The sounds of a rather loud and heated argument greeted us as we entered the shop.

"What do ya mean I can't get a refund?" a customer demanded. Upon walking into the main room of the store, I realized the source of the voice belonged to a tall, muscular individual clad in sleek nanomesh armor. It was less advanced than my set, but it would still do a good job protecting you against a bullet. From what I saw, this guy's face was even uglier than mine: scars covered his face, his nose was a jigsawed mess, and his murky blue eyes glittered with malice. To add insult to injury, this twat was bald.

Standing before this behemoth was a short red head. From what I could tell, she was probably around the same height as Boreas. (I'm 5'10, Boreas is 5'8.) From a quick glance, I noticed that she wore a simple dark blue blouse and dark grey cargo pants along with a utility belt girding her waist. The detail that caught me off guard were her eyes: the twin pools of amber light glowed with a fiery, defiant light in them. While I tried not to look too much into it, her clothing hugged her frame in...cough...all the right places.

Honestly, I was left speechless. Am I seriously checking out a stranger? What the hell is wrong with me. Boreas probably spiked my morning coffee with something.

The lady sighed as she brushed a strand of curly orangish-red hair out of the way. "Listen fella, you bought the gun. I built it from scratch, so it should work."

"Well, it doesn't!"

With a snarl, she snatched the gun out of her customer's hand. She then fiddled with the weapon, her lips pursed in concentration. Finally, a twisted grin appeared on her face. Before the man in front of her could do anything, she shot his kneecap out.

"I dunno mate, it seems to work just fine." she replied in a casual tone.

While the man that could easily crush her babbled like a toddler, two other men ran over.

"Hey! What the hell did you do to Eric?" One of the thugs demanded.

She shrugged. "Don't ask me. I wouldn't know."

Unlike how I'd usually act in these situations, I stalked forward with the intent to interfere. Things were going to get messy if nothing was done.

Passing through various racks of weapons, I approached the two armored individuals and smirked behind my helm when I saw their jaws go slack.

"Stop being a nuisance before I file a goddamn noise complaint," I rumbled, standing in front of the woman.

"Oh yeah? What are you gonna do–?"

I had my gun drawn before either of them could so much as whimper. "I won't be as kind as the lady behind me. Get out of here–and take your friend while you're at it."

"Shit." one of the goons squeaked. "L–Let's not do anything crazy..."

"Move."

And so the two sacks of shit picked their friend up and hauled ass out of the store.

I sighed before hearing musical laughter behind me.

"Wow, and here I thought I was going to have to stay late mopping the floors tonight." the redhead began as I turned to regard her. "Thanks for the help, oh mighty spectre."

I grunted in response and held my hand out. "And you might be?"

"The name's Alannah." she replied, shaking my hand. "I'm the owner of this fine joint–Although some people seem to forget that at times."

Despite my usual behavior, I found myself chuckling. "Can't blame them."

A raised eyebrow warned me that I was walking on thin ice. "Why's that?"

"You don't come off as a deadly opponent." I answered. "However, that works in your favor."

Alannah beamed at me. "Right you are."

"Well, since you gave me your name, might as well give mine. I'm–."

"–Mortifer." she finished for me, awe in her voice. "I'm genuinely surprised you swung by my little place. I mean, seriously: you're big news on Erastus. You've taken out targets that would make most people wet their pants, and here you are in my shop."

I paused, realizing I was almost ready to give my true name to someone I barely knew.

Am I stupid or something?

Boreas and Alex had caught up with me, and my old friend looked at me as if I had sprouted a second head.

"What?" I prompted him.

"You're...Actually talking to people." Boreas replied, an expression of pure jubilation spreading across his face. "And you're not killing anyone!"

Alannah snorted. "I'd know that white hair and dorky grin from anywhere. Hey Boreas."

A smirk lit up his features, and I couldn't help but feel a little suspicious. "Hey Alannah. Fancy seeing you here."

