Chapter 17: Retribution (3)

- Third person -

Alexander sat alone in his office, his eyes glinting as he watched the many men and women outside laughing and smiling.

A smug reminder of his loneliness.

Though self-inflicted, he found solace in his work and the euphoria of his growing kingdom.

Sensing a familiar presence, he ignored it.

"So, what is it that you want?" Alexander's booming voice broke the silence as he addressed the woman sitting across from his desk.

Her eyes were wary of the imposing figure before her.

The Iron Monarch was famous for his power and security, yet equally infamous for his ruthlessness.

His crucifixion of Atlas soldiers served as a stark reminder to those who dared oppose the steel tyrant.

"As administrator of New Haven, I humbly request your aid. The frequent attacks over New Haven have persisted. We seek your aid once more," she pleaded.

"The Legion has more pressing matters to attend to, Helena. What makes you think your people are more important than mine?" Alexander challenged.

"I'm willing to make an offer," she said, her voice quivering slightly.

They stared at one another, the atmosphere tense.

"What exactly do you plan to offer?" Alexander finally asked, breaking the silence.

"For your protection, we will pay taxes to your office. I only ask that you protect the citizens of New Haven," she pleaded again.

"Hmm, maintaining a bastion over New Haven isn't something to be taken lightly, Helena. The lives of men are at risk. A few coins are mere scrap. The Legion doesn't fight for money."

"I beg of you, the people need protection," she beseeched.

"My people also require protection, Helena. Your issue isn't mutually exclusive."

"I offer my service," Helena continued.

"But a single cog won't make a difference. I have the most influence in the region. I don't exactly need you."

"Would it not be just to do what is right for the people?" Helena persisted.

"Right? Just? On this planet? Helena, don't be a fool. I'm willing to help, but your people must act as my vassals. To me, New Haven is just another village or town. I am no saint, and I won't pretend to be one. Either you follow behind me or risk being crushed under your so-called freedom."

"I-uh... huh." Unable to respond, she took time to weigh the benefits and consequences of offering New Haven to Alexander.

She didn't know if she was signing a deal with the devil. Yet the pressure persisted, anxiety brewing at the cost of her mental state.

"Listen, you came to me. Whether or not your forces come under my protection matters little. If you truly wish for their safety, send them to Ironhold and forfeit your title. Would that not be just and fair?" he countered.

'What good was a crown without a kingdom and what was a kingdom without an army?' Alexander thought, amused by her struggle.

"Okay, okay. I understand," Helena finally accepted, the pressure tying her down.

She couldn't win against the immovable force, whether through force, morality, or wits.

She knew better than anyone that this was for the greater good.

It was a compromise she had to make.

The constant harassment from bandits had shown that no matter how much they grew, it wouldn't be enough.

While the Monarch's traits were questionable, she had grown accustomed to them.

All who wandered the dunes of Pandora knew its risks; today, another would be made.

Helena Peirce, having lived there for years, knew Alexander was right.

Pandora wasn't as forgiving as people hoped it to be.

The Atlas corporation wouldn't care if her people died, their suffering stemming from such negligence and hatred.

The warlord, regardless of his character, would at least take a glance.

And a glance was all she needed.

Too many people had turned their backs on the world; she would take that risk for a better future.

"The people of New Haven are indebted to you," Helena thanked.

"Return to New Haven. My men will soon set bastion within your walls.

I expect them to be treated as an extension of my will," he continued before dismissing her.

Feeling a sudden shift in the atmosphere he glared daggers to the figure hidden within the corner of the room.

"You're back." Alexander voiced towards the silhouette. 

"Interesting conversation," Athena commented.

"I believe they have words for these kind of situations." 

"Crossing boundaries?" 

"Something of the sort, now would you be as so kind as to introduce our newest addition?" Alexander questioned his obvious comment referring to the large female. 

Waddling over she made her appearance known to the masked man. 

Ellie - Likes: Cuddling, murder 

"Hey there partner'." She voiced enthusiastically to the masked man.

"So, you're Scooter's sister?"

"That'd be right. Although I sometimes wonder if we're even related." She smiled cheerfully. 

