Artificial/Matt

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Lobo

In the darkest corner of the cosmos, where lawlessness reigned supreme, there was a name that struck fear into the hearts of the most hardened criminals: Lobo. The Main Man, the last Czarnian, roared through the void on his spacehog, a trail of cosmic dust marking his path. His destination was a desolate moon on the edge of the galaxy, a forsaken rock where a bounty worth more than the GDP of several planets was hiding. Lobo’s grin widened, his fangs gleaming in the starlight. The thrill of the hunt, the promise of violence, and the sweet scent of money drove him forward. He was the best at what he did, and what he did was bounty hunting.


"In the void of space, my word is law, and my wrath is legendary."


The moon's surface was a bleak expanse of craters and jagged rocks, its thin atmosphere a toxic miasma. Lobo dismounted, his boots crunching on the brittle ground. He pulled out his tracker, the device beeping steadily, leading him to an ancient, crumbling fortress that loomed against the horizon like a dying god’s tomb. The walls of the fortress were adorned with symbols of long-dead civilizations, their secrets buried under eons of dust and decay. As Lobo approached, he sensed the presence of an ambush. His grin widened. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he growled, cracking his knuckles, each one a thunderclap of impending doom.


"Every bounty's a bullet, and I'm the gun that never misses."


From the shadows emerged a band of interstellar mercenaries, their leader a hulking brute with cybernetic limbs and a face scarred by a thousand battles. “Lobo,” the leader spat, his voice a guttural rasp. “Turn back now, and maybe we’ll let you live.” Lobo’s laughter echoed across the barren landscape, a sound devoid of any warmth. “You got guts, I’ll give you that. Too bad they’ll be splattered all over this moon.” The battle was swift and brutal, a symphony of violence orchestrated by the Main Man. His chain hook sliced through metal and flesh alike, his fists pulverizing bone and circuitry. The ground was stained with the ichor of fallen foes, and Lobo stood triumphant, the thrill of combat singing in his veins.


"I ride alone, but my name echoes fear across galaxies."


As the last mercenary fell, Lobo's tracker beeped with renewed urgency, pointing him deeper into the fortress. He kicked open the massive, rusted doors and descended into the bowels of the structure. The air grew colder, the darkness thicker, until he reached a chamber bathed in an eerie blue light. At its center was a stasis pod, its occupant a figure of immense power and significance: Vril Dox, the genius strategist and head of L.E.G.I.O.N., a thorn in Lobo’s side for longer than he cared to remember. “Well, well, well,” Lobo muttered, approaching the pod. “Looks like I hit the jackpot.”


"In the end, it's just me, my bike, and a trail of bodies."


But as he reached for the controls, the entire fortress shuddered, and a voice boomed through hidden speakers, dripping with malice. “You’re too late, Lobo. The awakening has begun.” The floor beneath him cracked open, and tendrils of energy surged forth, wrapping around him with unbreakable force. Vril Dox’s eyes snapped open, filled with a mix of fear and determination. “Lobo, you idiot! You’ve triggered a failsafe. This place is a trap!” The energy tendrils tightened, pulling Lobo towards a glowing rift that had opened in the chamber’s floor, a portal to an unknown and undoubtedly dangerous dimension.


"Mercy died long ago; now, there's only the Main Man."


Lobo struggled against the tendrils, his strength barely holding them at bay. “I don’t do traps,” he snarled, his muscles straining. But the pull was relentless, and even the Main Man could feel his grip slipping. Vril Dox’s voice cut through the chaos, a desperate edge to his words. “We need to work together to survive this. Release me, and I can help!” Lobo’s eyes burned with rage and frustration. “This ain’t over,” he growled, his hand reaching for the release mechanism. But as he did, the rift’s pull intensified, the chamber filled with a blinding light. The last thing Lobo heard before being swallowed by the rift was Dox’s voice, a grim promise. “We’re going to need each other, Lobo. Whether we like it or not.” The rift closed, leaving the chamber empty and silent, save for the lingering echo of the Main Man’s laughter.


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