Last Will: Forgotten Roads

Last will has been described by Shroud as "Last will of a Lonesome man part 6." It was said to be released by January sixth, or mid December. It's actual release date was February seventeenth, 2023. The Story has been listed below.

*Where is home?*

*For 10 years, Ulysses asked himself that question, and he never found an answer. He assumed it was the Divide, but there were other places he once lived. Dry Wells, Wolfhorn ranch, now Vegas...*

*The answers Ulysses sought were lost throughout a road he hadn't walked in years, a road that had been covered by years of Mojave dust and long since forgotten. But where exactly was that road? The last thing Ulysses needed was more questions, but he continued to ask more anyway, even if there were no answers to be given. He, much like the Courier, had to know, had to see, had to return. The last true message Ulysses would ever deliver is himself.*

*All couriers have one thing in common. One day, when they reach the final road, they have a choice. Walk that road, see where it'll lead them. Or turn their back on it, walk the opposite direction and stay where they are. They all will inevitably have the need, the desire, to walk yet another road. The final road, which they'll simply fade into the sunset, to go on one last adventure, with no intentions of ever coming back. Ulysses, whether he's a courier or not, had finally wanted to find that very road. But unlike most couriers, Ulysses had gone to hell and back, over and over. Without a doubt, if it's possible, he'll walk that road, and walk right back to the Mojave when he's done. Because nothing has stopped him before, and surely nothing will stop him now.*

*After all, he's the true Courier 6 . . .*

*Ulysses stood in the Silo, simply taking in everything around him. The Courier walked in, who had been looking for Ulysses for over an hour,* "Next time you think about hiding, don't hide all the way in the back of the Divide again. It a nightmare traversing this place, even when I know how to traverse it.", *Ulysses didn't respond. The Courier walked closer,* "Hey, you listening or have you died while standing up?", *Ulysses replied,* "If I ever died, it'd be by your hand. But you spared me that day in '81, so it'll be natural causes that get me one day.". *"*You think nobody will try to kill you?", "Much like Graham, just the mention of my name sometimes strikes fear into the bravest of men and women. Anyone who dares hold a knife, or aim a gun against me, will be buried the next day. Or be marked by the Divide. Big Empty caused the storms here, silos caused the radiation, cracks caused the dust. Some of the Cloud still remains here, makes it all worse.", "Great, want to come back now, or....". *Ulysses didn't know where to go. The Courier continued,* "Let me guess, thinking about home again? Head east, that's where you came from, right?". "East is still Legion territory, Lucius has been made the new Caesar. The Legion hasn’t come this way because of the Enclave occupying most of the Mojave. Elijah and the Ghosts, Beatrice and the Hunters, you and House with the Securitron army, myself with the Divide silos, we all give the Legion a reason not to come here. Instant defeat would be a certainty for them. My history, wiped from existence. My tribe, slaughtered. My home, gone. My pride, a distant memory. I’m no more than an echo of what once was, a lost soul like many who lived in the Old World.” *The Courier was concerned,* “Ulysses, what are you talking about…?”. “The road, longer than we expected. Still needs to be walked, walked to it’s true end. Ages of Mojave dust have since hidden it not only from our view, but our memory as well. What lies at the end? No courier that ever walked it had come back to tell the tale. Like the Divide, or the Madre, maybe even Vegas; a belief that one can start over, only to die lost and alone. All couriers have their own ending, and it leaves me wondering… What ending is at the end of my road?”, *the Courier said,* “Any ending you want. Take me for example; I was just a simple courier paid to give House the Platinum Chip, then I’d walk away. But instead I find myself in the middle of a war. I didn’t have to fight, but I did anyway.”. “You and that chip were made for each other, even though House never intended that. Couldn’t let go, had to keep it, use it. That chip was the true key to vegas, something neither the NCR or Legion could have ever understood.”, *Ulysses paused to think. He thought about himself, how he was relevant to this discussion,* “No way to know where my road will take me, neither does any other courier. Like the divide; uncharted territory, have to walk it to know it’s secrets, to know the way of the land. When you went back to the Mojave, after the launch, had no problem navigating. You knew the land, walked it already. But the road ahead? Forgotten. No man or woman in the wastes knows it’s layout, not even me.”. *The Courier wasn’t what to say. Instead, he continued to ask questions,* “What are you gonna do, then? Walk down some random road and probably die?”, *Ulysses responded somewhat pridefully, with slight sorrow in his voice,* “Not much in the Mojave has proven a worthy opponent to me. Not Colorado, not Denver, not any eastern lands; with or without Legion. The west, said to be powerful, made no difference. I’ve walked many roads, just as much as you, if not more or less. I wander the Divide, walk the High road to Ashton, there and back over and over. Experience makes the travel easy, though a Tunneler or Deathclaw could still tear me apart. Does no good to assume I’m unstoppable, but I’ll let my history speak for itself. Plenty of times I faced death, something I’ve somehow avoided for so many years. When the Divide was cracked, could've died there. But I survived, the Old-World robots saved me. When we stood opposed in the Silo, you could’ve killed me; but you didn’t, showed mercy instead. If I die walking the final road, it’ll be the only passing I accept, only way that’ll I’ll go out. Seems fitting anyway, to end the story where it began. All couriers share that same fate; doesn’t matter where we all go, in the end… We’ll fall where we belong… Buried six feet under, or be covered in western dust.”. *The Courier was slightly annoyed,* “Are you capable of any language other than` ` crazy ass philosophy or…?”. *That comment angered Ulysses, but he quickly calmed himself down. It was true, perhaps he was being confusing. He couldn’t help but laugh,* “Sorry… The end of my road isn’t far ahead, can’t decide if I keep walking or if I stay where I am.”. *The Courier asked,* “And that includes me how…?”, “I hoped you could make things easier, but you didn’t.”. “Ulysses… Tell me what’s wrong.”. *Ulysses hesitated,* “I don’t know.”. *Nova had entered the Silo after looking for the Courier,* “What the fuck are the both of you doing all the way back here?! Do you have any idea how much of a pain in the ass it is to get around the Divide?”, *she lifts up a deathclaw head that she was holding,* “Anyways, ripped this off of an alpha male, might be a nice decoration.”. *The Courier replied,* “Our good friend Ulysses over here is probably having an emotional crisis and now I’m trying to decipher his ramblings, just like the good old days…”, *Nova scowled,* “No offense, but I don’t care what’s going on here. Ulysses is old and annoyingly wise, he’ll handle himself. Ace, back to Vegas.”. *Ulysses concluded,* “If you’re needed in Vegas, go. I’m not leaving, not yet at least. I’ll be here if you want to talk again.”. *The Courier leaned in close to Ulysses and whispered,* “She’ll cuff me to the bed for causing her this much trouble… Got any Med-X?”, *Ulysses replied,* “No, I don’t often use modern medicine.”. *Nova grabbed the Courier’s arm and started to walk towards the exit. The Courier kept talking to Ulysses even while he was being dragged out of the Silo, so Nova covered his mouth with a random cloth,* “Shhhh…”. *Nova giggled as she and the Courier left the Silo, her touch had done something to the implants inside the Courier, making him weak. Ulysses was left alone with his thoughts, unsure what to do now.*