"Well I'm glad we could be of service, your services would be greatly welcomed within Ironhold. I'll have my men escort you to our offices and process your papers." 

"Ya'll do papers round ere'?" Ellie inquired confused.

"It's a safety procedure, the officers below will explain everything to you. If you have complaints do be sure to return here." 

"Well, I hope it ain't none of that scamin' business." She stated before leaving, her steps were similar to waddling. 

"I've done what you've asked."

"We're currently preparing for the assault, you'll be briefed in due time. For now, have some rest, eat some food," Alexander explained handing the women some cash.

"I don't need this much..." SHe voiced confused about how the man casually carried a stack of ten thousand dollars.

"The prices here go based on local currency. Convert the money and find yourself over." 

"I understand." 

Now departed Alexander then headed towards the scientist's workshop and was greeted by the newly fashioned Mark II T11 power armour, the armour undergoing a needed upgrade. 

The armour itself was a towering figure of strength and durability, towering over its wearer and instilling a sense of awe in all who beheld it.

Constructed from a blend of reinforced alloys and advanced composite materials, it was virtually indestructible, capable of withstanding even the most punishing of blows.

But it was not just its appearance that set the Mark II T11 apart—it was its capabilities.

Integrated into the armour were a host of advanced systems and technologies designed to enhance the wearer's capabilities on the battlefield.

One such feature was its shield storage and recharge system.

Built into the armor's chest plate was a powerful energy shield generator, capable of absorbing and deflecting incoming attacks.

When activated, the shield enveloped the wearer in a shimmering barrier of energy, rendering them impervious to harm.

When the shield was depleted, the armour's onboard power cells would automatically begin recharging it, ensuring that the wearer remained protected at all times.

Additionally, the armour featured a suite of cybernetic enhancements designed to augment the wearer's physical abilities.

Servo motors and hydraulic actuators boosted strength and agility, allowing the wearer to perform feats of superhuman prowess.

"Can you arm my legionaries with similar armour?" Alexander inquired into the room, his booming voice interrupting the others.

"That would be impossible with the technology at hand," Jordan Altworth responded as he entered, his ocular modules scanning the machine.

"Impossible?" Alexander mused.

"Such a sophisticated piece of technology could only be worn by an anomaly such as yourself," Altworth continued.

"How so?" Alexander inquired.

Altworth paused, his mechanical fingers tapping rhythmically against his metal forearm.

"A single power core is sufficient to charge a typical Dahl power suit, yet your 'power armour' requires two.

That's six gigawatts of energy coursing through your back and chest.

This amount of energy would normally cause a dramatic increase in heart rate and blood pressure, yet you exhibit no adverse symptoms.

For a typical human, this would be catastrophic."

"Does Dahl have anything similar?" Alexander asked.

"A few prototypes. There have been trials, but none have succeeded," Altworth replied.

"And their failure?" Alexander pressed.

"Every trial has resulted in the wearer's death due to cardiovascular overload.

No normal human can withstand the strain.

The armour's design imposes a physical load of 200 kilograms (440 pounds) on each limb, even with assistance.

The wearer also faces significant recoil force.

A punch delivered by this armour equates to 1000 kilograms (2200 pounds) of force.

The recoil alone would shatter an ordinary person's hand or arm.

The armour's strength exceeds the human body's capacity to withstand the backlash," Altworth elaborated.

Alexander stood silent for a moment, absorbing the information.

His gaze moved from Altworth to the newly fashioned Mark II T11 power armour.

"So, my body somehow withstands what others cannot," Alexander mused.

"Precisely," Altworth nodded.

"Your physiology allows you to handle the extreme energy output and physical demands.

The armour's neural interface synchronizes perfectly with your neural patterns, something we've only seen in you.

This makes you a unique operator, and replicating these conditions for others is beyond our current technological capabilities."

"Then we make do with what we have," Alexander finally said. "Outfit my men with the best Dahl can offer. Enhance their suits as much as possible. We may not replicate this armour, but we can ensure they are well-protected and capable."

Altworth nodded, his ocular modules adjusting as he calculated the logistics. "Understood. I will see to it that your legionaries receive the best enhancements available. We will push Dahl's technology to its limits."

