. Then, predictably, Preston stood first.
"We've been playing defense since Quincy. Running, rebuilding, trying to survive long enough to matter. Sico, you made us matter again. You made the Minutemen stand for something. So if you're asking me if I back this war?" He nodded, hard. "You already know."
Sico nodded once, but said nothing, letting the room breathe.
Mel was next, rubbing his eyes before speaking. "The synth we captured was a third-gen elite. Its memory core is almost completely clean. They burned everything from its last twelve ops. But what I salvaged tells me they've done this before. Sabotage ops. False flag hits. This wasn't desperation—it was a routine mission for them. That's who we're dealing with. And we can't keep pretending we're going to outthink them forever. We need to break their system. I say hit them."
Robert spoke up, voice low but steady. "I've lost five people—two from the Greyditch convoy, three from patrols near Diamond City. All 'mysterious ambushes.' We know who's behind it now. I'm tired of burying good people while the Institute plays ghost. I want them above ground. I want them exposed. I want war."
Jenny didn't speak—she just nodded, sharp and silent, her eyes blazing.
"Bloody hell, it's about time," Cait's voice cut in through the radio. "I've been telling folk here we oughta take the fight to the bastards for weeks. They snatched my neighbor's son right off the street and left a synth in his bed. Ain't nobody here sleepin' easy anymore. You say war, I say 'what weapons we bringin'.' Let's end it."
Ronnie Shaw's gravelly voice followed. "I've fought Enclave remnants, raider warlords, Brotherhood purges—you name it. But I ain't never seen an enemy so clean, so hidden, so smug. They think they're gods behind glass walls. I say we show 'em they bleed like the rest. But if we do this, we do it smart. Strategic. Hit their support systems first—water, power, data lines. Then the hammer comes down."
MacCready shifted, his usual sarcasm absent. "I used to do merc work for caps, not causes. But this? This is a cause. I watched those synths fire first, no hesitation. We were bait, and they wanted blood. That's not a rogue op. That's orders. And orders mean leadership. Leadership we need to cut off at the knees."
Curie tilted her head. "We must also be prepared for their retaliation. They may strike at civilians, settlements, essential services. We must protect the vulnerable—evacuation plans, safe zones, decentralized medicine. But… I agree. This must end. Their methods are cruel. Their ethics, nonexistent. Science cannot excuse atrocity."
Albert finally looked up from his datapad. "We've been upgrading the Sentinels, retrofitting plasma shielding, integrating Mark II scanners. I can deploy new protocols to make them more responsive in synth detection. If this is war, we've got the hardware. And I'll keep making more."
Sturges added, "And I'll keep 'em running. But let's not fool ourselves—this ain't just a shootout. The Institute has tech we can't even imagine. We hit them, they're gonna hit back harder. Just sayin'."
Sico nodded. "That's why we hit first. Harder. Smarter."
Magnolia spoke softly but firmly. "We've seen what they do to people who question them. We've taken in survivors, escaped synths, refugees. They destroy lives from the inside out. You want my answer? I say we write a new song—the one where the monsters in the dark finally face the light."
Piper leaned forward. "If we're going public, I'll handle the press. We make this about more than just the Minutemen. We show the Institute's crimes—Greyditch, the synth swap victims, the tech they stole, the lies. We win the Commonwealth's heart before we ever fire a shot underground."
Sarah was the last to speak. "We don't know how deep their reach goes. They could be listening right now. They could have sleepers in our ranks. If we do this, we tighten everything. Scrub comms. Lock rotation logs. Triple-check background scans. Then we strike first, and we strike with everything we have. I'm in. But we do it right."
The room went still again. Everyone had spoken. Everyone had said yes.
Sico looked down for a moment, as if seeing something no one else could—a thread only he could pull.
Then he looked up.
"Alright," he said. "We make it official. In twelve hours, we go public."
He turned to Piper. "You draft the message. Make it raw. Honest. The Institute thinks they're above accountability—we bring the receipts."
