[center][h2][color=6ecff6]ELI[/color][/h2][b]Simulation Room, New Anchorage[/b][/center]
[hr]
It had felt like an hour in the virtual simulation room for Eli. As requested Lofgren had set parameters that would not allocate for failure, though Eli had never before experienced pain on such an intense level in her life outside of maybe the installment of her neural implant into her spine some time ago. But still, it was a surprise; and the room was still catching her off guard despite herself having a decent amount of experience with the simulation pods she had become so used to. Here, in VR, everything was more vivid… more [i]intense[/i] to the point where it felt like even the mildest injury would feel like a severe one. Doctor Lofgren had, of course, warned her about this fact when she inquired about her experience with VR but Eli didn’t [i]care[/i] even with the neural pain as overpowering as it was. 

And given the armed guards that Lofgren had emulated, Eli had more experience getting shot than she had ever been before. Even she could tell that the experience between the pods and VR were far apart— the VR room was in a completely different league.

And it all looked so... [i]real[/i].

Scrambling behind cover, Eli took what moments of peace it offered to try and steady herself. It was not an easy task. She felt like holes had been torn through her, which might not have been far from the truth, but all the same, it made keeping a steady grasp on her blade [i]and[/i] remaining focused difficult. 

[color=6ecff6]It doesn't hurt.[/color] 

She repeated it over and over again until the voice stopped sounding like her own. [color=6ecff6]It doesn't hurt, Elizabeth, you're not in pain, you're fine. Move. Now.[/color]

Clutching the kukri close to her chest, she inched her head around the farside of her cover, trying to get a peek at what might be approaching.

Two blasts from her programmed enemy’s own weapons nearly hit her as she did so. 

The enemies were soldiers, designed as some sort of default setting to prepare staff for what to do in case of an enemy siege of New Anchorage’s facilities. There was an unease in Eli and whilst Lofgren had programmed the situation as per Eli’s request that there would be no failure option— this meant that they would shoot her until she fell into unconsciousness or [i]worse[/i]. But Eli didn’t exactly give the blue-haired woman time to explain the ramifications of “neural death” before running headfirst into VR. 

The situation was difficult; her back was pressed against a flipped table in the mess hall and they were closing in from two different points. She knew charging wouldn't do her any good, even if she got to one, the other would likely blow her to pieces, so instead she reached for the firearm strapped to her waist. What was its name again? A Volkov model, she'd seen it before with Stein, though at the moment she supposed the details were irrelevant. Clamping her mouth shut, she held her breath, listening for, what she tried to parse out as, the closest approaching soldier. Thanks to a ringing in her ears, she couldn't rely much on the accuracy, but with time running out there wasn't much of a choice. Eli scooted to the opposite end of the table, got herself low, then swung out and took aim as best she could for the nearing enemy before squeezing the trigger.

The soldier took several shots from her handgun before dropping— but there was still three others left. Eli had dropped fourteen of them in the several hours of time she had been stuck in VR, and she was finally about to finish. These were the last of them; she was sure of it. The sound of assault rifle fire cut through the air but not before Eli heard a 'clank' against the wall behind her.
 
Her enemies were programmed with [i]energy[/i] weapons. Energy weapons didn’t make a ‘clank’ against metal.

[color=6ecff6]Grenade.[/color] 

Move. [color=6ecff6]I'm going to die.[/color] Stop. Move. [color=6ecff6]I'm going to die.[/color] 

Eli hurled herself over the table, heedless to the three remaining soldiers. She bolted for another in the hopes of finding more cover, but she had to get away from the grenade, she had to move, she had to move now or she was [color=6ecff6]going to die.[/color]

With little grace, she fell behind another long table, and a cold shock ripped through her veins. She could feel the pain in her bones, like the marrow was fire. 

