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Name: Subject 4082; Dawn
Age: 4 months
Race: Biologically Engineered Human
EXP: 12,310
Level: 10 (F-Grade)
Major Class: None
Minor Classes: Close Combatant, lvl 10 (Max)
Skills:
Low-level Intelligence enhancement, lvl 3
Low-level experience boost, lvl 5
Combat Mastery, lvl 6
Polearm Expertise, lvl 4
Advanced Reflexes, lvl 5
Stealth and Ambush Tactics, lvl 4
Weapon Disarmament, lvl 2
Tactical Acumen, lvl 4
Sensory Training, lvl 4
Archery and Throwing Precision, lvl 3
Endurance and Stamina, lvl 8
Mental Resilience, lvl 5
First Aid, lvl 3
Recovery, lvl 9
Adaptive Combat, lvl 5
Counterstrike, lvl 3
Defensive Stance, lvl 4
Critical Strike, lvl 4
Chain Attacks, lvl 4
Whirlwind Assault, lvl 4
Increased Focus, lvl 12
Armor Piercing Strikes, lvl 5
Emotional Equilibrium, lvl 1
Meditative Transcendence, lvl 2
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The Grand Library had become her sanctuary. A realm where time melded into an amalgamation of past, present, and potential futures. As the days passed, Dawn felt an increasingly dualistic pull - the raw drive for combat prowess and the introspective journey of self-discovery.
Her mornings began with intensive combat training. Natasha's pointers and their sparring sessions, although much rarer now that she wasn't training under her all day every day, came in handy as she mastered the dance of offense and defense, every movement flowing seamlessly into the next. The combat room was a cacophony of clanging weapons, controlled grunts, and the soft whir of holographic simulations. She became a regular fixture there, earning nods of respect from others who were regulars there in their own free time.
Yet, the afternoons were a stark contrast. They were spent in quiet contemplation, nestled in the library's serene embrace. The scrolls provided her not only with technical knowledge but also philosophical insights. Stories of legendary figures became lessons in morality, choice, and sacrifice.
One scroll, in particular, resonated with her - the story of Orion, a warrior who sought balance between his raw power and his emotional vulnerabilities. It detailed his journey of introspection, of battles won not with a sword but with an understanding of oneself. Dawn felt an uncanny connection to Orion. Their paths were parallel, battling not just external foes but the internal tumult of emotions.
Inspired by Orion, Dawn delved into meditation. She discovered the technique of 'Meditative Transcendence', a practice that allowed one to momentarily disconnect from the physical realm and deeply connect with their inner self. This was more than just a mental exercise; it was an emotional and spiritual journey.
The Neural Enhancement Chamber's allure was always present, a whispered promise of exponential growth. Yet, she resisted, choosing to focus on holistic development. However, the world around her was not static. Word spread of her rapid progress, and with it came challenges.
She was frequently challenged to duels, often by lower ranked grunts who sought to test her mettle. While some were genuine tests of skill, others were fueled by ego and jealousy. Dawn took them in stride, using every encounter as a learning opportunity. She soon realized that it wasn't just about the physical prowess; understanding her opponent's psychology was equally crucial.
Emotions played a pivotal role. She began studying 'Emotional Equilibrium', a technique that allowed her to maintain calm and focus even under the most intense pressures. This became her secret weapon, an internal shield against the storm of emotions that battles often raged.
In between, snippets of conversations with Dr. Harmon provided a humane touch. They spoke of life beyond the facility, of dreams, aspirations, and the essence of existence. Dawn often wondered about her place in the grand scheme of things. Was she merely a tool for Venin, or was there a greater purpose awaiting her?
The month was a whirlwind of growth, both inward and outward. As the days culminated, Dawn stood at a crossroads. The Neural Enhancement Chamber's siren call was tempting, offering her a quantum leap. But there was a price to pay, the risks unknown.
Dawn was no longer the fledgling subject of a mere month ago. She was a force to reckon with, a balance of raw power and introspective wisdom. The choices she made now would shape not just her destiny, but perhaps the very future of Venin.
As she stood on the precipice of decision, a singular thought echoed in her mind - To leap or not to leap? The next chapter in her saga awaited. With only a single month remaining before her possible call to action awaited. So far, she still only had the single mission from the System. And she felt little had happened in regards to it. Either something brewing behind the scenes she was currently unaware of, or her progress had fended off the possible threats that would have been pushed her way if she were to be stagnant.
The first time Dawn entered the shooting range, it wasn't the sight that struck her most but the sounds. A staccato symphony of gunshots filled the air, some sharp and high-pitched, others deep and resounding. Each echoed with a unique timbre, telling tales of power, precision, and purpose.
A robust scent, a mix of spent gunpowder and lubricating oil, greeted her nostrils. It was a jarring departure from the musty serenity of the Grand Library, an unmistakable reminder that she was in a world crafted for combat.
Castor, her instructor, was the embodiment of rugged experience. His fingers, rough and calloused, bore the marks of years handling firearms. As he handed her the semi-automatic pistol, she noticed how much colder and harder it felt compared to the wooden shafts of her polearms.
"Breathe," Castor advised, watching her grip the gun hesitantly. "It's a different beast, this one. Not like your polearms. It won't bend to your will; you have to merge with its rhythm."
The initial shots were far from perfect. The pistol's recoil was a rude shock, sending an unexpected jolt up her arm. The sensation was foreign, raw, and uncontrollable. Her shots scattered across the target, none hitting the bullseye. The sound of her missed shots, a mockery in the midst of seasoned shooters, hung heavily in the air.
Castor watched her silently, letting her grapple with her uncharacteristic lack of proficiency. Dawn, usually so adept at physical challenges, felt the unfamiliar weight of frustration. Her fingers tingled from the force, her palm sweaty against the grip.
