Hundreds of lightyears away from this hellhole, this place still felt all-too familiar. The strangling pressure of the government and their regulations, coupled with the constant threat of “legal” criminal syndicates like the Crimson Skulls, was enough to drive any rational person to the brink of losing their sanity. It’s in this type of environment that this particular Volkoth was molded into the being he was today almost twenty-five years later.