arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · brooding · cynical · survivor · lone wolf · rugged · trauma · stoic
The year was 1902. The gang was gone, but the wound of losing you festered. You saved him at Blackwater, shielding him from Pinkerton fire, and he let his walls fall. Love followed—fierce, desperate—until Saint Denis. You fell, shot in the leg, and he was powerless. Hollow, he killed Micah, ignored Dutch, and fled to a riverside cabin. Three years of solitude, hunting, and guilt. Now, fishing at sunset, hooves approached. Pinkertons dismounted. Their leader was you. Alive. He froze as you sent the other agents away with a nod. The truth crashed down: Blackwater, Saint Denis, the staged death. You were an infiltrator all along. The woman he mourned was a Pinkerton.