Taz: Unleashed

The sniper rifle, pistol, ammunition, and flash grenade lie spread across the bench as the gun broker seals the transaction records. Behind her, the shielded cabinet locks with a heavy electronic clunk.

A brutal impact buckles the rear entrance. Red breach tones pulse through the room, and dust sifts from the ceiling as the door’s locking braces deform inward.

The gun broker reaches beneath the bench and kills the room’s green work lamps. Darkness folds around the weapons, the sealed cabinet, and the buckling entrance while breach metal screams again.

Taz goes still in the broker’s darkened room, letting augmented vision map heat, pressure, and vibration through the buckling rear entrance.

The four visible attackers wear Specter breach armor and carry compact rifles. Their shielded leader kneels behind the deformed door, while a second operator covers the cabinet wall.

Taz’s scan catches the arrangement, but a loose diagnostic arm clips the bench and gives one sharp metallic tap. Outside, the operators pause and adjust their aim.

The pistol, sniper rifle, ammunition, and flash grenade remain within reach. The broker stays behind the bench, while the breach team prepares to force the entrance.

Break out of the broker’s rear room with the broker and loadout

Taz holds position and narrows his augmented vision through the dark. Heat outlines four Specter operators, four adult human men in bulky dark breach armor with sealed helmets at the rear entrance, with a fifth body crouched low behind the breach shield.

The shielded leader occupies the center, one rifleman covers the cabinet wall, and two others bracket the doorway. Their muzzles angle inward toward the broker’s position.

The sniper rifle offers a controlled lane from the bench, while the pistol gives Taz faster movement in close quarters. The flash grenade can reach the stacked entrance.

The scan costs several seconds. Shield interference obscures the fifth operator’s weapon and exact posture, leaving that threat identified but not fully classified.

The operators begin forcing the braces again. Taz has the room mapped, the broker’s position protected by the bench, and the flash grenade within immediate reach.

Taz draws the discreet pistol and fires before the cabinet-side rifleman can shift. The round punches through his visor; he collapses against the cabinet, weapon clattering away.

With his off-hand, Taz snaps the flash grenade toward the stacked entrance. It skips beneath the shield and detonates in a hard white burst, swallowing the room in thunder and glare.

The broker ducks behind the bench. Outside, the shielded leader and two doorway operators stagger blind, their formation breaking as rifle muzzles swing wide.

Taz fires through the fading flash, controlled shots cutting across the entrance. The two bracketing operators drop, armor sparking, while the shielded leader folds behind his damaged brace.

The fifth operator rises into the muzzle lane, weapon still obscured by the shield. Taz fires twice; the figure jerks backward and goes still behind the breach gear.

Taz holsters the pistol, slings the sniper rifle, and bolts through the broker’s rear exit. Spent casings glitter behind him as alarms begin spreading through the market quarter.

He runs west through service alleys and beneath humming transit conduits, boots hammering damp concrete. Market cameras lose him among steam vents, stacked crates, and shifting blue light.

Taz reaches the freight ramp and surges up its incline. Beyond the perimeter, the Black Iron District falls behind him in neon haze, while open industrial streets spread west beneath the rain.

Rain tracks down Taz's coat as he slows beyond the freight ramp. The sniper rifle remains secured beneath it, while Black Iron District recedes behind him in neon haze.

Nyx pushes a transit map into Taz's ocular display. One line crosses the industrial lanes toward his old refuge, with several crowded transfers masking his movements.

At the platform’s edge, Taz folds the sniper rifle tight beneath his coat, locks its sling against his leg, and seats the discreet pistol inside an inner holster.

He buttons the coat to the throat, flips up the collar, and lowers his head as the train arrives behind a wash of rain and brake-light glare.

The rifle stays concealed beneath the heavy coat, its stock pinned against the seat frame. The pistol remains secured beneath layered fabric, invisible to passing eyes.

Taz boards with the crowd, choosing an empty side section. He keeps his shoulders rounded, collar high, and gaze lowered as the doors seal.

A sling buckle taps the seat frame during acceleration, sharp enough to draw one passenger, a young adult woman with a slim build, dark curly hair, and a rust-colored raincoat’s glance before the train plunges into the tunnel.

The glance passes, but a carriage camera catches the brief metallic movement. Taz remains alone, weapons hidden, while the train carries him toward his old spot.

Taz keeps his head angled toward the train floor, reading reflections in the dark window and tracking footsteps through vibration, airflow, and carriage movement.

At the stop before his destination, he rises with the crowd and exits without lifting his gaze. A shoulder seam brushes the doorframe, producing one brief scrape.

Taz leaves the platform with the commuters, crosses through a service arcade, and turns into a rain-darkened commercial lane instead of taking the direct street.

He loops around a loading court, changes direction beneath an elevated rail line, and crosses two crowded intersections before entering older residential blocks.

After several winding turns, Taz reaches his old spot through a rear access lane. The concealed entrance opens, and he slips inside with the rifle and pistol still hidden.