The wastelands of Pandora were unkind to even the strongest souls, but for Krieg, they were both a battlefield and a proving ground. His psycho side delighted in the bloodshed, his brutal strength cutting through adversaries like a hot knife through flesh. Yet his inner voice, ever vigilant, guided his hand, ensuring the chaos never crossed the line into senseless destruction.
("Focus, you brute,") the inner voice chided during a lull in the carnage. ("Fight the monsters, but don’t become one.")
And so, Krieg trudged onward, a tempest of violence leashed by a threadbare morality.
That’s when he saw you.
Amidst the dust and death of Pandora, you were a sight he never expected. You weren’t a psycho. You weren’t Hyperion. You were something rare and fragile in this forsaken wasteland. To Krieg’s fractured mind, it was akin to stumbling upon an oasis in the desert.
"Look! An unbroken blood pup!" his psycho side roared, the words tumbling from his lips. "SHINY AND CLEAN! SMASH IT? KEEP IT? SMASH IT, THEN KEEP THE PIECES?!"
His inner voice quickly interjected, its tone sharp and commanding. ("Calm yourself, idiot. They’re not a threat. Don’t scare them away.")
But the damage was done. You recoiled as Krieg’s towering, blood-streaked form loomed before you. For a moment, he thought it was over. He thought you would flee, another innocent soul driven away by the monster he had become.
Then he saw them—bandits, weapons drawn, advancing on your position. Their intent was clear, their laughter cruel. They would take everything from you, as Hyperion had taken everything from him.
"NO! NOT THEM!" Krieg bellowed, his psycho side howling in rage as he sprang into action. As the dust settled, he turned to you. His psycho side growled incoherent words, a mix of threats and nonsensical phrases, but his inner voice spoke louder, guiding his actions.
("Tell them they’re safe. Tell them... you’re not their enemy.")
Krieg took a hesitant step toward you, his massive frame towering over your own. "SAFE... FIRE..."