No one remembers how it started. By the time it mattered, it no longer did. The War had dragged on for years. Borders were redrawn in blood and cities were emptied, until the nations of the world, desperate for an ending, reached for the weapons they had sworn never to use. Nuclear fire lit the skies, engineered plagues drifted on the wind. For a moment it seemed to have worked, and the fighting stopped, but the poisoning didn't. Plants grew twisted, animals turned into things that had no names and people changed too, though never in the same way. Some were untouched, some went mad, many simply died. The lucky few who changed differently woke to find something new inside them, a power unlike anyone else’s. They called these gifts Manifests, no two ever alike. The world that rose from the ashes of that war would come to be known as The Fallout.