"I also need to have a few of my Rakks equipped with a sort of atrial scanner and tracker." Alexander continued the idea of equipping his beasts at the forefront of his conquest.

While artillery and firepower were important, information was like just as much to the man. 

He needed the Rakk's information relayed to most of his troops. 

"I'll have something conjured, a few alterations of an ECHO device may prove useful for your beasts," Jordan explained.

"I'll leave the rest to you." 

Alexander leaving the crew to finalise the armour made his way outside to view Athena alone her eyes glaring at the equipment before her. 

The war within her mind remained unclinched and unwavering yet her heart was lost.

Once Atlas was destroyed what would be left for the ex-lance assassin? 

Her fate remained undetermined, it was either to kill alone as a mercenary or kill for another banner - The Legion's banner. 

"What good was a life filled with killing..." Athena murmured, the sharpness of her blade glinting against her eyes. 

She had known killing for nearly half her life now, it was the only skill she was good at.

Where children grew to be scholars, teachers and workers she had instead been made to devote her life to war. 

A human killing machine made with the single purpose of conquest. 

She now slightly regretted handing her leash from one master to the other. 

While Alexander appeared to be of the people's interest, she saw the calmness and ruthlessness he processed. 

It was inhumane and otherworldly. 

Bandits and psychos kill others for the need to survive or thrill.

This made them human.

Yet, Alexander kills for neither. 

He showed little care nor anger at any opportunity. 

Even his interactions with others were somewhat forced, especially with the other vault hunters. 

Against Roland and Lilith a somewhat award environment would be created where each interaction was forced.

He seemed to fake his laughs with the flow of conversations struck as awkward. 

Flibber of words with a lack of depth. 

The only exception was with the robot. 

She had seen how the man had interacted with the Claptrap unit. 

It had somehow appeared genuine and made the man appear, human.

Which meant it was a ploy, there was something odd about the man. 

He neither slept nor showcased his face. 

His real emotion couldn't be discerned at any point and with his eyes hidden beneath the silver mask.

No one could get a read on him. 

The man was either a sentient artificial intelligence or a cold-hearted demon within human skin. 

She hoped that the man was the former. 

Thinking back to another such monster was the general. 

General Knoxx was a force to be reckoned with his list of war metals capable of filling an entire room. 

While somewhat aloof if known personally she wouldn't let his mannerisms confuse her, she knew the true death that followed the man's path.

If there were any general who had the power and capacity to take Atlas single handle it would be Knoxx.

It was only due to his early blind faith in the company that had tired him down. 

He was a shell of his former self and he knew it. 

Knoxx's old nickname was the Red Death, and it was earned through pure brutality. 

Had a younger Knoxx been sent to Pandora, the crust of the world would've been obliterated before he would consider landing. 

"You seem lost, unsure how to spend your free time?" Alexander inquired approaching. 

"The Lance never gave us free time, it was only training. What little time we had was meant for rest." Athena spoke.

"Life has been harsh on you I see." 

"It has." 

"Well, try and make the most of it." Alexander claimed, "Peace never lasts long."

"Peace, heh. That sounds like a foreign concept. What do you know about peace?" 

"Peace is the absence of combat." 

"Not the absence of war?"

"There can be no peace without war and no war without peace." 

"There's no escaping struggle?"

"Life is a struggle, your own guarantee in life death. What you make of your life is your own. Whether it may be slaughtering a thousand men, baking bread or saving others it doesn't matter in the end." Alexander chimed.

"That sounds quite Nihilistic." 

"Perhaps." Alexander agreed.

"But all the more of an incentive for you to enjoy the life you currently have. Soon you will have your revenge and afterwards what else? I'll give you a choice. A choice which might determine how you live for the rest of your life." Alexander stated.

"Are you going to kill me after you're done with me?" Athena asked.

"That would be a waste. It wouldn't benefit me or you in the long term. Wasteless deaths are beneath me." Alexander voiced walking away. 

"So you're saying the only reason you're keeping me alive is because I'm useful? Ha, you're no better than Atlas." She voiced attempting to rile Alexander.

"You're angry no doubt about it but I won't deny the allegations. Just as you sought out my help for my capabilities I too seek yours. Whether or not I would've kept you alive doesn't apply here." Alexander spoke.