[color=6ecff6]It [i]doesn't[/i] hurt it [i]doesn't[/i] hurt it [i]doesn't[/i] hurt get [i]up[/i] Elizabeth get [i]up[/i] now.[/color]

She pressed herself against the table, wincing as cold sweat dripped from her brow into the wound on her lip, where she'd bitten her mouth shut. Blood leaked down her chin, she ignored it, pushed stray hair from her eyes and breathed the shaking away. Three, only three. [color=6ecff6]You aren't losing to this [i]fucking[/i] doctor again she isn't killing you [i]again[/i]. Not her, not the damn Goldenspur, not these stupid soldiers, not anyone.[/color]

A loud ‘bang’ exploded behind her— sending bits of metal and plasma sprawling a few meters from where the grenade formerly laid, the table she had threw herself over protecting her from the intensity of the blast. Sound became distorted as a loud ringing deafened Eli. Had it not been for her eyes she wouldn’t have seen one of the three remaining soldier’s peaking from another table, this one in front of her, with rifle in hand with finger on the trigger.

The position was poor to say the least, but she reacted quickly nonetheless, whipping the handgun up to spray a few shots at the soldier before her. She didn't expect them to hit, they weren't meant to, she just needed surpression enough to skirt around his table and drive the kukri home before the other two caught on. As soon as she pulled the trigger she was moving, crouched low but fast, blade brandished and ready to swing 'round the table, she'd aim for the arms first. As she dwindled her enemies down to two— she could hear the footsteps coming around. They were going to try to catch her on opposite ends.

[color=6ecff6]You can't aim that fast.[/color] Eli was already dropping the pistol, kukri still clutched. [color=6ecff6]You can't move that fast.[/color] She wasn't going to. She let the blade go, clanking at her feet, and scooped up the dead soldier's rifle. One to the right, one to the left. [color=6ecff6]Pick one.[/color] She went left, aimed low, and opened fire, already moving to circle around the table before she could even be flanked. It would feel like the next few movements happened so quickly— the final soldier fell to the floor after a gunshot to the head, Eli dropping the assault rifle as he did so in a fit of exhaustion that was both physical, mental, and emotional.

[indent][i][b]TWOOM![/b][/i][/indent]
The synchronization halted as everything that the simulation had created vanished into nothing— the walls of New Anchorage’s mess hall turning into a blankness of metal and electronics. The door she had entered when she began slid open as the lights inside the room cut. Eli could hear the typing of the people outside.

She was dead. [color=6ecff6]You're not dead.[/color] She looked down at her hands, felt the tension there as though she was still clutching the kukri. When she spread her fingers, the relief was pain, they felt like stone. 

It was over, was that it? Eli started out, stopped herself, got her breath on leash. [color=6ecff6]You're not alone, shape up.[/color]

Eli stood up straight, pushed the pain to the furthest recess of her mind, felt herself go steady, and walked out. 

[color=6ecff6]"What happened?"[/color] she asked, relieved to hear her voice unshaken.

The voice of Lofgren responded from behind her desk, much like when Eli had opted for the simulation. [color=306754]“You succeeded. Took you awhile, but you succeeded; I’m surprised that you got through it all given all of the bullets you took. You are really good at being a sponge. Color me slightly impressed. [i]Slightly[/i].”[/color]

Eli was good at recieving compliments modestly, even when they were hidden or backhanded. Even still, though she wished she could have taken pride in Lofgren's 'praise', she didn't have the mental, or physical capacity to do much more than stand and listen.

Before Eli could reply Lofgren spoke again, [color=306754]“Maybe next time you will actually learn how to avoid bullets. I’ll add a grading system when you do. You should go to the Mess Hall and get some food in you. It is about time for your dinner call. 1800 hours, right?”[/color]

Whatever relief there was from completing the simulation, whatever conflict between happiness and disappointment raged inside her, all at once it was replaced by a terrible dread, twofold. [i]Four hours.[/i] She hadn't been in her body for four hours, and now she had to report to the Mess Hall, again. It was almost enough to push her lips into a frown, almost enough to crack her. Almost. 

[color=6ecff6]"Keep the time on record, I'll be back tomorrow,"[/color] she said, pulling the soft jacket on, wrapping the scarf round her face, and flipping the hood over her head.

[color=306754]“I would recommend bringing one of your fellow pilots.”[/color] Lofgren looked up from her desk before Eli left the room. [color=306754]“And Jackspar? The VR room isn’t just for training— it is good for leisure as well. Remember that slowing down does help, you cannot give your best if you do not rest from your duties.”[/color]

[color=6ecff6]You don't get to [i]stop[/i].[/color]

[color=6ecff6]"Noted, ma'am,"[/color] Eli said, and left for the Mess Hall.