A Mutant becomes aware in Jacobstown. His friend Marcus was surprised to find out that he could read suddenly. The effects of FEV on the mind never ceases to amaze him. He helped the peculiar mutant by providing him with books hoping it would help heal his broken mind. The mutant who had no name poured through pre-war books. He was determined to learn more about humans and figure out why the meek little creatures not only thrived, but even threatened his own existence. The most satisfied he’s been with an answer came from an old book. In fact, he believed it to be the oldest book in the human history, and there was no shortage of copies in the ruins of human civilization. He ascertained that the book had great value to the humans, just not today’s human since they left them around. His favorite character was a man named Moses, he took the name himself. He related to his plight. His people were saved from plague and pestilence, while the ruling elite suffered. Sickness has always plagued humans, and despite there being no shortage of food in the wasteland, it was all poison to them. The humans were his Ramses, a distant relative cursed, but unrelenting. The more mutants pushed against humans, the harder they retaliated. When Moses the human came across a similar unstoppable force, he took his people and wandered into the desert. His oppressors could not follow him. Moses the Mutant needed to wander, as far from humans as he could. The others may think they’re safe so long as they remain hidden and non-hostile. But humans would find them, mutants needed to find a place where humans dare not venture. Moses the Mutant was able to convince some other mutants to follow him away from humans. Most laughed, others groaned that humans taste best, some just didn’t understand why a mutant who’d spend so much time reading would want to be so far from humans; reading is one of the most human things to do. He still had a small tribe of a dozen mutants and headed East into the desert. In his travels stray mutants would join their caravan, adding to his tribe. They avoided conflict with humans, but they had no problem fighting them when Moses the Mutant could not convince them to let his tribe be on their way. As the tribe grew, he used his knowledge of humans to better equip them. His favorite book didn’t have pictures, but his second favorite book which discussed ancient human gods did. His tribe fashioned armor and weapons best they could to reflect his favorite ancient human tribe, the Vikings. He told his people tales from his favorite books. They became the most excited for tales of Thor and Valhalla. As they continued East, Moses noted when it has been two months since they’ve encountered a human. He kept going. He expected his tribe to become impatient, but the caravan of sixty-eight super mutants did not mind the exodus. The wasteland always provided beasts for nourishment and their blood was all the water necessary. Moses the Mutant began to wonder if perhaps the nomadic life was meant for them. He had never travelled this far, perhaps all mankind was behind him. But he saw a sign that he found his land. In the year two thousand and seventy-eight. A Mutant named Spike had it in his brain to wander West. Once he emerged from the ground and set his eyes on the setting sun, he decided to follow it. Spike had simpler motivations to wander to no fault of his own. His brain did not handle the FEV well. He was different from other mutants. He had no desire to communicate, no desire to stop for anything. He just ate, barely slept and kept following the sunset. Not being very aware of his surroundings, he fell into a mud-pit that he couldn’t escape and became trapped, never to be found. Unbeknownst to Spike, he was an anomaly even for a super mutant. The FEV would not let him die. He evolved to root his body into the mud-pit and collect nutrients from the ground. It barely sustained him. Trapped as he was, he still longed to see and follow the sunset. His desire created a perversion of a flower, starting with an eye stalk that poked up from the mud-pit. Photosynthesis was not at play, but the repulsive tree grew a few inches every sunset. Spike watched it, straining his eye. He was able to sprout more eye stalks from the mud and tried his hardest to get his body from the pit. He didn’t know it was impossible, he didn’t understand the strain he put on himself each sunset to get out of the mud, was rooting him in deeper. His determination formed a macabre forest over the years. He devoured other plant life from the ground and replaced them with overgrown humanoid parts. It was most common for him to grow in the form of hands and skulls, as he was constantly trying to pull himself out of the ground. As Spike’s forest moved West, he left the parts he sprouted to rot, leaving behind towering bone structures. The rotting woodland attracted wildlife. It would seem that nothing would stop Spike from following the sunset, but then one day he just stopped growing. Eventually all that remained of spike was a network of skeletal limbs that stretched about three acres. Of course, Moses the Mutant knew nothing of Spike when their paths converged. He was taken back by the scene. This is where a human dare not travel. He didn’t keep track of how far East he’d come. It can’t be said for certain where the freakish sight was on a map. It was the promised land to him. He proudly pulled out his second favorite book and showed his followers. “Jotun!” He declared.
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