'What the...' A young man, dressed in a grey T-shirt and pants looks around himself, arms in front of him, suddenly interrupted from whatever he was doing.

He pulls his arms close, entering a fighting stance and quickly looking around.

'Where am I?'

He is standing with his back to a white wall and all he can see is weapons of all shapes and sizes, piled haphazardly into shelves, tables, and racks.

The building he is in has no windows, and despite not seeing a light source, is well illuminated. The roof is at least 6 meters from the ground, and the opposing walls are about 8 to 9 meters away from each other. A few dozen meters away, he can see what appears to be empty space.

After carefully looking around, he slowly walks forward toward one of the shelves, keeping his guard up, wary of any sudden movement coming from beyond his line of sight.

He grabs what appears to be a dagger, and slowly starts to move around, looking around corners for anybody else who might be present.

He quickly comes to a conclusion there is no one else other than him in this... armory? Lowering the blade he starts to actually look at the weapons surrounding him. Noting there seems to be literally every type of weapon he has seen, and even weapons he has never seen before.

He lifts what appears to be knuckledusters with three spearheads attached to it, front, left, and right. 'What is this place? Storage? No, if that was that case all of these would be organized.' His eyes furrow in thought as he looks at a revolver with a three bullet capacity.

'I can't recognize most of these.' he thinks, examining a large bullet. 'More importantly, what brought me here?'

After a moment, he drops that train of thought. 'Let's look for a way out first.' He looks to the left where there seems to be an empty space. 'What's over there?'

He walks towards the field, picking up a few weapons along the way, just in case.

When he reaches the field edge he has a shield strapped to his left arm, a shortsword in his left hand, a pistol with a 17 round magazine in his right hand, three knives/daggers slid into his belt, an additional pistol, this one with a 6 round magazine in his right pocket, and 2 throwing knives in his left pocket.

The field has a floor made of rock, compared to the wooden floor of the weapon-filled area, and is empty, except for a table standing in the middle.

'What language is this?'

Inscribed upon the table, are characters foreign to his knowledge, but as he concentrates upon the writing, it's meaning appears in his mind.

{Please choose your equipment, when you have finalized your selection, please place them here, then press the button.}

'How the hell... Is this magic or something?'

After a moment he reads the words again.

'Choose my equipment?' He looks back towards the weapon-filled area. 'From all of those? For what? Am I going to fight?' Looking at the inscribed characters, he glides his fingers over them. 

'Is this the requirement to get out of here? But then what should I choose? There is too little information to make a good decision. How should I pick my weapons if I don't know what I'm going to be fighting?'

He walks around the field, trying to see if there is any more writing, any clues as to what he should do.

'Nothing.'

He then makes his way to weapon area, slowly and carefully observing every patch of wall, emptying the tables, and clearing the shelves.

'Is this... a chestplate?' He looks at the piece of metal in front of him for a moment.

'How do you wear this?' After a few minutes, he has armor on arms and legs as well. 

Continuing, he looks behind previously unseen boxes, that now have been smashed open to reveal two identical pistols, each with a 10 round magazine.

'Why were these not in the open?'

After approximately 20 minutes of searching, smashing open a few boxes and moving weapons, he stops.

'Hmm...' He looks at the many, many, different weapons around him.

'Guess I have no choice.'

He walks towards the table, places his sword to the left of the table and the pistol to the right, unbuckles the circular shield and throws it to the other side, where it land with a dull sound. He then pulls out his knives and lays them side-by-side to the sword. In the same manner he lay out everything he carried, bladed weapons to the left of the table, firearms to the right, armor and shield on the other side.

Then he goes back towards the weapon area, picks up a few of the smaller items, walks back to where he lay down the items, and sorts them out, after doing this a few times, he breathes in, then lets out a long breath.

'This is going to take a while.'

...

Approximately three hours later.

The man rubs his arms, feeling satisfied as he looks at his work.

'Everything's sorted out, now what?' He looks around, taking in the sheer amount of choices presented to him.

Even not bringing back weapons that appeared similar, he still had too many options.

Spear, Halberd, Trident, Javelins, Knives, Daggers, Longsword, Shortsword, Nunchaku, Staff, Baton, Shuriken, Kunai, Throwing knives, Saber, Katana, Naginata, Kusarigama, Whips, Chains, Mace, Knuckleduster, Claws, Crowbar, Wrist-mounted knives, and many more that he could not even name. There are more than 300 weapons in just this category.

Then he looked to the right.

Firearms, none of any make and model known to him, except for one.

'First time seeing one in real life, lighter than I expected.' Holding up an RPG-7, he looks down it's sights. 'Boom.' He chuckles, then sighs.

'But not very useful, same as everything else here. Limited ammunition means limited firepower, once I run out, all of these firearms become useless, except maybe for smashing something.' 

He looks towards the armor section, then places it down and towards the assortment of defensive equipment.

This assortment is the smallest with only 14 shields and about 40-50 pieces of armor.

'This, is by far, the easiest selection.' He thinks, as he picks up a pair of steel bracers and puts them on, followed by boots, shin guards and a chestplate, followed by a biker helmet along with the only pair of gloves that he found. 'Fingerless, but better than nothing.' Then he walks over and picks up two small knives, placing them into his left boot, on either side of his ankle, repeats for the other boot, then places two knives each into the straps of his shin guards, then he slides 6 small daggers and knives into his belt, followed by two daggers with sheathes into his pockets.

He looks at the more exotic weapons around him, before mentally shaking his head and looking away. 'I have no experience with them, better to stick to the basics.'

He picks up a sheathed sword that is attached to a belt, and straps it to himself, then picks up a spear. 

With a lot of spare knives and daggers on his body he made his way up to the table, and put everything on it.

Laying down the chestplate, he looked at his selection, then at all the sorted weapons around him.

'Is there anything else I can take with me? No... not without impeding my movement.' He exhales.

'Here we go.' He reaches out his arm, and presses the button.