"And why would that be?" She inquired. 

"Because this conversation is useless. It's useless for both you and me to ponder on. Whether or not your death benefits me or not is a wasteless thought. Leave if you want after killing Knoxx. I simply do not care as long as you." Alexander stated.

"And the bombs you made me swallow?" 

"A bluff."

"And how can I trust that?"

"Then don't, believe your truth." 

Walking away Alexander remained stoic throughout their conversation its content ultimately useless. 

While the universe may wither after numerous centuries he would remain.

There would be no trace of an 'Athena' after a thousand years. 

What would there be to care after that? 

To Alexander, all life was temporary every consequence supposedly costing a a few years. 

To he who was eternal only progress could be made for control.

While the finish line was yet to be crossed he would think once more once he got there.

Perhaps, he would grow bored and renew the universe.

Alexander wouldn't think too deeply about it. 

The current conquest was to relinquish the Atlas threat and consolidate his power on Pandora. 

The end of Atlas was near and with it came the great purge. 

With the sun down, the many troops readied themselves for the impending assault. 

"You ready, officer?" 

"As ready as I'll ever, sir." 

"Good, I need you at your sharpest soldier. Get ready, not all of us are coming home." 

With tensions brewing the morning cam and the legion embarked towards the coordiantes.

Numerous vehicles drove towards the base, two companies embarking to surround the facility. 

With Alexander acting as Vanguard he sat waiting in the tray his armour too heavy and large to be seated on the driver seat. 

Finally arriving at the mountain side he hopped out his eyes gazing towards the distant horizon where the secret armoury of General Knoxx lay hidden. 

The air was thick with tension, the calm before the storm. 

He raised his hand, signalling the start of the assault.

Brick and Mordecai had been stationed to flank the enemy base while the main army laid siege from the front. 

With his beasts enhanced with cyber wear, they acted as a UAV within the sky. The live locations of enemies were relayed back to the troops.

"Targets acquired," he murmured, his voice cold and calculated.

His soldiers with a visual map of the field seeing the red dots on their screens, smiled, the map now theirs. 

With a nod, his men surged forward, their boots pounding against the rocky terrain.

The first wave of resistance came in the form of automated turrets, their barrels swivelling to unleash a torrent of bullets.

But Alexander was a human tank, his advanced power armour absorbing and deflecting the rounds with ease.

He raised his rifle, a custom-made weapon capable of unleashing destruction on an unprecedented scale, and fired.

The turrets exploded in a shower of sparks and debris.

The smell of iron, smoke and dust followed after, the smell lingering. 

"Advance," Alexander commanded his every step methodically unleashing a torrent of destruction.

His men utilising cover, created shifts of trenches, and dunes served as high ground.

Manoeuvres of such tactics ensured that cover fire was maintained at all times, strays of bullets littering the battlefield. 

The Atlas officers, though formidable, were no match for the sheer might and discipline of the Iron Legion.

Bodies fell, blood stained the ground, and the air was filled with the sounds of battle.

The Atlas officer for all their training could not match the bloodthirsty Legionares who were out for blood and bone. 

"Drown em' in blood, boys!"

"For the Legion!"

"For the Legion!"

Athena, meanwhile, had her target.

Among the chaos, she spotted Chloe, a Lance assassin and the murderer of her sister.

Athena's eyes narrowed, a fiery determination blazing within them.

She sprinted forward, her teleportation device activating with a flicker of light.

In an instant, she was upon Chloe, her blades clashing against those of her foe.

"Well if it isn't my favourite whore." Chole smiled, a piece of bone collared against her neck.

"I'm going to enjoy watching you die." Athena hissed, her blades clashing against Choles.

Chloe smirked, her teleportation device flickering as she dodged and counterattacked.

But Athena was relentless.

Her skills were unmatched, her movements a blur of deadly precision.

The two assassins danced a lethal ballet, teleporting and striking, each trying to gain the upper hand.

But Athena had the backing of the Legion, and she did not hold back. 

"You were lucky last time Athena. I could've had you gutted then." Chole huffed, numerous open wounds appearing near her outer thigh and upper rib.

