I walked up to the door, and unsurprisingly, the door was locked, and the windows and broken glass doors were covered up from the inside in wooden boards and metal sheets.

"Uh, hello?"

I waited there for another fifteen minutes before yelling again, and finally someone opened the door. "Get in. He's been waiting for y-" "Yeah, I know." Walking in, the place was a disaster. Broken arcade machines were lying about, some of them not even upright, and wrinkled, ripped, and damaged comic books were scattered, making the dirty tile floor barely visible. "This way," the man said as he motioned towards a staircase leading down, "The real deal's in the basement."

I went down the stairs, shocked to find a fully functional arcade, its dimly lit room illuminated solely by the bright screens. The smell of pizza drafted through the air, and a lone raider situated at a counter sipped from a beer mug. "Just what the heck is going on here?"

"We chose to follow the man who called you here," the man said as I followed him. "and this is one of many rewards he has to offer for our loyalty." Moving on down along the arcade, we finally came up to a door, and opening it up, he ushered me in.

"Go in, this is where he is."

A man sat down in an old cushioned office chair with puffs of cotton beginning to creep out of it, and a crinkly newspaper obscured my view of his face. The first thing I noticed was that, wrapped around the newspaper, were a pair of mechanical hands.

November 22, 1963

"Ah, you must be the new blood," he said casually.

"How are you capable of all of this?!" He kicked up a foot into his desk.

"That's something that won't be necessary for you to know for quite some time. All you need to know for now is this:"

One of his guards came up behind me and took me down to the floor, sticking a syringe into my neck.

"At any moment that I wish, I can cause the new nanites in your blood to detonate."

He chuckled a bit.

"W-well, w-what... what the heck do you want from me?!"

"That's simple... I want you to continue the mission of your processor... to retrieve the bomb!

"And if I refuse?"

"I push the button that ends your life." Great. Then I guess the choice has been made.

"Fine." He got up, putting down the newspaper on his desk.

"That's fantastic. Now, let's get on with your first mission." I still didn't get a good look at his face because he turned around too quickly, pushing open a hidden door in the wall. "This," he said, "is my private armory."

Looking around, there were all kinds of diverse weaponry; strange guns, missile launchers, even simpler weapons like knives and sledgehammers.

"This... this is crazy!"

"No... what you're getting is over there," he said with a point of his finger.