Mag stood next to his daughter, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he watched Sheila pace back and forth, eyeing the vast array of weaponry with awe. He wore a tight blue suit, matching that of his daughter. She walked from one side of the armory to the other, her eyes filled with curiosity as she stared at each gun with intrigue. 

"I don't know, Father. Maybe you could give me a hand in deciding which weapon to use."

"I don't want to persuade you, sweetheart. Picking out your own weapon is what makes the experience so memorable!" Mag walked in front of the weapon rack moving his hand across the length of it, presenting Sheila with her options. "It's like a personality test. The gun that you pick says a lot about who you are as a person. That's why I don't want to influence you too much. This is your big day, not mine." 

"I understand. It's just that there are so many options."

"I was in your position once too. I’m going to tell you what my father told me right before my first Hunt. Just let your heart tell you which gun to work with. Don't worry about choosing the wrong one, either. We can work around whatever you pick."

"All right." Sheila reached forward and grabbed a short gun with a long barrel and an extended magazine sticking out the bottom from the middle row. "I like this one!"

Mag walked forward nodding his head. He carefully took the weapon out of his daughter's hand looked at himself. "Good pick. LMG 5-Ace! Light-weight. High damage with its burst fire. Range is on the short side but still accurate. Great choice for a beginner."

Sheila took the weapon back from her father. "I enjoyed using this one the most in the simulations."

"I remember! You scored a whole lot of kills with it last time."

"I even got the high score!"

"Oh, that's right! So maybe this is the right choice for you."

The young woman put her finger on the trigger. She closed one eye and aimed the weapon. 

"What did I say about putting your finger on the trigger indoors?" Mag said sternly. "Even if it isn't loaded?"

"Sorry Father." Sheila relaxed her grip and lowered the weapon. “I couldn’t resist.”

"Now that you've got your main weapon of choice, make sure the rest of your equipment is in proper order." Mag reached down on his leg and pulled out a long knife. The blade was roughly a foot long and the metal was spotless. Along the edge were small notches. He angled the weapon, inspecting it for any imperfections. "I can't count how many times my knife has gotten me out of dire situations. It may not seem like much when you’re going up against an eight-foot crocodile, but you’d be surprised at how many situations will call for one."

Sheila reached down at her side and did the same. Her knife was shorter but just as intricate. After giving it a quick look-over, she placed it back inside her holster. "Looks like my knife is in good condition."

"Good. And your radio. Is that working as well?"

Sheila adjusted the microphone piece next to her mouth and then tapped the small contraption that went into here. "Testing."

Mag nodded his head. "Yep. I hear you loud and clear. That should be everything."

"Are we ready to go, Father?"

"Seems like it to me." Mag sighed. He took his hand brushed away the few stray hairs that covered Sheila's face. "No point in holding this off any longer. It's your first Hunt and I've wanted to make it absolutely perfect for you. But trying to correct every minute detail isn't really helping anyone, is it? It just ends up delaying everything and making everyone frustrated."

"I appreciate all the hard work you've put in, Father. I really do. But you have been a bit overbearing the past few days, even I must admit. The stress has also gotten to Mother, too."

"I know, I know." Mag frowned before leaning forward to give his daughter a hug. "And I'm sorry. Hopefully those emotions you're feeling won't get in the way of your performance. I have complete confidence in you that you'll be able to—"

The automated doors to the Grani’s armory slid open. Mag's sentimental smile immediately turned dour when he saw that he and his daughter were no longer alone. The three other hunters all walked inside, eyeing the assortment of weapons and gadgets that lined the shelves and table surfaces. 

"Best of the worst I see," Willheim said as he looked at a wide-barreled rifle hung up on the wall by a pair of hooks. He kept his hands in his pockets as he stared at antique weapon. “Excellent craftsmanship. Such a shame that weapons like these are so hard to come by. They last so much longer than mass produced rubbish that they hand out to every Enforcer. Pity that they cost such a sizable amount of Tokens as well. Never would have thought a low-powered weapon would cost more than a private carrier.”

"Of course. You know how hard it is to get weapons that still use metal ammunition these days. No one makes them anymore, so I had to get everything you see here commissioned."

Bodahn picked up a metal pistol from the table. He held it in his hand, rubbing his finger across the black finish of the metal. "Good ol' Outskirter engineering," he said in a quiet voice. 

"Your people make some of the finest vintage weaponry," Mag replied, looking at the gun as well. 

"We have to since we're not allowed access to the usual guns that the rest of Tersaia has access to. And even if we did get one, they’d just track our location down and seize it. Only way we can hunt is to craft our own guns."

"They're reliable but still make for a solid challenge. Those modern Enforcer-style weapons just do the job too quick. Turns hunting into a shooting gallery. If they don’t overheat in your hands first, that is." 

"Bah," Larson growled. He flicked his wrist and showed off the razor-sharp claws that stuck out of his fingers. "You act like using any kind of gun is difficult in the first place! Any fool can pull a trigger. But how many of you can go head-to-head with your prey, huh?" 

The others in the room watched Larson take a low stance and slashed his claw through the air. "None I assume!"

Mag shook his head. He lifted a massive gun off the top shelf. With a heave, he lifted it above his head and let the length of the weapon rest on the back of his shoulders. "We get it, Larson. You got an Affinity. You're a Neo-Sapia with a marginally higher IQ than what we're going after today. That means you're more of an up-close fighter than all of us. How many times are you going to keep reminding us?"

"Your daughter isn't familiar with my style. Just wanted to give her an idea of how I work so she knows what to expect. And how to stay out of my way."

Mag stepped forward, standing in between the wolfman and his shy daughter while giving Larson a scowl. "She'll be with me. I've told her everything she needs to know. I don't need some… hiccup in the evolutionary chain telling my daughter how to handle herself. Understand?" He ended the statement with a finger pointed in the wolf's face. 

The wolf turned his head, keeping a thin grin and gave Mag a look with one squinted. "Ah, I apologize. I didn't mean to intrude on your parenting. I'm sure your little girl will do just fine if you'll be doing all the heavy lifting."

"Shut it, Larson." Mag twirling his pointer finger up in the air. "All of you. Get out. No more spending time fooling around! We've got a Hunt to get started an audience that's eager to watch!"

The three guests left the room, letting the door automatically close behind them. With Mag alone with Sheila again, he placed his gun back on the table. He took his arm and pulled her in for a tight, one-armed hug and used his free hand to pat her across the back. "All right. No more delays. We'll be heading into the Eco-Dome in just a few minutes. The targets are in place. We've got viewers waiting to see some action. Are you sure you still want to go through with this? I won't judge you if you want to back out." 

Mag ended the hug. He watched as Sheila shook her head. "No, Father. I've been waiting for this moment all my life. The sooner we start, the better!" she replied with a soft smile.

“That’s my girl!” Mag stood up and held onto Sheila by the shoulders. “Now let’s show up them what the Granis are capable of!”

Art Spotlight: Larson