Raven stepped into the back entrance of Guns R Us, the familiar scent of gun oil, metal, and dust hanging in the air. The rows of pristine weaponry and neatly arranged ammunition were almost comforting, in a strange way. She surveyed the place like it was her own. Nothing was off-limits here.
"Welcome to Guns R Us," she muttered to herself. "Today, everything must go. Including the mounted animals on the walls." She chuckled darkly as her eyes drifted across the taxidermied specimens, lifeless and trapped in place. Then her gaze turned to the rats scurrying along the edges of the floor, unnoticed by anyone but her. "And the rats. Every building in New York has them."
She paused. The thought struck her as she looked at the rodents, and a smirk appeared. "Well... maybe the rats can stay. Zombie rats weren't anything to mess with, after all."
Raven thought back to her first life, where the zombie rat infestations were legendary. Infected rats, fast-breeding, deadly. If you didn't have powers, they'd swarm and tear you apart before you had a chance to react. But now, she was in charge, and the idea of anyone, or anything, controlling her was laughable. She wasn't like those desperate survivors anymore.
Her mind lingered on how humans could gain powers during the apocalypse, in strange and convoluted ways. It wasn't just about surviving; it was about how you survived. Some made it through sheer willpower, lasting long enough to trigger latent abilities. Others were bitten by zombies and survived, only to discover they had inherited strange powers instead of becoming mindless undead. But Raven knew better than anyone—the survival rate was abysmally low. Only five percent of bite victims didn't turn.
But there was another way. The most common one.
Absorbing zombie cores. Cores from the zombies' brains the nuclei, the source of their power. Raven had done it herself in the past, and she'd seen firsthand how it could turn the weak into legends, capable of feats far beyond what anyone imagined. But that power came with a deadly price—most who tried it died in horrific ways.
"Nothing about gaining power in the apocalypse is fair," she thought, glancing around the store. "But I won't need luck this time." Her powers were awakening, and this time, she would control everything.
With that, Raven stepped forward, moving methodically through the store. She started at the entryway, walking slowly as she began absorbing every item she could. Guns, rifles, shotguns, pistols—everything was fair game. She absorbed it all. The gun racks, the displays, the trigger locks, the cable locks, the shelves, even the metal frames holding the weapons. Every single thing was being taken. Only in New York would they make sure everything was locked three times over: a lock for the trigger, a lock for the case, and a lock to lock the locks.
Her fingers brushed over a few display racks. She shook her head with a low chuckle. "A gun is a gun, but hey, I'll take everything."
She walked deeper into the store, moving to the back where the real treasure was stored: the warehouse.
This was where the true wealth lay—the ammunition and reloading supplies. There were boxes and pallets stacked high with rounds of every caliber: 9mm, .223, .308, 12-gauge, and everything in between. Raven moved between the rows, taking it all. Brass casings, primers, shotgun shells, even raw gunpowder and the ingredients needed to make more.
Raven smiled to herself. "Now I can make bullets that speak my language."
This was the real haul—the raw materials for survival. It wasn't just about guns; it was about the tools to keep her in control, to maintain power.
As she continued through the aisles, her mind drifted to her past life. She could still feel the power of the abilities she'd once possessed. Dual abilities—powers that made her one of the most hunted individuals of the apocalypse. She was a rare breed, a dual ability user, gifted with two very different powers: Nature Command and Technomancy
Nature Command allowed her to control plants, heal herself and others, and even cure the zombie virus in those infected with it. It was a gift, but also a curse. She had been forced to run from countless groups who wanted to enslave her to grow crops for their bases or cure infected leaders. She couldn't count how many times she had to kill just to survive.
Then there was Technomancy —her ability to create and control machines. Not just the manipulation of electronic systems like some would think, but the power to mold and manipulate physical machines. She could take old, rusted tech and turn it into fully functioning drones, robots, and automated weapons. Her technomancy had made her unstoppable. She could create war machines from scrap and send them into the battlefield without a second thought.
These abilities made her the most feared person during the apocalypse. But they had also made her a killer. A cold-blooded killer who had to fight to protect what was hers.
"Not this time," she murmured, her eyes narrowing as she absorbed the last of the weapons, tools, and ammunition from the vault. "Nobody controls me anymore."
As she finished clearing out the store, Raven took a step back, surveying the now empty showroom. There was nothing left but bare walls and racks. She crossed her arms, eyes flicking over the space once more.
"Locked, loaded, and this time," she said, her voice colder than ice. "I'm untouchable."
With that, Raven stepped out of the back room and into the open air of Guns R Us. The building was a ghost town now—its entire stockpile of weaponry and ammunition gone. She took one last look at the empty store before turning to head back outside.
"Next lets continue the theft." she said quietly as she moved toward her SUV.
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