Moby opens the stock and pulls out an empty NOS2 tank
"course it's not, but when your in my position, laws don't matter.". He inserts a new tank from the case and grabs a large 8" round and slots it in the chamber. He heaves the rifle up and grabs the long bolt, sliding it into place.
"it isn't an antimatter rifle, it's actually an excelerator carbine.". He lifts it up down the range, with his arm fully extended to keep the long thing up.
"my armor suit that I wasn't able to grab has recoil supports, but let's hope this dosnt blow my arms off..."
He takes aim at the farthest target and slaps off the electronic safety, looking through the goggle like scope.
At the trigger pull, the sound of a tank blast screams through the room and Moby now holds the rifle perpendicular with the ground from how powerful the recoil was. The round went clean through the target and through the wall on the other side. He slowly let's the rifle down.
"Glad it still works... Don't have much ammo I'll have to save it.". He slips back on the gear he had from riding.
Flicking his fists, 6" claws shoot through the top of his fingerless gloves. He retracts them by hitting a release on the side of the index finger knuckle with his thumb. He reaches to his hilt grabbing what appears as a sword handle. Hitting an activation it expands to a light broadsword and he swings it around before retracting it and quickly skidding it back into his utility belt. Reaching to his back he draws two five and sevens and empties the clips down the range before running them through a speed reloader on his hips and sheathing them again. He grabbs a small metal ball and hurls it down to the ground blasting smoke. When the smoke clears he's already 20ft away leaning on the wall, arms folded.
"I always knew the day would come when I'd need this stuff"