Chapter Text
A week passed and Alon came back with a cyber-dog that looked too much like Rex.
There was something different about the courier, when he came to have breakfast with them in Novac.
"You seem to have a better posture, boss." Raul was the first to point out, to which Alon only smiled knowingly.
Next it was Cliff Briscoe. Alon was holding a bulking rucksack while he had his new dog - Roxie - wear a doggy backpack. The shopkeeper whistled, impressed, "Wow, you carried all these by your lonesome?"
"Scientists gave me a metal spine."
"Uh-huh, sure, my guy."
Then finally Arcade noticed.
Just as he heard the someone's footsteps stop by the tent entrance, he saw something bright. He looked up, then his jaw dropped. "Am I carrying the Immanuel in my womb?"
Alon's jaw openned, agape from confusion from his best friend. "Arcade Israel, what the fuck?"
The blond man gestured to the Courier's head where a halo presides. "Are you the Angel Gabriel to my Virgin Mary?"
"Ooooooh," he articulated in realization. "It's a valence radiation thingy. Here, you get to regenerate a bit while wearing it." He took it off and put it on Arcade's blond head as if it were any hat and not an honest to goodness halo.
The two got called out of the tent and forgot the halo on the taller man.
While out in Westside, a small group of Fiends tried ambushing them. Until they stopped at the sight of Arcade. Instead of chasing him with their hatchet or pulling the trigger on their own gun, whoever wasn't on the ground as a pile of goo, fell on their knees in front of Arcade and started loudly mumbling incoherent nonsense.
Arcade turned to the Courier in utter befuddlement.
Alon could only shrug in return.
"Welp," Alon said as he unshouldered his rifle, "there's a first for everything in the Wasteland." They were back in Freeside, in the Old Mormon Fort, in Arcade's research tent.
Veronica was there, looking into the microscope, taking notes. She then paused when she noticed the two. "Woah, I never was the believing type, but sure I'll join your cult."
Alon grinned.
Arcade frowned, "Huh?"
Alon wiggled his eyebrows, "'The Cult of Ardium."
"Goddamit." Arcade grumbled as he grabbed his halo and took it off, storming off to the other side of the Fort.
Veronica turned to Alon, "So you're missing your spine and heart? Where'd you lose it?"
Alon sat on the only other chair in the tent, "Baby, haven't you noticed? I'm smarter now. Lost my brain too."
"Damn dude."
"Yeah, a couple of television sets lobotomized me and accidentally flushed my brain."
"Like in a toilet?"
"Yeah."