Matt did his best to keep his feet moving up the stairs but it was hard on him. His head still ached and now and again his balance was knocked sideways as his ears hadn't completely recovered yet. It was almost relief when he was set down against the wall, sliding down to sit. If he could just sit for a moment...

Nope. He's pulled into a small room that smells sharply of gun oil and factory made steel. Matt found a metal shelf to hang onto as he tried to get his bearings. "...where are we?" he asks with a cough.

There's rows and rows of guns, explosive devices, crossbows, knives, clips, parachutes...a criminal's candy store.