[color=000000] [center] [h1][i][b]The Highwayman[/b][/i] [/h1] [/center] [/color] 

A road of cracked asphalt and fire blasted earth stretched out before the Highwayman, crunching beneath each steel-clad footfall. Concrete and soil had become one beneath the nuclear devastation of Chinese Warheads, and the land had been left a sickly mess of cracked grey and greenish brown. 

It was on the right path. 

The armor-clad juggernaut strided onwards, its joints whirring and hissing, Scooped Machine-Gun clutched in its metallic hands. 

It wasn’t long before the first few raiders came slipping out of the marshland. 

The Highwayman’s power armor was far more sleek than the bulky get-up worn by wastelanders, so the Guardsmen didn’t think twice about rushing the featureless wanderer. 

“You’re trespassing upon the kingdom of the Watch.” A grizzly figure in an old-world military uniform sneered, as him and his buddies came wandering up to the Highwayman “Hand over your valuables, and the just and noble Guardsmen will allow you to walk away unscathed, outlander.” 

“The ORB are paying good caps for dead Guardsmen.” a steely voice rasped from beneath the Highwayman’s cold metal helmet “How about you hand over all your valuables, or I bring them back some souvenirs?” 

The grizzled one shot his comrades a look of confusion. 

“Let's waste this asshole!” 

Their rifles barked, letting out a crackle of bullets,  which pinged harmlessly off of the Highwayman’s hard metal body. 

The Highwayman squeezed the trigger if its machine gun, sweeping through the Guardsmen with a feral bellow of roaring gunfire. A few strained coughs, and bubbles of dark red blood, and then the road was littered with the bullet-ridden corpses of four Guardsmen. 

“No second chances.” 

The steely figure pressed on up the road, its destination within its grasp.