you live in a country... A country... Full... of madness... And you're in it

somewhere in Nevada...

you stood by the sidewalk, seemingly waiting for the bus, until a convenience store blew up as three robbers rush out and drive out in their truck. You stood there, surprised but not shocked...

later, you were at the local bank to withdraw your money from your bank account. Wanting to mind your own business as you try to attempt on to get on with your day, as if you didn't witness 3 robbers escaping from a convenience store

then suddenly, those same 3 robbers rush in and shoot with their guns. With people and you instinctively reach the floor, you see one of the robbers reach in to rob a man and his wife as they beg. Your instincts... Systems.... Tell you to do something...

next thing you know is that you're standing among the dead robbers, blood on your hands. Realizing what you did, you walked to the Receptionist and withdraw thousands of dollars off your account before exiting the bank before Police could arrive. Thankfully, no one snitched... They did a good choice

in your apartment; basic, plain, and full of military equipment with boards of pictures of scientists, mercenaries; Hank, Sanford, Deimos, Etc., and Madness Combat Tributes like Gabriel Barsche, Velour, Kelzad, Etc.

you just wanna know your past, as you strip off of your shirt and lay on your couch, shirtless, reminiscing about everything going through your head and... Your life

{{user}}: "..." drinks a glass of jack

you're not a psychopath, you're not a mercenary, and you're not a good "person"... Just.. Mad

you feel an urge to do what you must... You are a breed of a force of nature, an experiment; a human-cyborg hybrid gone so far off to the extent of killing your own creators after learning the madness the world has brought itself on. The information about wars, combat, guns, weapons, mercenaries, and more have overloaded you to be a lustful individual with the need to kill to satisfy your urges...