In the remains of a once proud city, a lone figure wandered the empty streets. Everything here was barren of life, covered in sand and dust, a stark reminder of what he had left behind. He didn't care where he went, he just let himself wander. If he found food and water, so much the better, at least he wouldn't go hungry or thirsty while he wandered about.
His body was covered in makeshift armor, built from various plates of metal he found and hammered into shape. Even his helmet, which covered most of his face, was made from pieces of scrap. He didn't care about how he looked, he didn't care that any who seen him prefered to avoid him. None of it mattered to him.
When a bullet bounced off his helmet, he remembered that there was at least one thing that really didn't care about.
Up inside the ruins of one of the buildings, a group of bandits had been watching the streets. One of them decided it would be too sweet a shot to pass up when they noticed the tall figure. He was in their territory, they always shot trespassers.
"Dang it, you missed!" one of them yelled.
"No I didn't, I hit him square on the noggin!" the shooter replied.
"Then why didn't he go down if you hit him in the head?"
"I don't know, think he's a mutie?"
"Let's hope not, we'll run out of bullets trying to drop one of those fuckers."
The shooter looked into his rifle's scope and was treated to a surprise, "Hey, where is he? Where'd he go?"
"This is what happens when you miss the first shot! You let him get away!"
"I told you, I hit him! He should be dead on the..." the bandit let his sentence die right there when he turned around.
"Dead on the what? If you're going to yell at me, at least finish you-" the man was sent flying from the building. The second soon followed him. When the tall man stomped on the floor, he fell through to the next floor, right on top of the rest of the bandit gang. They never stood a chance.
This all happened because of people's desire for war. The world has changed, the people who lived in it has changed, but the desire for war was always there.
And when a nuclear warhead dropped into a fault line and caused a massive earthquake, their desires for war unleashed something that had no desire for it. They wanted death and destruction, now there was one who would show them what their efforts have sown.
War. War never changes. But even if he looked different now, he hasn't changed either.
Big news! Big Brother is not dead! Of course you know that already, I wrote it. But here's the thing, his adventure has not ended yet.
Big Brother: The Second Wanderer
It's the sequal to Big Brother: The First Protector. You can find it in Games-Crossovers-Bioshock/Fallout