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Vault 97 Surveillance Index

• Subject: Lucy – Reinstated. Stable. Compliant.

• Subject: Pip – Accelerated growth. Highly adaptive. No known loyalty.

• Subject: Penny – Reassigned quarters. Deteriorating.

• Subject: Overseer Whitmore – Deceased. Status: maintained.

• Note: Emotional anomalies increasing. Observation recommended.

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She came back weak. Scarred. Wrapped in what was left of a broken love.

At first, it might’ve been about revenge. Balancing scales. Feeling in control.

But that feeling—control—tasted better than she remembered.

Soon, it wasn’t about Whitmore. Or Krieger. Or what they did to her.

It wasn’t even about justice.

It was about the hurt.

About watching something powerful wither.

About turning the lens back on the man who once filmed her fall.

She started small: filming Whitmore’s decline.

But she didn’t stop. She couldn’t.

Pain became currency. Suffering, her script.

Not because it was fair. Not because it made sense.

Because it felt good.

The past stopped mattering. Krieger’s face, a blur. Her own trauma, static.

All that remained was the question:

Who’s next?

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Lucy’s Return

She came back alone. Soaked from the storm, wearing the ghoul’s coat like a scar. No fight left—just fear.

Lucy thinks if she stays close to Whitmore, she can’t be hurt. So she does what he asks. Cleans up. Records the others. Watches Penny unravel.

Hope glitches across the room like a ghost. Whitmore never blinks. Lucy doesn’t question any of it. She just keeps filming.

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Observation File – Subject P. (Pip) / Overseer Whitmore

Before he was a puppet, he was a prodigy.

Pip didn’t just follow orders—he absorbed them.

Back straight, hands behind his back, eyes gleaming with pride.

He loved to learn. He wanted to please.

The Overseer, once so calculated and distant,

found something new in the boy.

Not just obedience. Not just potential.

But belief.

Someone who listened. Admired. Trusted him.

Whitmore’s crimson chamber walls held whispered lessons:

morality twisted into strategy,

control framed as safety,

compassion repackaged as weakness.

And Pip repeated it all back, word for word.

Eager. Intelligent. Malleable.

But in the final room—failed experiment storage—

the boy’s hand touched his chin, thoughtful.

The Overseer hesitated.

Had he gone too far? Shown him too much?

Then: a glitch.

And Pip, so full of learned purpose,

threw himself into Whitmore’s arms.

It wasn’t control. It wasn’t programming.

It was… affection. Real, messy, human.

And for a flicker of time, Whitmore—

the same man who drained others for power—

stood frozen.

Not by fear. But by something deeper.

He didn’t know he could still be loved.

Especially by a synth.

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The Lone Wanderer came from the surface — a world of chaos, radiation, and survival by any means.

Here in the vault, he found order, safety, and rules to cling to.

He believes those walls protect them all.

He doesn’t understand why Penny, born in this very place, resists.

“You were born here. You don’t know the outside like I do. Why can’t you just follow the rules?”

But Penny sees the vault for what it really is: a cage.

Her anger is born from fear — not for herself, but for Hope.

The girl who wasn’t born, but made; a synth trapped in a toddler’s body.

For her defiance, Penny was banished to Lucy’s old room —

a cold reminder of betrayal and control.

The walls still whisper secrets and regrets she can’t escape.

Through the window, Hope watches them argue —

her gaze falling to her toes, sadness weighing heavy.

Then, almost glitching, she spins, arms wide, forcing a smile,

a programmed mask to survive the cold reality.

Behind her, Pip sits detached,

his eyes fixed on flickering static, indifferent to the fractured family.

He’s learning to obey, to ignore the chaos,

clinging to the safety of rules and routine.

In this fractured vault, even family is a battlefield.

And no one truly wins.

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Security Log: CAM-04 / Upper Vault Stairwell

05:47 hrs – Subject P. observed trailing Subject H. toward surface stairwell.

05:48 hrs – Minor signal interference detected.

05:48:22 – [GLITCH]

05:49 hrs – Subject P. descends stairs. Now older. Attire unchanged. No data recorded during transition.

Observation file flagged.

Request for manual review denied by Overseer Whitmore.

Update logged under “Scheduled Advancement.”

Note: Subject H. remains unchanged. Update cycle permanently paused.

No candles. No cake. No celebration. Just a skipped frame — and a child no longer a child.

They didn’t want a birthday. They wanted progress.

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Episode 10: “Unauthorized Presence Detected”

Footage retrieved from external vault perimeter, 04:39 hrs.

Subject: Unidentified canine. No ID chip detected.

Behavior: Non-aggressive. Stationary. Watching.

Threat level: Low.

Emotional response recorded in Subject H.

Flagged for observation.

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Another child has appeared in the vault. Not born. Delivered.

