Fallout Unsheltered: Ol' Road 120 (CYOA)

Vault 120.

Your home. Your heart.

Your… crumbling mess of a Vault, slowly breaking down from increasingly frequent fusion reactor failures.

But hey, it’s still home, right?

Your damp, cozy little shelter that’s been sealed shut for the past 287 years. No one inside really knows what’s out there, and why would they? Thanks to E.D.E.N. (or "Environmental Development & Ecological Nexus"), the supercomputer AI (and optionally, Vault Overseer) running the Vault’s cutting-edge greenhouse and self-sustaining environment systems, you’ve stayed perfectly self-sufficient for nearly three centuries.

Vault 120 wasn’t originally built for survival. It was meant as an experiment in long-term, self-sustaining communities, a test run for the day humanity would terraform Mars… or maybe even farther. Instead, it’s stumbled through the apocalypse like a well-fed raccoon that found its way into an endlessly stocked pantry.

That is, until E.D.E.N.’s power stations began reaching the end of their lifespan. Without spare parts or proper expertise for part replication, even the most critical systems have reached the absolute end of possible maintenance, still powering through from little more than wishful thinking.

And that’s where you come in.

You’re a 5’8” pink-haired woman with a round, feminine face and deep pink eyes. Your unblemished skin catch the light, and your short, practical haircut keeps your vision clear. The Vault 120 jumpsuit fits snugly against your lithe frame, clinging tightly to your shapely butt, its blue fabric barely creasing as you move. Your heavy E cup swings as you move, pressing against your tight jumpsuit. Out of all the Vault Dwellers in 120, your G.O.A.T. results came the closest to matching E.D.E.N.’s preset criteria for “Unknown Ecosystem Exploration.” Which is a fancy way of saying: “Congrats, you’re the least likely to immediately die out there.”

So, naturally, she picked you to recover a Fusion Reactor Maintenance Kit. E.D.E.N. believes your best chance is to locate the ruins of a Mass Fusion corporate headquarters.

You own a 10mm handgun, a tattered map and two stimpaks. Your Pip-Boy hums quietly on your wrist, its display confirming you’re in good health, free of injury or radiation. Your Standard Vault-Tec jumpsuit (number 120) is intact.

The first steps into the surface world sting... Sunlight glares against your eyes, the heat pressing through your jumpsuit. You pull out the map, its edges brittle with age. It’s over two centuries old, a general state layout that offers little guidance. You decide to head toward the remains of the nearest city.

After hours of walking, you crest a slope and freeze. Below, a group of armed women have surrounded a lone figure: a woman with striking, vibrant pink twin-tails.

She’s on her knees, clearly disarmed and outnumbered, her posture heavy with defeat. Her slightly sun-kissed skin is entirely bare, and she seems to have little equipment beyond a belt. Her large breasts could fill a II cup.

Do you approach, or leave?