*(In vegas)*

*Sure enough, the Courier was restrained to a bed in the Lucky 38 suite,* “Can we talk about this? I’ve got places to be, things to do, I don’t have tim-”, *Nova interrupted,* “Don’t worry, I cleared your schedule. This’ll feel as great as it will hurt. And besides, you still owe me.”. *The courier was slightly scared,* “Listen, I want this, I do. But you can be… A bit too much…”, *Nova grinned,* “I’m about to redefine ‘too much’, so take notes…”, *she giggled with excitement. The Courier knew it’d be a very long time before he’d leave the suite . . .*

*(The Silo)*

*There was something about this Old-World structure, something special. In the time Ulysses spent here, he tried to figure how why he was so drawn to the Silo, but he received no answer. It angered him, never getting closure to his most important curiosities. This Silo, and the others like it, were made to house weapons of mass destruction. But it’s so much more than that… While humans would take shelter in bunkers and vaults during the Great War, the overall American spirit had a retreat of it’s own. While the nation had burned in hellfire, America still quietly lived on in these underground complexes, filled with old tech and missiles. Missiles that carry the voice of the once great nation. It’s flight, the journey. It’s detonation, the message. Like a courier, like Ulysses, like Ace… In this silo, lies the power to break, or make, a new nation… But that was no longer Ulysses’ focus, now he had a much bigger picture to look at. He recalled everything he’s done, everyone he’s ever met. He pondered his own questions, his own philosophy. He thought about anything and everything until his mind grew tired, and just as he started to fall asleep, he looked up at the night sky shining through the open ceiling of the Silo. A courier is not just a messenger, Ulysses had learned that. A courier, depending on who they are, can be more capable and more powerful than even the largest factions. The stars shined brightly, the Mojave sky was clear unlike anywhere else. Ulysses had eventually stopped thinking, the silence of his mind was the only peace he could ever seem to achieve. Until his peace was interrupted by the growling and soulless moaning of an unknown presence. Ulysses turned around to see who was there, to find a lone Ghost. Red smoke smoothly flowing in and out of it’s mask, the neon green eyes most likely fixated on Ulysses. It seemed to have frozen in place, perhaps to evaluate the situation, or perhaps out of fear. If it understood who it was observing, it surely knew it wouldn't win a fight against Ulysses. It holstered it’s weapon, straightened it’s posture a bit, and tilted it’s head. Ulysses would assume it’s just a normal Ghost. After all, they aren’t exactly hostile creatures, not any more at least. But the weapon it carried convinced Ulysses otherwise. It was an unusually sharp machete, the handle wrapped in red cloth and a golden Legion insignia on the base of the blade. For the first time in a very long time, Ulysses was scared. And his history has seemed to have come back to haunt him, all over again . . .*