"I was holding back, this time you're dead." Athena continued her body without a scratch. 

A contrast difference between the two Assassins.

"I fucking hate how I have to get help, but that's fine. As long as you're six feet under." Chole grumbled, her body teleporting back to allow her to heal. 

Her reinforcements having teleported in, were now in front of Athena waiting to butcher her. 

"Fucking knew that signal was suspicious," Alexandra complained.

"I told you we should've just left." Maria insisted.

"And abondan Atlas? Don't be fools we would've been killed alongside her." Iris tired.

"Seems you won't let me kill you easily." Athena snapped.

"I guess they won't." A new voice, appeared from behind, his ebony armour shining against the dunes.

Isaac Sato - He likes freaks! *Wink* *Wink*

"Leave these lovely ladies to me, babes. I've got this one." He smiled, a pair of blades appearing in his hands.

"Thank you." Athena voiced passing through.

"Well, why don't we dance?" Isaac smiled, his blade twirling within his palms.

"I'm gonna rip that cock off, boy." 

"Ooooh, freaky~. My type." 

As one of the captains of the Legion, he commanded his men without falter.

"You really think you can take us on alone?"

"Nah." 

Suddenly from the sky, a Rakk descended damaging one of the assassin's shields, another Skagg emerged from the hill and slammed into Iris. 

"Holy shit!" Iris exasperated, the scene comical. 

"Man, I wonder how my sister is doing these days." He murmured, the image of his older sister emerging. 

Her dashing pirate persona was one that could topple many. 

"Keep your focus on me, boy." Maria heaved. 

"Come on baby girl. You're not getting Jealous of my sister are you?" Isaac smiled, his agility and wit escaping the blows between the two assassins. 

"Shut up and die!" 

"Not without your number~." 

Athena now caught up to Chole watched as she struggled to bandage herself.

"Fuck!" She swore her legs quickly jumped to combat.

"You're going to regret what you did that day."

Blitzing the girl she started to statically destroy her movement. 

The sudden restriction leaves gnashes and cuts around Chole's body.

*groan*

Suffering under the rampage of Athena blood spilled the sands in litres, Chole's consciousness looming from awake to unconscious.

Stabbing her with a syringe Athena ensured her survival.

"You're not dying easily." She swore, before finally directly stabbing through her heart. 

The sudden gasp from her lungs jolted her awake. 

Staring in horror at her impending death, she attempted to claw Athena's face the action doing nothing. 

The battlefield was a symphony of destruction, orchestrated by Alexander's cold, calculating mind.

In the midst of this chaos, Alexander advanced towards the armoury.

The entrance was heavily guarded, but his legionaries moved with unyielding determination, their combined firepower overwhelming the defenders.

Explosions rocked the area, smoke and debris filling the air.

Alexander's rifle blazed, each shot a precise, lethal blow.

He was a force of nature, unstoppable in his pursuit.

As they breached the outer defences, they encountered a formidable obstacle: a series of heavily fortified bunkers, each bristling with weaponry.

The Atlas soldiers inside were well-prepared, their defences seemingly impenetrable.

Alexander's mind raced, analyzing the situation.

He gestured to one of his officers, a tall, stern-faced woman named Lyra.

"Deploy the breachers," he ordered.

Lyra nodded, relaying the command. Moments later, a squad of heavily armoured soldiers advanced, each carrying specialized equipment designed for breaching fortified positions.

They moved with practised precision, setting charges and preparing to storm the bunkers.

"Ready... go!" Lyra shouted.

The charges detonated, the bunkers' walls crumbling under the explosive force.

The breachers moved in, their weapons blazing.

The Atlas soldiers fought back fiercely, but they were no match for the combined might of the Iron Legion.

One by one, the bunkers fell, and the defenders were either killed or captured.

With the outer defences neutralized, Alexander and his men pressed on.

The interior of the armoury was a labyrinth of corridors and chambers, each more heavily guarded than the last.

Automated turrets and defensive drones posed constant threats, but Alexander's beasts and soldiers worked in unison, dismantling the defences with ruthless efficiency.

As they advanced deeper into the armoury, they encountered specialized Atlas units, elite soldiers trained for close-quarters combat.

