The Case for Fallout: New Tokyo

Fallout is an amazing universe, inhabited by interesting stories, intriguing decisions, and characters so complex, they defy natural laws. In all honesty though, Fallout: New Vegas was a bit of a cop-out. Not to say it was bad, clearly it wasn't, but as the pundits put it, it didn't distinguish itself from its over-shadowing big brother. To inject new life into the experience, I propose the next Fallout be based in a relatively unscathed and rapidly rebuilt Tokyo. Three things people dig; the post-apocalypse, Neo Tokyo, and zombies. The latter, will be omitted on terms of overuse, unless you consider ghouls as zombies, you insensitive bastard.

Picture this: when the bombs fall, Tokyo, thinking far enough ahead to minimize the damage, deploys an experimental energy shield over the city. Having been tested successfully with non-WMD class armaments, as well as low grade nuclear weapons, the shield was only able to mitigate the destruction wrought upon Tokyo and its surrounding prefectures by the unprecedented megatons. Buildings are destroyed, ways of life are drastically changed, adversity and hardship reign, but the town is better off than its Western counterparts.

As one of the Far East's most sought after hubs, New Tokyo is a city-state ruled by corruption, false senses of justice, and in brief instances, the genuine compassion for fellow man. The "shielded" areas, which are technically unscathed, are few and far between, predominantly operated by the rich, the powerful, and those who have told the right things to the right people. The meat of New Tokyo consists of varying degrees of damaged sections, ranging from the working class, militia-contained neighborhoods, to ragged, crime infested slums. Areas where the shield fully gave out serve as your token wasteland, offering little more than a compromising avenue between districts that have seen better days. Though as adventures tend to go, the explorer who risks his well being to search the wasteland is always well rewarded, one way or another.

Down on luck, out of money, and on the bad side of some very angry people, you escape your troubles aboard a junk that provides uninsured freight and ferry from a port of the scandalous and unsavory Macau, where you once found a decent living on the wrong half of the law. Cramped away on the lower confines of the ship that would make human trafficking look luxurious, and in transit for what feels like weeks, something suddenly jars you from your hazy trance. You feel a bump, and a hear a a creaking pulse run through the ship. Your trip was one of the favorable, you hit land, and have safely arrived in New Tokyo. So you thought. Before your eyes half of the ship dematerializes in a crackle of yellow energy, leaving only neon embers and a broken junk rapidly sinking into the unseasonably warm irradiated waters of the black night.

You come to on a gravelly beach, the orange sun piercing your dry eyes like a wooden skewer. Your vision is blurred, your ears are ringing, and your brain is beating like a hangover you've never felt. You stand up and stumble aimlessly, sightlessly. As you slowly regain your bearings, you realize looters have stripped you down to your tattered jeans and punctured wife-beater, taking your meager belongings of value and memory. Confused, your dim senses are caught off guard by a man who shoves a dismembered finger, complete with gold wedding band, into your chest, and collapses on you.

"50 million caps.. Lee Joon.. Kabuki City.. Go..!"

Before you can even react to the shock of a detached finger, the man coughs a bucket of blood on your only shirt, and fades to black. No possessions, no directions, no one in sight, and no where to go. You have nothing, except for a severed finger, your slowly sobering wit, and a lead on 50 million. So pick your name, adjust your appearance, and pick a direction to walk, because you have a lot of decisions to make and a lot of questions that need to be answered.