To Curie, "Start working on medical and evac protocols for every settlement in range of Institute operations. You're our lifeline."
To Robert, "Prep all Commandos. Get them ready to mobilize. Defensive perimeters at every outpost."
To Sturges, "Run full internal security sweep. I want background rechecks, loyalty pings, and synth tests. Anyone shady, pull them quietly."
To Albert and Mel, "Lock down the Sentinels. Secure codes. No AI drift. You're the spear."
To Sarah, "You're in charge of civilian coordination. Evacuations. Supply chains. Morale."
To MacCready, "Lead a Commandos team. Quiet insertions, recon only. We need eyes under the surface. If there's a backdoor into the Institute, I want it found."
To Preston, "Prepare our soldiers. Tanks. Power Armor team. All of it for this war."
And finally, to Cait and Ronnie, "Start rallying Castle and Plaza forces. We'll need every blade, bullet, and brave soul for what's coming."
He looked around the room one last time.
"The Institute wanted war. We'll show them what war really looks like. Not shadows. Not lies. Just truth, fury, and fire. We're not hiding anymore. The Commonwealth is ours."
Then twelve hours later…
The wind carried a dry bite over the Commonwealth, and the sky was bruised with early dusk. It was the kind of evening where everyone seemed to pause—raiders, settlers, traders—drawn to the sudden, unfamiliar gravity of silence on the airwaves. Then, with a flicker of static and a low hum, Radio Freedom came alive.
The usual chimes were gone.
Instead, Piper Wright's voice crackled through every speaker rig, jury-rigged receiver, settlement relay, and caravan pip-boy across the wasteland. Her tone wasn't rushed, wasn't panicked—it was clear, sharpened by resolve, raw with truth.
"This is Piper Wright, reporting live on behalf of the Minutemen. This is not a routine broadcast. What I'm about to say will change everything you know about the Commonwealth—and the enemies we face."
In bunkhouses and taverns, people stopped moving. In bunkers and on rooftops, Minutemen froze in place, listening.
"Under orders from General Sico, leader of the Minutemen, I have been asked to make this declaration on behalf of every person who dares to dream of freedom and peace in this war-torn land."
She took a breath. The next words weren't just reporting.
They were history.
"We are at war. As of this moment, the Minutemen formally declare open war against the Institute."
Gasps. Silence. Then murmurs—too far away to be heard on air, but loud in every heart.
"This is not a war we wanted. But it's one we can no longer avoid. For too long, the Institute has operated from the shadows—stealing lives, replacing people with machines, attacking convoys under false flags, and turning neighbor against neighbor. They've tried to make the Commonwealth into their testing ground. Their lab. Their playground."
"But no more."
There was a crackle of shifting paper, then Piper's voice, reading directly from the declaration Sico had signed only hours earlier.
"To the leaders of the Institute: We see you now. We know what you've done. And we will not hide. The Minutemen stand as protectors of the people—not just from raiders or mutants—but from the architects of fear and manipulation. You wanted to remain ghosts. We will force you into the light. This is a declaration of war—on your systems, your secrets, your cruelty. And we will not stop until the people of the Commonwealth are free of your chains."
The broadcast continued, laying out facts—Greyditch, the synth infiltrations, the false Brotherhood uniforms, the tech theft, the sabotage, the death toll.
Piper ended with:
"We are the Minutemen. We don't bow. We don't vanish. And we never stop fighting for those who can't."
Then the signal cut.
Across the wasteland, the reaction was like a spark in a powder keg.
Settlements cheered. Some wept. Others scrambled to prepare. Raiders listened in stunned confusion, and traders began rerouting caravans.
But underground, in the cold synthetic halls of the Institute, the war room turned to chaos.
"They weren't supposed to do that."
The words echoed from one of the Division Heads, voice brittle with disbelief.
A team of scientists and operatives clustered around a bank of screens, all blinking red with the rebroadcast of Piper's message. The whole Commonwealth had heard it. That wasn't the plan. The plan had been simple: blame the Brotherhood for rising aggression, provoke Minutemen retaliation, let the two largest surface factions destroy each other, then sweep the board clean.
Instead, the Institute had been exposed. Not blamed. Named.
Dr. Ayo slammed his hand on the console. "Who approved the Greyditch operation? We told the synth team to stay covert."
"It wasn't supposed to escalate like this," muttered another, sweat on his brow. "It was surgical. Contained."
"Well it sure as hell isn't now," Ayo snapped. "They've gone public. And now they have the Commonwealth on their side."
Someone else asked the question nobody wanted to answer.
"What do we do?"
No answer came.
Meanwhile, high above the Commonwealth in the sky-blackened shadow of the Prydwen, another war council was already underway.
Elder Arthur Maxson stood at the center of the command platform, arms crossed behind his back as Paladin Danse finished his report.
Danse's voice was grim, but steady.
"Sico send me a word or a message. Told me the Institute's been playing us against each other. They've been orchestrating false flag attacks—using synths in Brotherhood gear to bait the Minutemen into retaliation. He didn't threaten. He didn't plead. He warned me. Said the Institute was trying to turn us into pawns."
Maxson said nothing at first. His expression was unreadable, eyes flicking to the holomap of the Commonwealth hovering in front of him.
"And you believe him?" Maxson finally asked.
Danse nodded. "I've seen it before. The Institute manipulates perception like a scalpel. And the Minutemen… they're too decentralized for long cons. This doesn't serve them."
Maxson narrowed his gaze. He had known Sico by reputation—tactical mind, loyal, unrelenting. Not one for games.
Then—the blast doors hissed open.
Lancer-Captain Kells strode in fast, holding a secure datapad.
"Elder Maxson," he announced, "we've just intercepted a broad-spectrum transmission from Radio Freedom."
He handed over the pad.
Maxson read the message.
The words burned.
Then he handed it to Danse. "It's official," Maxson said. "The Minutemen have declared war. But not on us. On the Institute."
The room shifted. Tension flipped like a switch. Even the scribes near the rear of the chamber stopped typing.
Danse looked up from the message. "They're not waiting anymore. The Commonwealth's moving."
Maxson let the silence settle before speaking.
"We've spent months preparing for a war with the Institute. But the Minutemen just beat us to the declaration."
Kells spoke up. "Orders, sir?"
Maxson stepped toward the command map, eyes flint.
"We're going to watch. Listen. Danse, you'll maintain contact with Sico's people. I want to know everything they do. If they strike deep, I want to know how far they get."
Danse nodded. "And if they ask for our help?"
Maxson's expression hardened. "We'll decide that when they prove they're not just another militia playing hero. But… if what they say is true—if the Institute's already moving against civilians, settlements, Brotherhood personnel—then they've started a war none of us can ignore."
He looked back toward the glowing outline of the Commonwealth.
"The Institute wanted shadows. The Minutemen brought fire. Let's see how far it spreads."
Back at Minutemen HQ, Sico stood alone in the war room. The red lights had dimmed, replaced by an amber glow—alert, but no longer reactive.
He stared at a map of the Commonwealth, while receive a words from the radio, from any settlements that had signaled back in support. One by one. Caravan guards. Town elders. Survivors.
They weren't afraid.
He could feel it.
He heard the door open behind him.
It was Piper. She was still holding the written declaration, edges crumpled from her grip.
"They heard you," she said.
"No," Sico replied, without turning. "They heard us."
Piper stepped beside him. "The Institute's gonna hit back. Hard."
"I know," Sico said.
"You scared?"
He finally turned, looked her in the eye.
"I'm ready."
They didn't need to say more.
Because war had come to the Commonwealth. Not with silence. Not with mystery. But with truth, fury… and fire.
________________________________________________
• 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:-