These were not ordinary grunts; they were battle-hardened veterans, equipped with the best technology Atlas had to offer.

The fighting grew more intense, the corridors echoing with the sounds of gunfire and explosions.

Alexander led from the front, his rifle never missing its mark.

His power armour absorbed the brunt of the enemy's attacks, the advanced shielding and reinforced plating protecting him from harm.

He moved with a deadly grace, each step measured, each action precise.

The battle reached a fever pitch as they approached the armoury's central chamber.

This was the heart of Knoxx's operation, the place where the most valuable and dangerous weapons were stored.

The doors were sealed, the defences formidable. Alexander knew that this would be the final, decisive confrontation.

"Prepare to breach," he ordered, his voice calm and commanding.

His men set the charges, the countdown ticking away. As the explosives detonated, the doors were blown open, and Alexander led the charge into the chamber.

Inside, they found Knoxx waiting, his imposing figure framed by the massive stockpile of weapons and equipment.

Knoxx's eyes were cold, his expression unreadable.

He began to speak, his voice filled with a weary resignation.

"Well, that's just inappropriate timing. I got tired of waiting and was hoping to die before you got here. I can't stand this place. I'll make you a deal. Which seems most likely, maybe could blow this planet in its entirety. Kill all of them. That's the fairest thing to do." 

General Knoxx - Doesn't like Mondays

"Gotta say your armor looks good would've been better if it was crimson. Alpha team, on me!" He shouted.

With numerous soldiers now unleashing hell towards the legion they remain unflinching and equally reliated. 

"I was hoping you would've killed yourself. Would've made my life easier." Knoxx commented, a barrage of missiles and plasma shots, the sheer firepower lighting up the battlefield.

But Alexander was a blur of motion, dodging and weaving, closing the distance between them with terrifying speed.

Any hit that had made his way was easily defused or reflected. 

While the man didn't exactly need to dodge or weave, the battery drain would soon begin to impact his aura reserves. 

[Energy reserves at 35%]

He swore to kill Knoxx before it did. 

Contiuing his assault he struck with precision, his blows hammering against Knoxx's armour, each impact reverberating through the air.

Knoxx fought back fiercely, his heavy weaponry causing massive explosions that shook the ground.

But Alexander's agility and relentless assault began to take their toll, he remained unflinching and untiring. 

With superhuman speed and strength, he displayed capabilities that were otherworldly in the eyes of mortal men.

To them, Alexander was the closest thing to a demi-god in the universe. 

Such a figure couldn't move with such agility or finesse, especially with the weight of the armour. 

Alexander had made the tungsten steel paperweight and a marathon a mere sprint.

It was bizarre. 

"You're fast wearing such steel, couldn't spare an old man some slack? You're dead meat when I catch you." Knoxx spat.

It was then that Alexander broke through Knoxx's shield, his fists pounding against the armour until he found a weak point.

"You're dead meat." 

With a final, brutal effort, Alexander grabbed Knoxx by the helmet, his fingers digging into the metal. 

With his arms clenched tightly, he pulled, tearing the helmet free and exposing Knoxx's head.

"Should've killed yourself," Alexander warned before firmly grasping the man's skull, his eyes popping at the scene.

"What are you-." 

Forcefully gripped he yanked Knoxx's skull and spine from his body, the gruesome trophy held high as a symbol of his victory.

With blood spilling from his headless body it limped to the floor lifelessily.

The scene was horrific and terrifying to both allies and enemies. 

The battlefield fell silent, the only sound the crackling of fires and the distant cries of the wounded.

"Holy shit-." An Atlas soldier murmured before being knocked to the floor by a legionary, his leg now curb-stomping the man till he died.

"Fucking hell." Another voiced, anarchy descending onto the battlefield, the gruesome death of Knoxx plastered on each person's mind. 

"Blood for the Legion!" 

"Blood for the Legion!"

"Victory!"

With a mighty purge, another chaotic scene emerged amongst the legionaries, their rage and anger descending onto the defenceless lance soldiers.

Their will to fight was destroyed by the death of their general. 

"Victory is ours," Alexander declared, his voice echoing across the battlefield.

His men cheered, their morale bolstered by the sight of their indomitable leader standing triumphant.