But with each shot, with each miss, she learned. The cold steel slowly warmed to her touch, becoming less of an object and more of an extension of her intent. She began to sense the gun's nuances—the slight vibration just before it fired, the subtle shift in weight as the magazine emptied.
Then came the sniper rifle, an instrument demanding utmost patience. The first time she peered through its scope, the world outside seemed distant, abstract. Lying prone, she felt the cold floor against her cheek, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat drumming in her ears. Time seemed to slow down, the space between each breath lengthening.
Yet, despite her growing comfort, mistakes were inevitable. A particularly tricky assault rifle became her nemesis. Dismantling it was a task in itself, its springs and screws threatening to scatter with the slightest misstep. One day, while reassembling, a spring sprung loose, disappearing somewhere in the recesses of the room. The metallic ping it made as it bounded away seemed to echo her own internal floundering.
It took her an entire afternoon to locate it. Every second felt like a testament to her failure, every whispered conversation of fellow trainees a potential judgment on her capability. But when she finally found it, nestled in a shadowed corner, the triumph wasn't just about the retrieved spring but her persistence.
Throughout this journey, Dawn's senses were constantly engaged. The textured grip of a gun handle, the metallic taste in the air after firing, the myriad sounds of bullets striking different surfaces, the varying recoils pushing against her stance, and the ever-present scent of gunpowder—all became integral to her experience.
And as days melted into each other, Dawn's relationship with firearms transformed. No longer were they just instruments of destruction but tools, each with its melody and rhythm. The shooting range, with its cacophony of sounds and whirlwind of emotions, had become another realm of learning, challenging her, molding her, and redefining her understanding of combat.
The month had seen her highs and lows, from the euphoria of hitting a distant target to the humility of grappling with her shortcomings. As the days waned, Dawn emerged not just with a new set of skills but a deeper understanding of herself and the myriad ways she could engage with the world.
Having found a sense of rhythm with traditional firearms, Dawn was eager to dive deeper into the arsenal Venin had to offer. She'd heard whispers of advanced weaponry, ones that transcended bullets and gunpowder, harnessing the very elements or the raw power of energy itself.
The first of these she encountered was an Electromagnetic Pulse Pistol, or EMP Pistol for short. At first glance, it resembled a sleeker, more futuristic version of the handguns she had been training with. But Castor, with a twinkle in his eye, explained its workings. "No bullets. It fires a concentrated burst of electromagnetic energy. Good for disabling electronic targets or, at a higher setting, rendering an adversary temporarily immobile."
The sensation of firing the EMP pistol was entirely different. There was no recoil, only a subtle hum as it charged and a sudden release as it fired. The air would crackle, hairs standing on end, as blue arcs of electricity darted towards the target. The smell was distinct too, an ozone-like scent, sharp and crisp, filling the air post-discharge.
After the EMP Pistol came the Photon Rifle. This weapon utilized focused beams of light energy. It had an elegance to it. The beam was almost silent, save for a slight sizzling sound, and the impact point was marked by a brief, brilliant flash of light. Dawn quickly learned the value of precision with this weapon; the beam would burn through most materials, making accuracy paramount.
One of the more challenging weapons to master was the Plasma Cannon. Heavier than anything she'd held before, it fired superheated gas encapsulated in an energy shell. The intense heat produced a different recoil sensation, a warmth radiating down her arms, and the discharge was accompanied by a low, resonating thrum. Targets hit by the Plasma Cannon were often left with smoldering, molten craters.
But it wasn't all smooth sailing. Dawn grappled with the unfamiliar timings and weights of these advanced weapons. The EMP Pistol, for instance, required a brief charge period before firing, demanding impeccable timing. The Photon Rifle's silent nature made it hard to judge the number of shots fired, while the weight and heat of the Plasma Cannon tested her endurance.
Training sessions with these weapons added another layer to her sensory tapestry. The bright flashes of the Photon Rifle illuminated the shooting range in ephemeral bursts of light. The heat of the Plasma Cannon warmed the cold, metallic ambiance. And the EMP Pistol introduced her to the electrifying dance of blue arcs, their erratic paths painting fleeting trails of light.
As she transitioned from one weapon to the next, Dawn was constantly adapting, learning, and growing. Each weapon, with its unique mechanics and sensory feedback, provided new challenges and insights. Castor often reminded her, "It's not just about mastering the weapon, but understanding its essence, its soul."
Her experiences with these energy-based weapons added depth to her combat prowess. She began to see the battlefield not just in terms of physical space but as an arena of energy interactions. Understanding when to use raw force, when to disable, and when to employ precision became a dance of strategy and intuition.
It was a dance that Dawn embraced wholeheartedly, moving with grace and confidence, each step, each shot, a testament to her relentless pursuit of mastery. The world of Venin's advanced weaponry, with its symphony of sparks, beams, and pulses, had become another chapter in her ever-evolving saga.
In her time of the shooting range, she had managed to pick up another set of skills. Heat Resistance and Aural Detection. The former gave her low levels of resistance to heat, while Aural Detection let her more easily tell the direction and distance for different weapons. As well as better ability to tell apart weapons from their sounds. Passive skills that would help her in almost any situation. However she also got some more specialized skills that she wasn't expecting to get so quickly. Disruptive Strategy let her prioritize disruption, be it disabling enemy shields, communications, or other tech-based defenses. Environmental Utilization, with the knowledge of how energy beams react with different materials (e.g., reflection, absorption), Dawn became adept at using her environment to her advantage, creating traps or amplifying her attacks.
However what she was most keen about was Quick Adaptation and Multi-weapon Coordination. That would let her pick up new weapons easier, as well as swap between weapons and techniques more fluently.