Wastelander

The sound of gunfire erupts along with the roars and curses of explosions — it is another morning in Nailscrap Town. You find several broken parts after rummaging through the junk pile. Before you can inspect them closer, the roar of the bandits has already arrived with the radiative hot wind. They are the rats that gnaw on wires and the lizards that feast on ores — the cheapest scum on the junkyard. You respond to their presence with artillery fire, unleashing devastating flames.

Order is the biggest joke in Talia, and philosophy is the saddest elegy in the barren land. Destroying and being destroyed occupy ninety percent of the time spent in the junkyard. Riding an off-road vehicle, you tread the path covered by collapsed tiles under the scorching, which were still intact yesterday. The engineers lay prone on top of the car, praying not to be hit by the stray bullets. Meanwhile, you open up the garbage they've cobbled together, preparing to give the enemy a little surprise.