Fallout: New Vegas – The Lost Courier

Darkness. That was the first thing he noticed.

His body felt restrained, his arms bound tightly behind him, and something rough and thick covered his face. Panic surged through him as he struggled, but his efforts were met with failure. His legs wouldn't move, and his mouth—his mouth was shut tight, sealed as if someone had forced it closed.

This isn't good.

His breathing came fast, muffled by whatever was covering his face. He twisted against the restraints, but they held firm. He wasn't going anywhere. Slowly, dread settled in. He'd been kidnapped.

Then, voices.

"Is the grave ready?" someone asked, their tone casual, as if they were talking about digging a hole for a fence post rather than a person.

"Almost done, boss," another voice replied.

Grave. That word hit him like a bullet. He froze. His mind screamed at him to move, to escape, but there was nothing he could do. His heart pounded in his chest as he felt hands grab at the cloth covering his face.

With one swift motion, it was yanked away, and a blinding light forced him to shut his eyes. He blinked rapidly, trying to adjust, and when his vision cleared, he finally saw them.

Three men stood before him. His focus locked onto the one in the center. A man in a checkered suit, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. A cigarette dangled between his fingers as he exhaled a slow stream of smoke. The moment the light fully hit his face, recognition slammed into him like a truck.

Benny.

Fallout: New Vegas.

No. That wasn't possible. That was a game, not reality. But everything around him—the dirt, the cold desert air, the stars hanging above—felt real. Too real.

"Guess who's waking up over here," one of the thugs muttered.

Benny took a final drag of his cigarette, then flicked it to the ground, grinding it beneath his shoe. His gaze met the protagonist's, and he gave a short chuckle.

"Time to cash out."

One of the other men scoffed. "Will you get on with it?"

Benny raised a hand to silence him. "Maybe Khans kill people without looking 'em in the face, but I ain't a fink, dig?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled something out—a small, round object that glinted under the moonlight. The Platinum Chip.

"You've made your last delivery, kid," Benny said, his tone almost regretful. Almost. He tucked the chip back into his suit and pulled a pistol Maria from his side. 

"Sorry you got twisted up in this scene." He leveled the gun at the protagonist's head. "From where you're kneeling, it must seem like an eighteen-carat run of bad luck."

The protagonist's mind raced. This was wrong. This was real. He knew what was coming, but his body wouldn't move.

Benny smirked. "Truth is... the game was rigged from the start."

The last thing he saw was the muzzle flash.

Then, nothing.

The next thing he knew, he was surrounded by darkness once again. But this time, something was different. His mind started piecing together fragments of memory—his own memories.

His name was Cain. He was a 20-year-old college student. The last thing he remembered before waking up here was sitting in his room, playing Fallout: New Vegas. But he wasn't just playing vanilla; he had been modding the game, trying to get everything just right.

The problem? MCM—the Mod Configuration Menu—wasn't showing up. It kept throwing errors, refusing to work. Frustrated, Cain had slammed his fists against the table repeatedly, his anger boiling over. In his rage, he hadn't noticed his drink tipping over. The liquid had splashed across his device, and then—

Pain. Electricity surging through his body. Then nothing.

Did I... die?

Before he could fully process that horrifying thought, another wave of memory rushed into his mind. At first, he thought it was the Courier's past, but no—it was something different. It was basic knowledge. How to use a gun, how to handle explosives, how to work with energy weapons. It was survival knowledge, the kind needed to make it in the wasteland.

Hours seemed to pass in this void, leaving Cain alone with his thoughts. Is this it? Am I actually dead?

Then, the darkness began to fade. Slowly, his senses returned, and he felt something solid beneath him. A dull ache spread through his body as his consciousness pulled itself back together.

Cain was waking up.

Cain slowly opened his eyes, his vision swimming as he stared up at a ceiling fan lazily spinning above him. His head throbbed, and a wave of dizziness washed over him as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings.

"You're awake. How about that?"

The voice startled him. He turned his head slightly and saw a man sitting nearby, watching him with a calm, almost relieved expression. Cain tried to sit up, but the moment he moved, a sharp pain shot through his body.

"Whoa, easy there. Easy," the man said, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "You've been out cold a couple of days now."

Cain took a deep breath, waiting for the dizziness to subside. The man spoke again. "Why don't you just relax a second? Get your bearings. Let's see what the damage is. How about your name? Can you tell me your name?"

As soon as the words left the man's mouth, everything around Cain stopped. Time itself seemed to freeze. A floating window appeared in front of him, a familiar interface that sent a shiver down his spine.

Enter Name

The default name displayed was Courier.

Cain stared at it. This was it. His new life. He needed a new name. Something simple, something he could make his own. After a moment of thought, he settled on it.

Kai.

He selected the name, watching as Courier changed to Kai, and as soon as he confirmed it, time resumed.

"My name is Kai," he said, his voice steady.

The man gave a small chuckle. "Huh. Can't say it's what I'd have picked for you. But if that's your name, that's your name." He leaned back slightly before continuing, "I'm Doc Mitchell. Welcome to Goodsprings."

Kai took in his surroundings, realizing where he was. The dusty, old-fashioned room. The medical equipment. The old doctor who had just patched him up.

"Now, I hope you don't mind, but I had to go rooting around there in your noggin to pull all the bits of lead out. I take pride in my needlework, but you'd better tell me if I left anything out of place. How'd I do?"

Doc Mitchell handed Kai a nearby Robo-Co device, and another screen popped up, showing Character Creation. Kai stared at the familiar sight before looking into the mirror. His reflection showed black hair and a slightly tanned face, a version of himself that wasn't too far from what he remembered.

Satisfied, he accepted it, setting his new identity in stone.

"My name is Kai," he answered.

The man nodded. "Huh. Can't say it's what I'd have picked for you. But if that's your name, that's your name."

He then introduced himself. "I'm Doc Mitchell. Welcome to Goodsprings. Now, I hope you don't mind, but I had to go rooting around there in your noggin to pull all the bits of lead out. I take pride in my needlework, but you'd better tell me if I left anything out of place. How'd I do?"

Kai looked at his reflection in the Robo-Co screen that Doc handed him. His black hair, slightly tanned face, and familiar features stared back at him. Everything looked fine, so he accepted it.

Doc Mitchell nodded. "Well, I got most of it right, anyway. Stuff that mattered."

He stood up and extended a hand to help Kai. "Okay. No sense keeping you in bed anymore. Let's see if we can get you on your feet."

Kai took his hand and slowly got up, feeling a little unsteady but stable enough. Doc gave him an approving nod. "Good. Why don't you walk down to the end of the room? Over by that Vigor Tester machine there. Take it slow now. It ain't a race."

Kai followed Doc towards the machine, his steps steadying as he walked. "Looking good so far. Go ahead and give the Vigor Tester a try. We'll learn right quick if you got back all your faculties."

Kai reached out and touched the Vit-o-Matic Vigor Tester, and another window popped up, displaying his S.P.E.C.I.A.L. stats. He carefully allocated his points, considering what would help him survive in the Mojave. After a few seconds, he finalized his choices:

Strength: 5

Perception: 5

Endurance: 7

Charisma: 1

Intelligence: 6

Agility: 8

Luck: 8

Confirming his selection, Kai turned back to Doc Mitchell, who nodded approvingly. "Let's go into the next room. I've got a few more tests I'd like to run."

With that, Doc headed towards the next room, and Kai followed