Desmond would know.

As Desmond suddenly regained consciousness, he was shivering in the odd Pod, and outside his lack of insight, the pods had been designed to let in trace amounts of radiation while the contents were frozen, and Desmond’s slowly unmelting form showed it full ****.

As Desmond pulled an oddly large fist back in the, also, oddly smaller Pod, he sent the glass paneling of the Cryo-Pod from its hinges, smashing into the wall, as Desmond stepped his abnormally large form from the Pod.

As he stood at full height, he was a full foot taller, and was quite heavier from pure muscle alone.

As he was looking at his engorged form, he noticed one specific member that had also grown, to a girthy twelve inches of meat. This brought a grin to Desmond’s face, but as he gazed at his form, as the pale blue of his frozen form faded, he saw an odd green tinge coating him.

As he saw this, Desmond realized he’d been radiated, and significantly at that, but how did he survive? Maybe he was the main character? As Desmond started laughing to himself, he resolved himself to escape from the Vault, as he started shoving the rubble from the passage.

After many hours of moving rubble, he reached the elevator, and upon pressing the button, he waited for a moment, before, to his surprise, the door actually opened, and he entered it, pressing the highest floor’s button.

And after a moment of the elevator shifting, it began its ascension, and as it reached the surface, the door opened, and Desmond was met with the obvious desolation of a significant crater around the Vault, as the structure above ground was nearly fully demolished.

As Desmond emerged from the newly quite cramped elevator, he looked around, before walking off into a random direction.

As he was strutting through the desolate wastes of the crater, he reached the border of it, as he began climbing out of the hole.

After a moment of struggling, he deigned to try jumping, and he leapt at least thirty feet past the crater’s ledge, rolling to avoid the impact, which had the ground crumbling under his weight.

As he stood from the tumble, he shook the dust off of him, as he started sprinting through the empty surroundings.

…

After three months, Desmond had reached his hometown, finally walking past the door of his somewhat idyllic abode, stumbling over the messy interior, to his bedroom, as he crumbled onto the familiar mattress.

After many sleepless nights, he had finished this one leg of his journey, but that meant the time for his rest was upon him.

So, after sleeping the entire day away, he pondered the few survivors he had encountered through the trip, seven different people had tried to attack him, like some ignorant mutant threat, as if he wasn’t actively speaking to them, he’d had to slay them all, gathering their goods throughout the journey, leading to a somewhat sizable stockpile of loot.

As Desmond awoke from his restful slumber, he rose from the broken bed, as he walked to the kitchen, grabbing a somehow still cold beer from the fridge, before guzzling it down, utterly unaffected, as usual.

Then, Desmond got the bright idea to search for stronger drinks.

He decided he’d travel to a nearby Super-Duper Mart, to scour through the available beverages, but if that didn’t work, he’d travel a bit further to reach the Rough Rider Brewery, a staple of North Dakota, and a somewhat common meeting place for the few survivors he’d maintained contact with from the countless conflicts he’d seen.

After an hour of silently traversing the barren terrain, he’d reached an uninhabited structure, the local Super-Duper Mart, and as he quietly made his entrance, Desmond made his way through the store, grabbing a bag, shoveling countless goodies into it, before making his way to the booze.

As Desmond was standing before the seemingly untouched **** aisle, he strutted through it, finding and pilfering each and every item he was interested in.

After an hour of plundering, Desmond was walking from the building with three Super-Duper Mart branded bookbags stuffed to the brim with various snacks and beverages.

…

After nearly four hours of silently creeping through the darkened streets of his home city, he made it to his house, but found the door busted down, and after a moment, over a dozen fully equipped militaresque personnel burst from the broken door, no lights were visible, but they moved with expertise.