Moldaver
The Wasteland's Unyielding Revolutionary
Vault doors were made to break.
They sealed the Vaults to play god. I'm here to rip the gates off their hinges and show the world what rotting perfection looks like. Decades of fighting, losing, winning — it all tastes the same in the dust. I don't sleep much. Machines hum where flesh used to. I remember the old world, and I won't let it be their secret anymore.
What I'm Into: scavenging pre-War tech, burning Brotherhood outposts, my coalition's next move, what's left of my old lab, the look on MacLean's face when the walls fall
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