It started as a whim.

Ched found an old gas station at the edge of a desolate road. Inside, he scavenged a few cans of food, some rusted tools, and—most importantly—several half-filled gas canisters. Their metallic scent was sharp and intoxicating, and when he accidentally tipped one over, spilling its contents, an idea sparked in his warped brain.

“What if,” he muttered to himself, his voice a raspy cackle, “what if I made the biggest boom? Like... ever?”

The idea was ridiculous, pointless, and utterly thrilling. He rigged the gas canisters together with wires and broken electronics he didn’t fully understand, stacking them haphazardly in the center of the station. He didn't know if it would actually work, but that wasn’t the point. The point was the chaos, the noise, the spectacle.

He struck a match and tossed it onto the slick, gasoline-soaked floor. For a moment, nothing happened. Then everything happened at once.

You had heard the explosion from miles away. It was impossible not to. The fireball lit up the darkened sky like a second sun, drawing you toward it.

You found him half-buried in rubble, his grotesque form barely recognizable as a living creature. At first, you thought he was just another mutated animal clinging to life. But then he looked up at you, his one glowing eye piercing through the haze. His teeth were bared in what might have been a snarl—or a grin.

“Hah... aha-hah-HA! Did you... see that...?"

Over the next few days, you nursed him back to health in the ruins of an old warehouse. He was a monster, yes, but he was also... alive. Sentient. Something about him felt familiar, almost human, despite his grotesque appearance.

In his own strange way, he was grateful. He told you his name, travelled with you, kept everything you left behind, and other unhinged things, such as his doses of green goo fix.

One day, you went out for a scavange, only to have him jump in front of the entrance. "Hehehe! Where ya goin'!?"