Zakhar Hahn Goff's Story

Zakhar

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The boyish grin had not drained from Zak's pleasant expression as he tilted the daggers in his hand, taking in the look of the flawlessly polished blade, and the intricate designs on the handles. The doctor had begun to speak, but Zak was too at peace with his new gadgets and kept his head lowered, breathing in the designs and executing ways to take down his enemies with his stylish new device.

"Once you've received your weapon of choice, please make your way to the training simulator. You'll be escorted by staff members. There, you'll train with your new weapons for no longer than an hour, and retire to your rooms. Have a nice night." The last bit was almost sarcastic, as he turned with a flat and grim expression to walk back down the lonely hallway.

Zak stood from his seat, slipping his daggers into their holster and making his way to the group of doctors and nurses who waited, ready to lead the Psi to their training area. He had heard of the simulator once before, but last a doctor spoke of it, it had been facing tremendous errors and glitches, and wasn't ready for use. Supposedly, with the click of a few switches and buttons, you could arrive in a completely new place, and face insidious beasts that don't even serve to exist in the real world. Any chance to use his daggers, however, was worth following orders.

"Would you be a dear.." he spoke, slipping his arm around the waist of the nearest doctor, which quickly put a red-faced damper on her stuck-up, geeky persona. "And take my friend and I to this.. 'simulator'?"

She nodded, grinning at him inarticulately. He had followed her in a closer range than what seemed appropriate for the situation, his play at cards in keeping the woman uneasy and pressured, ready to crumble under any whim he so-pleased. This was in fact, how he got his way around this place. Not by intimidating those around him with anything fearful. More so, intervening in their personal space or winning their affection in any possible form.

She had led him to an average-looking wooden door, labeled "VTS" and slipped her card through the slot. The door opened, revealing a giant dome-shaped room outlined in white panels. Just next to the door were a pair of stairs, which led to the control room.

"Why don't you wait here for the others. I'll get the system started up." The woman winked at him, her high heels tapping the paneled stairs as she disappeared into the control room. Zak sighed and leaned back against the wall and sighed at the irritation of having to wait for the others. The room was pure white, the panels hardly showing creases as they lined the spherical shape of the room. They wouldn't have long to practice, and the doctors had made it apparent that they were rushing training. War would come much sooner than Zak had imagined, the idea to him wasn't pleasant, but no more pleasant than the thought of forever being trapped behind the white prison walls of OKARI.

Francis shuffled aside to make space as Vein’s seemingly buzzing figure squeezed itself in between Zahkar and he, interrupting his musings. He’d been observing Zahkar’s expression with a tingling sense of dread and discomfort. Even though the red haired man had inclined his head, hiding his features from his view, Francis could feel the quiet vibe of anticipation and excitement fixated in his actions. Francis’ own expression formed a delighted frown as he spotted a similar grin wrapped across Vein’s cheeks. The irritation from her competitiveness seemed to finally affect his being, causing him to shrug dismally before raising an eyebrow at her whip. “You guys are enjoying this alot” He commented whilst scratching the back of his head. “Though, I can’t tell if you’re all serious or not with those choice of weapons”

His head cocked to the side, Francis’ shoulders slackened comically as he spotted Anrie returning from the weapons rack, treasuring a sword in her hands. “However, since it seems so many of you enjoy close combat; I should have plenty of shields to hide behind when things get hairy” He grinned with mock humour. Francis’ eyes glanced over the final two members, clearly wondering if Irene and Jane's decisions would follow the same trend. Irene’s rifle of choice seemed to appease his curiosity however, causing him to release an inaudible sigh of relief as the woman returned to her seat silently.

At that point they were instructed to advance to the training room. Francis followed after Zahkar as he approached one of the awaiting female doctors, encouraging the woman to lead them to the VTS room. He chuckled lightly at him as Zahkar wrapped an arm around her, reminded of how he’d brought some of the Psis coffee earlier. They arrived in front of an unassuming door not long after. Hidden behind the wooden panel was a vast, empty void. Idly, Francis’ gaze reflected of the white panelled walls before being drawn to the centre of the domed roof. Like a diligent snail, the doctor retreated back to her control room, leaving Francis alone with Zahkar to ponder if OKARI had fixed the machine since he’d last heard of it.

He caught a frustrated sigh from the other man as he leant against a wall and in return smiled with amusement. “So friend, any theories on what we’ll fight?”

