The Screaming Walls
This time, stripped of his equipment in his last encounter, he looked around the armory with a different perspective. After witnessing the ineffectiveness of conventional weapons against the seemingly impervious form of War, he was careful in what he chose.
Though this time, the options seemed to be different than the ones he was presented with before. In fact, nothing even seemed to be the same at all.
"...Huh, what's all of this?" He questioned in a mumble.
What were basic, standard-issue weapons before now had some unique traits to them; a broadsword with a black-and-gold handle and a crimson jewel embedded in its center; a bow that seemed to be made out of a snow-white, curly wood with a string that softly glowed.
There was a way to test the true nature of the weapons, or at least, what their existence meant; though his ability to hone in on mana was still vastly suppressed by unknown means, he held his hand forward and drew a calm breath through his lips.