Meanwhile, in the Wastelands -
"Sure this storm won't fry us from the inside out? I'm gettin' all tingly already," said Clint, sitting in the back of an armored transport parked in a stone forest for cover.
The Wastelands on the East Coast were mostly barren, arid stretches of shattered land, but surprisingly frequently huge pillar of spiky rock formations congregated together to form giant forests of rock.
Here, it was possible to weather the worst of the many geostorms that liked to wreak havoc on the Wastes. That is, if one stomached the risk of variants prowling about.
Clint, though, picked his teeth with the claw of a lizard type variant he had just recently slaughtered, unbothered.