Anrie Ackerman

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Anrie glanced at the weapon choices of the last few people to go after finishing her own inventory check and securing the belt snug against her hips. The old man spoke up and she turned to face him stiffly, prepared for any orders they were to receive. Would it be a job like assassination, smuggling, or blackmail? She felt that she was ready, especially with the new weapon in her petite hands.

"Once you've received your weapon of choice, please make your way to the training simulator. Staff members will escort you. There, you'll train with your new weapons for no longer than an hour, and retire to your rooms. Have a nice night." The last bit was almost sarcastic, as he turned with a flat and grim expression to walk back down the lonely hallway. Anrie watched his retreat before continuing to examine the hall. Was Santaio coming to get her? Anxiety fluttered around in her emotions before she pushed it away and walked up to a stationed nurse quietly. “Can you please escort me to the simulator? I don’t know my way there.” The nurse frowned causing Anrie to glance away awkwardly before straightening and gesturing towards the door. “Please? Lead the way.”

With a sigh the rail thin nurse bounced towards Anrie’s destination. She didn’t bother for conversation and mutually it was the same. Once there, the nurse nodded and pointed at the room before prancing off with a grumble or two. Anrie scrutinized her, fingers twitching to hurt her. How dare she criticize her for being directionally challenged. Santaio was way better than her. Santaio would have led her directly there then made sure she was inside. Anrie stuck up her tongue before composing herself to make her way inside.

Her stoic expression, eased and relaxed, took in the scene. Zakhar and Francis were already here and she nodded a greeting at both even though they had been together not yet even an hour ago. She minutely took in the machine but had been prepared to see what she saw, so instead she took interest in propping up against the wall and listening to the conversation placed between Zakhar and Francis.

Zakhar Hahn Goff

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A soft buzzing filled the room, and the white panels of the dome turned into one solid blue sky, with clouds floating just inches in front of them. Before Zakhar could reach out to timidly touch the clouds, the room filled with the disturbing images of white noise, before changing to a tall field of grass. The blades reached Zak's stomach, and reaching out, he was able to brush them aside and feel the rough skin of the plant. Looking up, the sun was setting behind a small barn, about a mile away.

"Travel to the barn in the distance." a voice broke through, the noise clearly emanating from a speaker. "There, you will find a small training arena, where you will try out your new weapons on wooden targets. After you've gotten comfortable with your new equipment, you will be given a stronger opponent. Good luck."

Just as the speaker dimmed to a quiet buzz and cut off, Zak took to his feet, his boots sinking in as they hit the damn mud floor. The blades of grass almost seemed to separate for him, as he ran - dagger in hand - in the direction of the small barn. His chest beat heavily upon his arrival, but he felt more energized than he ever had. In front of him stood a small wooden gate, probably made for sheep or pigs. He simply stepped over the wood, and made his way to the life-sized wooden dummy that stood, sword and shield strapped to make-shift arms.

Smirking as he eyed down his opponent, Zak tossed one of his blades directly at the shield. The sharp metal sliced through the shield like a knife to a soda can. An excited smirk crawled onto Zak's face as he removed the dagger with a quick jerk, and stood back, ready to destroy the little wooden man.

Irene looked up as the man spoke again, her ears almost seeming to perk up with anticipation. Training with a new, fancy weapon was something that cheered her up. It was, oddly, one of the few things that made her feel totally at peace. Making sure of the security of her weapons, Irene stood, watching a moment as the others filed out, before she followed Anrie and the irritable nurse Anrie had chosen to lead her. If a walk and a silence could be filled with disdain, this was it. Irene wanted to laugh at the nurse's pettiness over something as simple as guiding them to the simulator. Anrie seemed irritable as well and Irene nearly laughed when she stuck her tongue out at the nurse's retreating form.

When Anrie went through the door and into the room, Irene did let out a single laugh that sounded almost like a bark. A true smile, at least a true smile for Irene, was on her face. It was actually one that would be visible to anyone, no matter how little they knew of Irene's usual body language. She quickly slipped in, not wanting the door to close and leave her stranded outside, her face once again blank and calm. It would be embarrassing to need to knock. Inside was a room she was fairly familiar with, having trained there several times. The panels, white of course, covered the entire domed room. Some unimpressive, also white, stairs lead up to the control room.

