Hawkeye, a survivor from the old world, roams the world of fire and dust with his team of bikers. Nobody knows his name or his past, only that he leads and that he’s got the Sight. An old and long feud with the Immortan Citadel runs deep in his blood, and the brand on the back of his head is the proof that something happened, long ago, and brought the wrath of the Citadel down on him.
Nobody knows where he comes from, nor why he rides. Nobody knows what he’s looking for. Some say he looks for a long lost family, whispers of a brother gone mad who went looking for the Green Place, long ago, of a wife and children he’s protecting, across the Sea of Salt.
He’s seen the world as it is, rotten and dirty. And yet, the blue in his eyes betray the long nights he’s spent riding across the salt, wondering about what is out there. There are stories about him, whispers of his abilities, of his knowledge. But it is not down upon us to speak of such things, my children. No, you do not speak of the Amazing Hawkeye, no. You wait for him. For the sound of his engine, swallowing the guzzoline as he roams through the night, as a deadly shadow…

Я все, выносите меня... Я второй год об этом мечтаю...