Location: Conference Room, Umbra Operations HQ.Dallas, Texas, USA
Time: 11:50 am
Lyra shook her head slightly, voice laced with a hint of mockery, and a touch of careful observation."You really don't bother hiding your arrogance, do you? … Commander, Sorry, Arthur."
She deliberately glanced at his narrowed eyes, catching the shift before correcting herself."So, would you mind telling me, what's your favourite weapon?"
Graves let out a low grunt of acknowledgment. He didn't seem to mind her question, in fact, he looked rather pleased by her choice of words. With a lazy confidence and clear pride, he pointed to the top rack.
"Personally, this one. Custom M4A1.Shortened barrel, extended range, near-perfect accuracy.I added a vertical foregrip for better handling, a laser for faster target acquisition, and a high-end scope that makes long-distance shots feel like cheating.I can hit a headshot at over 500 yards.Go ahead, try it, Lyra girl."
She lowered her gaze to the weapon, even though she was familiar with the M4A1,but didn't rush to lift it. Instead, she took it in her hands, quietly gauging the barrel length with the curve between her thumb and index finger.
"If longer range was the goal, why modify one of the most common standard-issue rifles in the U.S. military instead of choosing something else entirely?"
"Wind Storm and Umbra's early collaboration started with M4-compatible kits, after all, for consumables like attachments, Eastern manufacturing has better cost-efficiency."
Graves smirked faintly, like he appreciated her insight."Good question,Sweetheart." He muttered. "But for me, it comes down to one word, convenience."
He turned toward her, a sharper edge entering his tone."Some guys like their guns long, heavy, and think it makes them look more masculine. Not me.I like it compact, easy to carry, agile when it counts.
Sure, long rifles reach farther, but in close quarters? They're oversized fire pokers that slow you down.Short barrels are faster, more versatile, and it keeps you alive."
Lyra nodded, adjusting her grip. The modified M4A1 felt lighter in her hands, more balanced. Even with her smaller frame, she could keep it steady with ease.
"Understood. This isn't just a personal preference, this is hard-earned field logic."
Graves let out a low chuckle, sounding like she'd hit the bullseye."Exactly, sweetheart. You got it.Preference, backed by experience.I like to think I can work with any weapon, but everyone's got a favorite, right?
This compact M4A1 is mine.Light, straightforward, gets the job done. And truth be told, if you ever get into hand-to-hand with one of these, it hits just as hard as the big guys. Maybe harder."
Lyra looked at him, gaze steady and measured."As the pinnacle of American small arms, it's certainly proven itself across modern combat scenarios.Your preference suits you, practical, with a hint of nostalgia."
Hearing her say his full name so naturally made his smile twitch upward, like she'd slipped and he'd caught it."Damn, sweetheart. That's almost flattering." "Yeah, I'm a practical bastard, and yeah, what can I say?I've got a soft spot for the old faithfuls."
He leaned a bit closer, voice still rough but slower now."But I'm really curious what you think of the rest of my collection.You don't look like you're just here for the tour.You actually know your way around this stuff, don't you? Tell me, what catches your eye?"
Lyra returned the M4A1 and asked, calm as ever:"Then would you mind telling me which one is your second favorite?"
Without missing a beat, Graves grabbed the long matte-black rifle beside him. He placed it on the metal table with the same care someone might use for a sleeping animal.
His fingers traced the gun's surface, every inch like muscle memory.
"Accuracy International AXMC."He looked up at her, tone cool and just a little smug.".338 Lapua Magnum, .300 Win Mag, 7.62 NATO, pick your poison.City, jungle, mountains, she'll adapt."
His thumb popped open the bolt with near-silent precision."Stable accuracy up to a thousand meters. Max range? Two thousand, if I'm in a good mood. Foldable stock, easy to transport. Looks heavy,but it's not the kind of weight that slows you down. It's the kind that ends fights."
He locked the bolt back in place and looked at her again."I don't go flashy. This isn't for showing off,it's for clean finishes. You hold it, you'll get it,it's not a weapon. It's an insurance policy. It's expensive, sure. But it's not valuable. What's valuable… is what it's done for me."
Lyra stepped closer and placed her fingertips on the weapon. The black folding stock, the precision-cut barrel, radiated something steady, merciless. Not a tool. A decision.
"Heavy."Graves smirked."Not the lightest, not the fastest, but the deadliest. Cold. Unforgiving. Once you raise it to aim, you won't feel the weight. All you'll be thinking about is wind drift."
He moved behind her, slow but deliberate. She didn't flinch."Let me load it for you."He slipped in a round, locked the bolt with a quiet click.
