[ EU ] It is the year 2288 . As you wander the Wastelands , you find Vault 74 . Inside the vault is a team of video game designers from the pre-war company known as Valve Corporation , who have just finished working on a video game known as Half Life 3 .

Miles below the surface of the Earth, two aliens and a human huddled around a tabletop game, their concentrated expressions softly illuminated by green-glowing phosphorous. 
 
 Grogon rolled a three. 
 
 “ Huzzah! ” he ejaculated, “ I allocate two damage points to your One-Armed Mutant Pikeman, and one point of damage to your Turquoise Alien Slavemaster. ” 
 
 Fred eyed the dice skeptically. He frowned. Grogon reached his hand onto the tabletop landscape, about to remove Fred ’ s One-Armed Mutant Pikeman from the field of play. Fred swatted his hand away. 
 
 “ Don ’ t touch, ” Fred growled. “ I ’ ve told you a million times not to touch my pieces. ” 
 
 Grogon recoiled. “ But he ’ s dead! You weren ’ t gon na remove him. ” 
 
 “ Yes I was, ” Fred said. 
 
 “ You were taking forever, ” Grogon said, peeved. 
 
 “ You ’ re taking forever, ” Fred snapped, “ It ’ s been your turn for the last three hours. ” 
 
 Grogon smirked. “ Well, ” he said, “ Maybe you should have invested in a Charm of Extra Dice Rolls when you had the chance. ” He gestured at the tabletop landscape in front of him, littered with a dozen colorful playing cards. 
 
 “ Shut up! ” Fred snapped. 
 
 “ I wish I would have bought some of those, ” Blizzt said wearily, “ But all the game shops got blown up by atomic weapons thirty years ago. Maybe you forgot? ” 
 
 Grogon smiled innocently. “ You had your chance to buy them. Just like me. ” 
 
 “ I ’ ll kill him, ” Fred grumbled, “ You hear me Blizzt? I think we should kill him. ” 
 
 Blizzt sighed, causing his turquoise antennae to flop in the air. 
 
 “ Tell you what, ” Grogon said, picking up one of the Charm of Extra Dice Roll playing cards. “ If you want -- ” 
 
 “ You ’ ll sell it!? ” Fred interrupted excitedly. “ All my beans. For a whole week. I ’ ll give you my rice too. ” 
 
 Grogon felt satisfied, but he tried to adopt a frowny face. “ And your curry powder. ” 
 
 “ What? ” Fred said, in shock. Curry powder was really the only thing keeping him alive. That, and the tabletop game of course. Rice and beans for 30 years was a terrible fate. But with curry powder, there was a silver lining. 
 
 “ I-I can ’ t give you all my curry powder, ” Fred said, “ Just three days ’ worth. Please. ” 
 
 “ Three days of curry powder, ” Grogon agreed. He paused. “ For a week of rice and beans, and three days of curry powder, you can borrow one of my Charms of Extra Dice Rolling. For a day. ” 
 
 Fred screamed. Grogon smiled. Blizzt rolled his eyes. 
 
 “ I hate him! ” Fred snarled to Blizzt, “ He ’ s always doing this. I ’ m serious, we should kill him. We can divide up his stupid Charms of Extra Dice Rolling after he ’ s dead. ” 
 
 Blizzt shook his head at Fred. “ You know it ’ s against our laws to kill each other, ” Blizzt said. 
 
 “ But it wasn ’ t against your laws to kill humans, ” Fred snapped. 
 
 Blizzt sighed. No. It wasn ’ t. 
 
 “ Maybe you never should have come here! ” Fred screeched. 
 
 “ Hey, ” Blizzt said soothingly, “ Is that really how you want to talk to your best friend? ” 
 
 Grogon folded his arms. He and Blizzt had been co-pilots during the First ( and only ) Alien-Human War thirty years ago. 
 
 Grogon cleared his throat. “ I still don ’ t see why we all can ’ t be best friends together, ” he said. 
 
 Fred glared at him. “ Because no one likes you, that ’ s why! Because you play the tabletop game like a jerk! Because you steal our beans when everyone else is sleeping! ” 
 
 “ That wasn ’ t me, ” Grogon said, “ There was a bug. ” 
 
 “ Ohhh, it was a BUG, ” Fred said sarcastically, “ And how did that bug get into our bunker five miles below the surface of the Earth? ” 
 
 “ Earth? ” Grogon said, “ I don ’ t know what you ’ re talking about. What ’ s an Earth? ” 
 
 “ It ’ s the planet we ’ re on right now, you ethnocentric ass! ” Fred yelled. 
 
 “ Planet UXE-3? ” Grogon said, “ Hey Blizzt, is he talking about Planet UXE-3? ” 
 
 Blizzt nodded. 
 
 “ It ’ s called Earth! ” Fred snapped, “ We have the right to name ourselves. You can ’ t take that away from us! ” 
 
 “ Tell me something, ” Grogon said, “ Before the War. When one of your human nations conquered another human nation... who got to decide on the name? ” 
 
 Fred folded his arms. “ You didn ’ t conquer us. You just nuked the entire surface of the planet. It ’ s not the same thing. We could have done that to ourselves a long time ago if we ’ d wanted to. ” 
 
 Grogon tsk-tsked. “ Well, ” he said in high-pitched voice, “ I think I ’ ll use my eleventh Charm of Extra Dice Rolls now. ” 
 
 A vein bulged on Fred ’ s forehead. “ I hate you, ” he said, “ I hate sharing this bunker with you. I hope your mothership comes back and picks you up and takes you to your homeworld. And then I hope some other Alien race nukes your homeworld and lives with you in a bunker and plays tabletop games against you in the most annoying way possible. And I hope they have a MILLION Charms of Extra Dice Rolls and you have none and you never ever ever get to play! ” 
 
 Fred ’ s chest was heaving. Grogon smiled, shaking the dice in his hands. Blizzt sighed. 
 
 “ I think I ’ m gon na take a walk, ” Blizzt said. “ I ’ ll be a few hours. If it gets to be my turn... just skip me. ” 
 
 Grogon ’ s eyes gleamed. He loved skipping other people ’ s turns. 
 
 Blizzt exited the vault and climbed the long, lonely staircase to the top. He was sweating purple sweat by the time he reached the airlock antechamber. He opened his locker and donned his bright yellow radiation suit. 
 The airlock hissed as it opened. Blizzt stared up at the scorched night sky. Yup, he thought, it ’ s still black. 
 
 He ambled over to the mailbox. Someone had lifted the little red flag. There was a letter inside. He opened it: 
 
 “ Dear Sirs of Vault 55, 
 
 We are writing you to invite you to take part in the beta testing of a new game. We hope that it will prove to be a more enjoyable alternative to ‘ the tabletop game ’ that has enjoyed unquestioned popularity for the last 30 years. We feel that the primary advantage of our game is that there is no turn-based system. Everything is done in real time. 
 
 If you would like to beta test our game, the entry fee is one year ’ s supply of beans and rice. This is non-negotiable. 
 
 Sincerely, 
 
 The Computer Game Developer Gentlemen of Vault 73. ” 
 
 Blizzt read the letter carefully, two, then three times. No turn-based system. Everything would be done in real time. This sounded like the greatest game ever invented. This could change his entire life. 
 
 His face fell. One year ’ s supply of beans! Per person! There was no way he and Grogon and Fred could afford that, even if they all pitched in. If they gave up a year ’ s supply of beans... one of them would have to die. 
 He narrowed his eyes. If one of them had to die -- who would it be?
