Shortly after emerging from Vault 111, it's only survivor, a pre-war man, referring to himself as "Verikoira", came in contact with two incorporeal, otherwordly beings, who turned out to be remnants of certain wastelanders from different areas of the continent, New California and Washington D.C., unwillingly becoming their host. To all of them their nature was beyond their understanding, bending all laws of physics and logic, keeping them stuck between life and death, clashing with fiber of reality itself.
Their worldly paths were seemingly long over, but some unnameable force intertwined into order of things, resuming their existance in this strange new post-mortal form, tethering their essence to this mundane, unremarkable person, making him a beacon in material world.
Now they reside in his mind, imbuing him with all kinds of horrific, disturbing knowledge of their life paths and way of life in the wasteland as a whole, granting him new unfathomable powers, taking a huge toll on his mental wellbeing, changing him irreversibly. This manifested in his ability to know more of his surroundings from his ghosts, making it impossible to ambush him, increasing his effective field of view, they all gained ability to protrude translucent chains from their bodies, being able to interact only with each other.
Vault dweller's brain could not handle this load of maintaing multiple consciousnesses, with time their memories started fusing, manifesting in form of visual and audial hallucinations, he saw periodically during his journey. This warped, disfigured amalgamations of people and creatures from their memories haunted his mind, bringing him immense pain and anxiety in his everyday life.
Ghosts helped him distinguish what is real, for most part, but worst of all, living in constant state of stress in fear for his life made him turn into something different - agressive, violet, bloodthirsty thing, rushing forward eager to spill blood and consume flesh, incredibly strong, unable to be subdued, and temporarily forgetting English language.
Verikoira couldn't tell anyone about his 'illness', fearing distrust and exile, forced to contain these two other lives within himself, keeping their smouldering flames burning, stoically enduring this inhuman challenge.
With time, they learned to live and work together, unseparably, to overcome their differences in their worldviews, learned to trust each other. Verikoira learned to live under constant gaze of beings of incomprehensible nature, feeling dim light of their auras, in turn, the ghosts kept recalling how to feel bodily needs and emotions. This companionship wasn't easy, but with each passing day their bond strengthened, and his powers grew stronger, becoming a force to be reckoned with.
My honest reaction when I once again have to scurry through foliage in pitch black at night time to scan for bloody giblets of a dead legendary enemy (best if it's a bloatfly) to find an item with another absolutely useless effect:
