Theo slipped into his signature nano-suit, the fabric shimmering as it hugged his frame like a second skin.
He snagged a handful of plasma grenades from the rack, their weight a grim comfort in his palm, then moved deeper into the armory.
His eyes flicked between a plasma rifle and a laser rifle—both brutal crowd-clearers for zombie hordes. He slung them over his shoulders, their sleek barrels glinting under the dim lights.
Then he stopped, gaze locking onto a small, pistol-like device nestled in a corner. It pulsed with an ominous glow, a faint hum radiating menace.
This was it—the weapon Ariella had insisted he take. Despite its toyish size, it packed a punch that could level the city if he slipped up.
A handheld harbinger of annihilation, dwarfed only by the ship's heavier artillery.
"If anyone finds out we've got this," he muttered, voice low, "I don't know what they'd do to us."
