"Alright lady and gentlemen, we best be off." Samuel walked over to the tent after a couple of hours. The group had been provided with light travel rations but not nearly enough to sate Nocturn's hunger and he could hear the drum beat in his head. The group walks out to see the camp being cleaned up. "We will be setting camp past the warehouse, the camp should be set once we have gotten what we needed." The diplomat explained. Observation would show that the soldiers are all in power suits and are equipped with a myriad of weapons, varying from assault rifles and larger strapped on their back, melee weapons and smaller firearms holstered on their belt, and some even sported an arm guard or buckler on their arm. A few also had a gas mask similar to Marc's strapped on their belts.
Samuel led them to the trucks that were being loaded up, most were stocked with tents and other such supplies but one was empty and he directed them towards that one. A few men were already on the truck and Marc was in the driver's seat. "You'll have to fit on the back, but we'll be making our way to the warehouse right now." He got into the passenger seat of the truck while the four will load up onto the back. Trading pleasantries with the soldiers they were sitting with, the truck revved up and they were soon on their way. Signs that they were approaching the warehouse was the sound of explosions and gunfire. Soon the truck slowed to a stop and Marc and Samuel helped the group out. "We'll be heading out here, the rest will wait here, the dealer doesn't like a crowd." Samuel led them towards the warehouse where they can see the flash of lights and smoke accompanied by loud bangs and blasts. Once they reached the establishment, Marc stands to the side while Samuel and the rest enter the warehouse. The warehouse is very neat, boxes lying about filled with cushioning that held ammunition and firearms. A robot was milling about, storing away gear when it looked up to see the group walk in.
"Aahhhh, Master Samuel, good to see you. I shall grab Master Oz." The robot floated away into the furthest room and soon came out with the spiky-haired merchant of death. He had dark bags under his eyes but a fire in his eyes.
"Oh it's you. Well I do hope you brought your money and your men, your order isn't small in any way, shape, or form." Oz smiled crookedly as he placed down an assault rifle, smoke still drifting out of the barrel.
"Is it this?" Samuel indicated to the boxes Wirston was loading.
"No no," Oz shook his head, "these are for my other clients, your's is in the back. Wirston will show you. I'll finish up here." He waved Wirston away and the robot with a simple nod of its lens, moved towards the door and Samuel followed. He waved the group down. "No need for you to follow, we'll get our men to do it, simply rest here." He walked out and Marc joined him to follow the robot.
Oz began loading up the boxes Wirston had left behind and once he was done, sat down to finish up with what looked like a pair of eyes. The mask hummed in Nocturn's head. "This boy... is more than what meets the eye. I want his soul. It has aged, like a fine wine. Much more refined and potent than the souls I have seen in this world. And it has a special sweetness to it, one of hope. A rare flavor. You must obtain it for me."