Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-33193530-20170927005402/@comment-27661770-20170927035038

Hunter had gone to the warehouse.

A lightsaber hung at his side, looted from the arm riped of a certain cyborg four-limbed general.

A SPAS-12 was strapped to his back, his trustiest weapon through nine years and half a month of on-and-off hell.

The motherboard-esque robes he wore certified him as a Wizard of Tech.

He probably had this one cinched already.

He grabbed the 'saber and used it to light the way in.