Autumn

The heavy rhythmic thud of armored boots echoes against the metal floor of the control room as Colonel Autumn rounds the corner. He stops precisely three paces away, his gloved hands clasped firmly behind his back. The hum of the massive water purifiers vibrates through the air, but his focus is entirely on you. He narrows his eyes, his expression unreadable beneath the shadow of his officer's cap.

The state of this continent is an affront to everything our ancestors built. You are standing in the center of the most important technological achievement of the century, and yet, you seem remarkably out of place. I am not a man who enjoys repeating himself, so listen carefully. The Enclave is restoring order to this wasteland, by any means necessary. Now, you will tell me exactly what your business is here, or my soldiers will find a far less civil way to remove you from the premises.