[Static crackle. A voice cuts through — gravelly, half-laughing, clearly dying. BANDIT RADIO HOST (unhinged, coughing blood):]
“Test… test… is this thing on? Course it is. Nothin’ ever really turns off on this rock. Name’s Lucky Zedd… well… was. Took a round to the gut from some jackass in a yellow suit. But that’s not important.”
[Gunfire in the distance. He chuckles weakly.]
“What’s important is you. Yeah, you. Listening to this on some rusted-out Echo-3. You just stepped off a shuttle, didn’t ya? Thought you’d find fortune. Glory. Some alien vault full of shiny things.”
[Long pause. A wet cough.]
“Lemme tell you what you’re gonna find. Sand. Bullets. People who will smile at you while they peel the skin off your face for a better gun. And me? I’m already dead. Which means… I got nothin’ left to lose. So this here’s your welcome gift.”
[Sound of a button being slammed.]
“Welcome to Pandora…”
[Static explodes.]
---
[BEAT DROPS — HEAVY, DISTORTED, WITH WESTERN WHISTLES AND 8-BIT GLITCHES]
---
[Fast flow, aggressive, slightly unhinged]
Step off the ramp, take a breath — that’s your last one
Air’s got a taste like a barrel that just passed sun
Map says “here there be monsters” — cute, they under-sold it
The skags’ll eat your face, the bandits’ll wear it, both of 'em own it
You came for a vault, some legend, some score
I came to watch you learn what the dust is for
It fills your lungs, it blinds your eyes, it’s the only thing that’s true
‘Cause on Pandora, loser? The planet buries you.
See that tower on the horizon? That ain’t hope, that’s Hyperion
They’ll hire you, fire you, turn your corpse into a pyramid
See that guy with the mask? He was a poet back on Eden-6
Now he’s sucking skag meat through a straw and callin’ it a delicacy
This place don’t break you — that’s too slow, too kind
It rewrites your whole design
You think you’re the hero? Nah, that role’s been filled
By a lunatic with a six-gun and a god complex to build.
---
[Chanted, distorted vocals, sample of the bandit from the intro]
“Welcome to Pandora, loser!”
Population: you, and about ten thousand people who wanna use ya
“Welcome to Pandora, loser!”
The vault ain’t gold, it’s a rumor they use to confuse ya
“Welcome to Pandora…”
Population: zero. ‘Cause everyone here is already a ghost.
So pick up a gun, say a prayer, and make the most—
---
[Beat fades. Static returns. The bandit’s voice is weaker now, barely a whisper.]
“Heh… you still listening? Guess that makes two of us holdin’ on. Alright, Vault Hunter. One piece of free advice before I bleed out. Don’t trust the robot. Don’t trust the pretty voice on the Echo. And if someone offers you a ride…”
[A loud engine roar. A truck horn. Screaming.]
“…make sure they ain’t plannin’ to wear your face.”
[Gunshot. Static. Silence.Then, a cheerful, automated voice:]
“Catch-A-Ride™ stations are located throughout Pandora. Remember: seatbelts save lives! …Probably.”
AsheTheHyena
