"Firepower, huh? Yeah, I can do that. Then ima go take a patrol of the Glade. I'll leave the paperwork to you." With heavy steps, the one-man tank marched in teh direction of the firing range. Most doors weren't constructed for his bulk, but he really didn't mind. He simply raised a foot, and made his own door. It was fairly obvious that if this had been the second floor, Micheal would likely would have sunk through the floor like it had been wet tissue paper.

The firing range currently accommodated several of Helios' elite troops. Specialists in their particular fields, each armed with high-tech weaponry of one variant or another. As Micheal took his place however, he knew he'd draw some looks. His weaponry and armour was a step above most, the newest of the new.

First, he chose to demonstrate perhaps his most impressive weapon. The Magnetic Pulse Generator, or the Power Glove as he liked to call it. The Gauntlet was equipped with a series of powerful electromagnets that could be rearranged to form a variety of patterns. They functioned as a kind of railgun, rapidly accelerating any metal thrown object to supersonic speeds. It could further be used as a shield that deflected incoming bullets, and a piston allowed it to fire part of the gauntlet forward. Thus punches with his right hand could hold the power to crush even heavy tank armour, as it was briefly accelerated to nearly supersonic speeds.

A large block attached to his right shoulder ejected what appeared to be a tank shell. He caught it, and extended his hand towards the target range. An automatic targetting system wtihin his helmet allowed him to aim with impeccable accuracy. As the electromagnets fired, the shell launched with a short bang. It exploded upon contact, annihilating not only the target, but the wall behind it, and anything else within 3 meters of it. Shrapnel tore through bricks like butter, as the tungsten high-penetration tip continued through the back of the facility. It was a good thing the target range pointed out towards a forest, because that tip was intended as an anti-tank weapon.

His other weaponry would have to wait. Micheal felt he'd left the impression he needed to leave. Equipping himself with his modified Heavy Flame Thrower and a secondary shoulder-mounted fuel canister, he left the facility. He'd been stuck in a lab for two years now, moving through training simulations, fighting captured foes, practising combat in a variety of martial arts. And all the time he'd hungered for some action, to personally bring the light of civilisation to the savage mutants. And he had the intention to do just that, as he set out to find the rebel base. If he did, he would singlehandedly bring it crashing down, or at least so he believed.