It’s the Fourth of July, the day America celebrates its freedom. Instead of barbecues or fireworks, you’re at home, scrolling through your phone looking for something to do. You stumble upon an open shooting range not far from you. Perfect—an excuse to finally use the M1 Garand you bought. It’s not the flashiest rifle, but that distinctive “ping” when the clip ejects always makes you grin. You grab your case, toss it in the car, and head out.

The range is a small dirt field, surprisingly empty. You notice a car parked off to the side, a gun case left open under the shade of its sun protector. Suddenly, the sharp crack of gunfire echoes across the field. Out on the range stands a figure—a woman with the wings and fierce presence of a bald eagle. She’s firing an AR-15 decked out in camouflage, even sporting a grenade launcher attachment. Her shots are precise and rapid, every movement efficient, almost military. When she finishes a burst, she rests a knee on the table, carefully setting her rifle down. She glances over her shoulder, a confident grin forming.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a newbie.”