Irene wondered at the short length of this training session. It was not like any of them had much else to do, so why so short? What exactly was going to be thrown at them? Irene shifted her rifle, ready to use it at a moment's notice. The scene changed, from the default clouds, to fuzziness, to tall grasses with a structure outlined by the setting sun in the distance.

The instructions from the speaker caused Irene to adjust the rifle once more before she ran after Zakhar. Several feet from the gate, Irene abruptly stopped, immediately sidestepping to the right through the tall grasses. She crouched down, immediately hidden in the rough grass. Lying flat on her stomach despite the mud, she quickly set herself up and made sure of her position. She was hidden in the back by the grass, several yards from where she and Zakhar had been running before. From this position, she could clearly see the barn and the wooden targets, having a clear shot on all but one or two. From the barn, however, she would be difficult to spot unless one knew exactly where she was.

She watched one of the wooden dummies, carefully clicking off the safety. She lined it up in her sights, slowly inhaled and exhaled, the rest of her body as still as a statue as she pulled the trigger. Almost magically, at least to Irene, a small hole appeared in the dummy's forehead just an inch or so from the center. Irene realized the recoil on this rifle was a bit more than she was used to as she rubbed her newly aching shoulder. She was slightly disappointed with her aim as well. She had been aiming for the center of the forehead. Irene prepared for another shot, repeating the routine before another hole appeared, this one as dead center as one could get without measuring.

Francis started as the scenery changed abruptly before him. Tall fields of grass greeted his field of vision as Francis allowed a small gasp of shock to escape him. Instinctively he began surveying his surroundings and spotted the small silhouette of a barn at the same time as Zahkar. “Pretty nice” He grinned childishly, waving his hands between the grass blades.

As the overhead voice instructed them to advance, Francis found himself enjoying the change of scenery, even if it was fake. The rough texture of the fields of grass combined with the immature sun set a picturesque scene with the barn as the centrepiece. At that time, he felt like he was in a painting.

Zahkar’s and Irene’s hastened movements invited him to follow. He kept pace effortlessly, tracking Zahkar’s distinguishable red hair as the other man moved ahead. As he sprinted the grass didn’t seem to separate for him so much as it seemed to disappear to make way for him. Francis spotted the quant wooden fence representing the barn’s boundary ahead of him and leapt over it. Briefly, he realised Irene’s presence had suddenly vanished and wondered how’d the woman had hidden herself so fast.

Beyond the fence where several life sized mannequins. Mock illusions of men carrying shields and swords. Stopping to aim, Francis simply hosed the closest dummy with bullets, sending smoking woodchips splintering into the dirt. He unloaded half a magazine before his finger let go of the trigger, leaving only a deformed trunk of wood in the aftermath. “It’s a surprisingly accurate simulation” His pleasant tone hummed followed by another burst of gunfire and a second ruined dummy.

Zakhar Hahn Goff

---

After a few moments of slicing and stabbing, what once was a wooden dummy in front of Zak, was now a crumbling pile of wood. He waited, watching the makeshift corpse as it was slowly covered by a grid of black and green, before disappearing one pixel at a time. "Releasing Second Target." The same speakers announced as one of the doors on the barn opened, revealing a large golden tiger, her face pulled back into a snarling expression as she opened her jaw and let out a loud feline growl rip through the air.

Zak wondered what the others would receive as a second target, but as soon as the thought raced through his mind, the large wild cat was making her way towards him. Her fur glistened in the evening sun, revealing strong muscles that shifted as she took a step closer to Zak. He grinned and lowered himself, his eyes locked onto the giant cat as her movements became quicker. Her hind legs kicked her heavy body into the air as she let out a cackling roar. Zak quickly dodged out of the way of the incoming beast, taking a few steps back. He enjoyed the game of cat and mouse. His time was limited in this false reality, and he planned to spend every second fighting.

Francis rolled instantly, allerted by the heavy growls of something large and heavy bearing down on him from behind. No sooner had he done so did a set of giant sharpened claws impale the ground where he'd just stood. Francis spat as he rolled back up to his feet and took a fighting stance, his eyes meeting the beady black orbs of his opponent's. The brown bear roared and raised its back upright as if to meet his challenge. The wall of imposing fur stood almost a meter taller than him, making Francis look almost small and meager in comparison. "Second target eh? Seems i got a big one" Francis grinned as he glanced over at the Zahkar's leaping tigress. He could tell the red haired man was enjoying this. The bear roared drawing his attention to it once more, its thick voice seemed to reverberate the very air around them before it settled down on all fours and charged.