A boy, already walking. Already watching. Black hair, same eyes.

Hope has not acknowledged him. She doesn’t look. She doesn’t speak.

He plays alone in the shadows. She plays alone in the light.

His name is Pip.

Why is he here?

▫ To test her?

▫ To learn from her—or teach her?

▫ To replace her?

▫ Or… to merge?_

No one in the vault is asking questions.

The cameras are recording.

The experiment continues.

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VAULT 97 - INTERNAL USE ONLY

SURF-FEED//ERROR//D7

TUNNEL ACCESS: UNAUTHORIZED

TRAIL LOST

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No one remembers the first attempt.

No one survives the last.

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She shouldn’t be up there.

The Vault feed cuts at the stairwell.

Another signal picks her up—clearer than it should be.

She sits in the ash, flipping through a pop-up book of things that never were.

Behind her: flame, rot, the bones of a world she was never born into.

At the far edge of the property, Lucy hunches in a rusted shack, typing messages no one answers.

The camera drifts.

No one knows who’s holding it.

Or why it followed her.

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🌫️ Group P: Observation Log #0427

They call it the garden room.

Blue walls painted like the sky, clouds drifting across plaster.

A soft mat of tiny trees. Fake grass beneath. A blue lamp shaped like a single cloud.

It feels open. It isn’t.

Hope plays silently beneath the lamp.

Her yellow eyes blink slowly—pupils thin, reptilian.

They reflect the painted world around her, but never quite belong to it.

At night, her eyes glow softly in the dark. The cameras catch it even when the lights are off.

Penny watches the plant wall.

Staring like it might open. Like she might remember what it means to breathe real air.

Some say Hope is growing too fast. Others say she isn’t growing at all.

But no one asks the real question.

No one asks what she is.

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No one remembers when Dr. Krieger started to fade.

Only that Whitmore’s hair grew brighter. The grey receded, starting with the beard. The weight in his posture lifted. His reflection smiled back sharper.

It wasn’t sudden. Just… timed. Deliberate.

One man rotting into reverence. The other gleaming with stolen youth.

The footage from Group E shows them — close. Closer than they should be.

Then it cuts.

In Medical, Krieger is aged. Whitmore, transformed.

A hand is raised. The vault pretends it didn’t see.

Group P doesn’t question. Group E is too afraid.

But Lucy knows. She’s seen the pattern.

They say Whitmore never dirties his hands.

They lie.

Krieger would give him everything. Even time.

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Hope was taken upstairs today. No one was told why. No one asked.

Footage tampered.

Group P are getting… too comfortable. Lucy’s resistance is spreading in whispers. Whitmore knows the best way to control people is fear — and nothing causes fear like risking the only innocent thing left down here.

So he takes Hope to the surface. He doesn’t need to say what might happen next.

He just lets them imagine.

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Medical. CAM 1. 02:42:16

Overseer Whitmore. Dr. Krieger.

No dialogue. No interaction. Just… this.

Whitmore doesn’t do the dirty work. He watches. Waits. Keeps his hands clean.

But they forget: he’s not from here. Not from now.

He was already a man in power before the bombs. Now? He’s something else entirely—something preserved, protected, untouchable.

Dr. Krieger is more than his right hand. He’s loyal. Silent. Some say servant. Others say… something worse.

They say Whitmore only acts when things spiral out of his control.

That’s when you see what’s behind the smile.

That’s when people disappear.

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In the hollow stillness of Group E, Lucy’s life is a glass cage—visible, vulnerable. After her last escape attempt, Dr. Krieger was assigned to the apartment next door. The vault says it’s punishment. A warning. That anyone can be sent down here.

But that’s a lie.

They shared a moment. Brief. Quiet. A kiss across the glass.

The Overseer saw everything.

He entered her room. Said nothing. And then he struck her.

In Vault 97, nothing is accidental. Nothing is private. And nothing—no matter how small—goes unpunished.

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Hope is born!

Hope is more than just a name in Vault 97 — she’s the latest piece in an unholy experiment.

Already, the Overseer has whisked her from the cradle, sending her to witness the wasteland beyond — a world she will never truly know, but one that will shape her destiny.

Behind glass walls, Lucy watches helplessly as Hope’s tiny hands press against the cold pane, the child’s innocence framed by a prison of observation and control.

Penny and the Lone Wanderer have begun the fragile dance of parenthood, bonding quietly amid the constant, unseen eyes.

Meanwhile, the Sims maintain the vault’s fake garden — a fragile illusion of life and normality — as Dr. Krieger prowls the shadows below, conducting ghostly experiments under the Overseer’s ever-watchful gaze. His eerie dances to the radio in front of Hope belie a darkness that lurks just beneath the surface.

In Vault 97, hope is a luxury. But for how long?