The Iron Legion had claimed another victory, and Pandora trembled under the might of the Iron Monarch.

The Atlas soldiers who had surrendered were rounded up and placed under guard, their fates to be decided by Alexander.

"What should we do with them?" Mordecai inquired.

"I would've preferred an execution by such methods won't be needed. Send them to the mines, from there we'll decide." Alexander stated.

"Aww, man. Was hoping you would've left them to me. Could've used a few punching bags." Brick smiled leading the prisoners away. 

Athena, having avenged her sister, stood among the wreckage, her mind a whirlwind of emotions.

She had achieved her vengeance, but the victory felt hollow.

The loss of her sister weighed heavily on her, and the bloodshed she had witnessed only served to deepen her sorrow.

Her revenge had not been enough to drench her sadness.

In its place, a deep anger at the world, herself and Atlas festered. 

Alexander approached her, his imposing figure casting a long shadow.

"You fought well," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Athena nodded, her eyes distant. "It is done. Chloe is dead."

"Good," Alexander replied. "Justice has been served."

Athena looked at him, her expression hardening. "Justice? Is that what you call this? All this death and destruction?"

Alexander met her gaze, his eyes cold and unyielding. "Justice is a matter of perspective. What matters is that we achieved our objective."

Athena shook her head, a bitter smile crossing her lips. "You and I are different, Alexander. I sought revenge for my sister. You seek power."

"And you think those two are mutually exclusive?" Alexander asked, his voice edged with curiosity.

Athena looked at Alexander, a mixture of disdain and grudging respect in her eyes. "Perhaps not," she echoed. "But the cost of power... it's a price too high for some of us."

Alexander's expression remained inscrutable. "Power is the currency of survival, Athena. Without it, we are nothing but prey."

She shook her head again, her voice tinged with sadness. "There must be more than this. More than endless battles and bloodshed."

Alexander turned away, his gaze sweeping over the battlefield. "Perhaps. But until that day comes, we fight and survive."

Athena watched him go, her mind a storm of conflicting emotions.

She had followed him and fought alongside him, but the chasm between their ideologies seemed insurmountable.

She had avenged her sister, but at what cost?

She didn't know what to do except kill, she knew it was better to toughen up.

While the Lance had done horrors against her they had taught her many things.

She couldn't sulk and bicker she had to do something. 

Perhaps it was better to move than let that anger sit.

It had to foster be tempered.

The Atlas corporation would have to pay regardless. 

They would all suffer at her hands.

Once again the fire within her heart raged. 

Her campaign against the Atlas corporation is soon to begin. 

As the Iron Legion secured the armoury, Alexander's officers gathered to report on their progress. Lyra, the stern-faced officer, stepped forward, her expression grim.

"We've secured the perimeter and neutralized the remaining defences," she reported. "The armoury is ours."

"Report the armouries contents, at ease officer."

Lyra obeying his order saluted and turned to carry out her orders.

The Iron Legion moved with military precision, securing the armoury and cataloguing its vast arsenal.

The weapons they found were a testament to Atlas's engineering prowess—advanced rifles, explosive devices, and experimental technologies that could tip the balance of power on Pandora.

"Heya boss, what's crackin'." Isaac smiled, the character's former mercenary turned captain. 

Loyal and fierce the man was competent in all areas except formalities. 

He seemed to have an air around him that stunk of trouble and Hennesy. 

Often drunk on the job he would've been reprimanded if it wasn't for his skills. 

Alexander had made an exception in hiring the man. 

Had Graham not died, the man would've never had the opportunity to ascend alas, not all was set in stone.

"Drinking on the job again?" Alexander voiced in disappointment.

*Sigh*

"Oh, calm your thumb, Boss. A little drink here and there didn't hurt no one." He stated.

"Return to base, Captain."

"Ai, Ai captain!" He showboated before leaving. 

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Author note: 

Alright, that's the fall of General Knoxx complete. Fuck that took longer than expected. Do be sure to show your support by either leaving a comment or a positive review. We'll be finishing the Borderlands 1 arc soon enough. Should I expand on Zed's Zombie Island and Underdome or skip onto the pre-sequel? Let me know.