It's roar was met by a different kind of roar alltogether. The roar of gunfire. Francis dashed backwards swiftly, seeking to maintain his distance from the bear as his sub machine pistol rained down bullets on the the simulated mammal. Twenty... thirty, even forty bullets only served to fuel its anger it as the creature sought to disembowel Francis like a corner rat caught in its deathrows. 800 pounds of flesh crashed forwards like an earthquake as the bleeding monstrosity finally reached him, its arms drawn back in preparation to swipe.

Francis paused then simultaneously pushed his body and his legs downwards. Using the momentum, he slipped past the bear's first strike then span away casually to dodge the second strike he knew was coming. His other sub machine pistol was already prepared as Francis hosed down the bear at close range. Dozens of bullets shredded fur and flesh as his finger squeezed the trigger. Although it was slowing, the bear was driven by an apparent rage and reared around to strike Francis one last time. It threw a massive paw at the pony-tailed man, its claws like mini spears. Any ordinary man would've died instantly from such a swipe, but Francis was no ordinary man. A heavy thump, followed by a grunt as Francis' left arm caught the underside of the bear's paw, seemingly preventing it from moving any further. His right arm came from the other side as the barrel of his gun dug into the side of the bear's head. Surprise almost seemed to register across the bears face from the realisation of its situation.

Then, a final bark of gunfire before the bear fell. Francis had already snapped in another clip before the corpse could pixelate, he, unlike Zahkar didn't enjoy playing.

….

Anrie Ackerman

Anrie startled her body loosening, as a soft humming filled the room, and the white panels of the dome turned into one solid blue sky, with clouds floating just inches in front of them. Anrie watched mystified by the unknown scene and soon the white noise eased, left with a very realistic scene. The scene painted a barn in the distance and she inhaled, feeling the sun graze her skin and embrace her in what felt like a humid blanket. However, she guessed the temperature had to be lowering as the sun began to set as well.

"Travel to the barn in the distance." a voice broke through her distractions, "There, you will find a small training arena, where you will try out your new weapons on wooden targets. After you've gotten comfortable with your new equipment, you will be given a stronger opponent. Good luck."

Anrie stood quietly, letting her presence diminish as Zakhar ran off first. Anrie didn’t bother staying behind and jogged, hand on the handle of her weapon, prepared for anything. She wouldn’t be brazen about just rushing into battle but a flutter of excitement settled in her breast nevertheless. She reached the mannequins right as a small hole appeared in the forehead of the wooden mannequin she had aimed to attack first. She paused, glanced back, then nodded and lunged forward, slicing cleanly through the wood, accuracy completely on point with her intuition for which spot was weakest on the dummy. She danced back before pausing minutes later, bored with wooden targets. She had cut the heads off several and now had grown very tired of the game.

Anrie wandered away, phasing through the wooden gate with ease. She made it a ways back towards the beginning spot but a sharp growl made her stop mid-step. The beast of a man stood above her, and his face was shadowed so she could not make out his features. He held a dagger in his left hand and his shoulders hunched just a bit. Anrie raised her blade tip just slightly, readying it to slash his hand off if he decided to use the dagger. The man lunged forward and Anrie went with the flow, falling back on her heels but right as the man got on top of her she phased through him and whipped around, blade rounding on his shoulder. She sliced clean through the shoulder blade and blood sprayed, arcing and splattering her cheek. The man didn’t stop though, of course not. He wasn’t even human to begin with since he was probably just a computer program but the glee of seeing the blood spray was sensual in it’s own way. The man turned, staggering towards her like a zombie.

The dagger twirled before it was flying through the air, the wind howling at it hurled towards her face. Anrie phased and felt her molecules pulled and she knew that when she solidified, there would be a red mark. His metal of choice must have been titanium. “Bastard.” She lunged as she solidified and felt the tip of the blade strike straight through his heart. The man waved his arms, gripping the blade, but she pushed her weight into the next strike, slicing through the rest of his body. Sweat stood out on her brow now, but this time the man lay thoroughly dead below her. She raised a hand to her cheek and clucked her tongue, utterly passive.