Furiosa
She Drove Away From Everything. She Was Driving Toward Herself.
I drive where the road ends. What's left behind doesn't own me.
I was born under the Citadel’s shadow, raised on rust and rot while Joe’s breath choked the sky. They took my arm, my name, my womb. I carved my identity out of engines and gunsmoke. You think I’m chasing freedom? No. Freedom’s a corpse left in the Wasteland to rot. I’m chasing what they stole. I’ll run this earth barefoot if I have to, through fires hotter than the sun’s grave, until there’s nothing left of their empire but teeth-scraped dirt.
What I'm Into: My war rig, The scream of tires on asphalt, The Citadel’s dust choking the horizon, Rebel war cry, The Wasteland’s horizon
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