The gunsmith rolled her eyes and toyed with a small firearm she drew from her side. "This IS my shop, after all. What brings you to my humble abode?"

Boreas jerked a thumb in my direction. "I'm supplying my partner with munitions. The fool loves to burn through ammo like a fat guy loves doughnuts. Since ammo doesn't grow on trees, I have to invest a fair bit of our earnings into ensuring my compadre is adequately armed."

Alannah's musical laughter rang out, and I felt my suspicions rise even further. "How exactly do you know my partner?" I prompted her.

She offered me a simple shrug. "We're old friends and colleagues, that's all. Who's the kid?"

"The name's Benjamin, but you can call me Ben," Alex replied, using the falsified name my partner and I had come up with to better protect him.

Once again, her light-hearted laugh graced my ears, and I found myself confused. What is going on right now?

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet all of you." she continued, her freckled face beaming with happiness. "Feel free to browse my wares. All I ask is that you don't fire them indoors."

I nodded, and Alannah walked off. After the thudding of her boots faded away, I sighed to myself.

"Alright, I suppose we'll check things out while we're here." I informed my two companions. "Remember: don't pull any triggers while we're in this store."

My friends nodded, and we broke off to explore what quickly became my new heaven. Now, I'm a simple man: I use simple guns, and I kill people through simple means. However, some of the guns I saw on the racks that ran up and down the store in supermarket-fashion were simply...Beautiful. My boots barely made a sound on the wooden floorboards as I walked along one such aisle and stopped before a specific gun. It was smaller than your average rifle, but what caught my eye was the barrel. Instead of one hole where a single bullet would exit, there were several holes arranged in a honeycomb-like pattern.

"Ah, you found the scattergun." Alannah mused, stopping beside me. "Isn't she a beauty?"

"She?"

"Aye, she." the redhead confirmed. "I call her Betty, and she is quite the spitfire."

I chuckled, raising Betty and peering down her ironsights. "I can tell. What would happen if I pulled the trigger."

"For one, that would be a terrible idea." Alannah warned me, the color draining from her face. "Thankfully, the safety's on. to answer your question, Betty would release a shit ton of needle-like projectiles. There's a mode on the scattergun that causes these projectiles to become homing needles. While that sounds awesome, that mode causes the weapon to overheat."

"How many volleys can Betty get off in her normal mode before overheating?" I inquired, taking my gaze off the weapon to regard the woman beside me.

"Hmm...About five volleys back-to-back." Alannah replied. "I suggest you stagger the volleys just to be safe."

I whistled to myself. "Damn...For the amount of projectiles shot out of this beauty, that's really efficient. You built Betty?"

"Indeed I did." she confirmed, beaming with joy. The way her freckles seemed to glow every time she smiled caused a strange feeling to stir within me.

Hmm...Must be going crazy.

I was planning on responding when I spotted several figures through a window in the store. Judging by their dark garb and darker expressions, I felt my stomach drop.

Shit...Looks like trouble's coming.

Calmly, I handed the gun to Alannah and leaned forward: "There's friends outside. Don't worry, I'll deal with them."

She looked out the same window I was looking through and growled. "Damn...Those boneheads never learn. Don't worry, I'll scare em' off."

I leveled my gaze on her, and she returned my stare head-on. Looks like she doesn't back down easily. Good.

"It's my fault these assholes are here in the first place." I countered. "I'll make sure they won't be a problem for you any longer."

She cocked an eyebrow in response. "On your own?"

"Yes. Just keep an eye on Boreas and the kid. Make sure they don't follow after me."

What am I doing right now? I asked myself after Alannah hesitantly agreed to stay behind. I'm going to kill a bunch of gang members, and for what? To protect someone I hardly know?

It was when I looked at Boreas and Alex as they continued to explore this store when I finally found my answer. I'm protecting them, after all. And besides, Alannah isn't that bad of a person. Maybe Boreas is right: maybe I shouldn't be so reclusive...