"Hear that? That sound means someone's got 0.6 seconds left to live."
Lyra looked up, voice even and sharp."Clean design. No intention to flatter the user. Pure execution, no sentiment. Once the target's locked,it doesn't back down. I see why you like it. Because it's exactly like you."
The moment she said it, the air tightened. Graves, arms still crossed, stood up straighter. His expression cooled, not angry, just... unreadable."I'm not like it."
His voice was low, not defensive, just firm."It kills without asking why. I think before I act. But once I do,I don't look back."He stepped closer, tone dropping further."So, Lyra...You'd better think carefully about what showing up in front of me might lead to."
She didn't blink. Just watched him, then placed the AXMC back onto the table."I don't know much about guns. My exposure to them is strictly professional.After all, I'm the one approving tons of weapons development budgets and procurement requests."
She looked up again, voice calm."So tell me Sir, what's your third favourite?"
Graves chuckled roughly, clearly enjoying how far this was going.He pointed to a sleek black pistol nearby. "Sweetheart, this one's number three."
He picked up the Glock 17, spun it with practiced ease, fingers sliding across the frame like it was second nature."My standard-issue sidearm. So practical it's almost boring."
He flipped it once, caught it effortlessly."Fits in a belt holster like a dream. Light enough to carry all damn day. Fires a nearly full mag in 1.5 seconds. Accurate. Steady. Like your first tax return."
He looked her way again, grin curling at the edges of his mouth."Not flashy-useful.Lifesaving-useful.And if you like it, I'll get you one."
"This is the standard sidearm across military and law enforcement units,lightweight, reliable.9mm caliber with a 17-round magazine that balances firepower and endurance.
The three-dot sight system ensures stability and accuracy during operation.Like the M4A1, it uses a modular design, making it easy to customise and upgrade."
Lyra nodded slightly, voice steady and precise:"It reinforces your approach as a front-line commander, prioritising stability, portability, and adaptability in complex combat environments."She glanced at him, adding lightly:"A practical taste. Very much in character."
Graves gave a rough laugh, clearly pleased with her assessment. He nodded, voice loud and amused:"Damn right, sweetheart. That's about the most accurate description I've heard, for the gun and for me."
"The Glock 17's basically standard issue across every military branch and police department in the country.Easy to handle, performs like a beast, and gets the job done. This thing's tough as hell,I take it with me everywhere."
Lyra picked up the pistol, examining it with calm scrutiny. Her tone didn't change:"There are similar models in Eastern systems.It's a textbook service weapon. A loyal companion."
Graves let out a laugh, genuine, almost too loud, and nodded without hesitation: "You've got no idea, sweetheart. This Glock 17? She's my shadow."
"Close-range, long-range, whatever the fight calls for, she's in my hand.She's saved my ass more times than I can count.Professionally, she's the one I trust the most."
"She's never let me down.And I'm sure as hell not planning to let her down either."
Lyra studied him.They'd only spent a brief moment together, yet the trust he placed in these weapons was almost overflowing from his eyes.
She recalled Mulan's reminder: the rarest gift is understanding. And the simplest way to step into a man's inner world?
Not hard neither: Say what he wants to hear. Do what he loves to do. Learn about him. Admire him. Ask for his advice and then try to carry it out. This sort of psychological game almost made her smile quietly, wryly. So this was the fabled "cultivation strategy"?
So she nodded, calm but precise, choosing her words with intent:"Technically, I own weapons manufacturing assets.Ammunition and firearms are produced under my name every day.But… I don't actually own a gun myself."he glanced up at him, voice steady:"If I wanted my first, what would you recommend, Arthur?"
He paused for a second, clearly considering her seriously before answering: "If you're looking for something to carry, I'd say go with a Glock 17.Light, good stopping power, easy to maintain.But if it's something to keep in a room or stash somewhere for defense,go for a 12-gauge pump-action shotgun.The Mossberg 590A1 is solid. Reliable as hell. Easy to use. Damn near impossible to break."
Lyra tilted her head slightly and replied matter-of-factly:"I've always been a little worried about the 590A1's recoil.I'm not fond of shoulder bruises."
Graves raised an eyebrow, amused by her concern. He let out a low chuckle, voice gravelly and teasing:"Oh, sweetheart… you really don't need to worry about that.Sure, it kicks. But with the right stance and grip, it's easy to handle.Trust me. Especially with that cute little frame of yours, hell, I could teach you how to eat recoil like it's nothing."
Lyra didn't flinch, just looked up at him and said evenly:"I did briefly own a custom Desert Eagle once. Beautiful weapon. But honestly… not that practical."