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Blackbox training modules
Dec. 18th, 2014 09:10 pmIsha Devan | NHD-C12-DVN-673 | D72 - 73
TARGET: ARROGANCE
SESSION 1 : DAY 72
[Isha is confident. Make it your bitch. That's what Noh-Varr said, correct? She would. She'd triumph. Not many challenges have been left alone to die out on their own in her life.
Isha smirks. She would win.
Yet, as soon as she takes one step into the Black Box, only one word appears before her in red letters, like a hologram:]
FAILURE.
[She blinks, clearly taken aback.]
Failure? I've done nothing! How can I fail without having done anything?
[The words do not waver. Isha continues to stand haughty, chin up. It's as if she's staring off the words, trying to bend it to her will.
After some moments, she finally yells in frustration. She even throws a knife at the screens that hold her fate.]
Fuck you.
[And she storms off, only to reset.]
SESSION 2 : DAY 72
[Maybe ten minutes later, she returns to the Black Box, ready and mind cleared.
Before her is a wide array of monitors and holographic keyboards. Computers, she recognizes. Isha smirks as she settles into the seat sitting before the central computer. This she could handle, definitely.
She glances at a small hologram that shines only a play icon. She presses the image. A contract, is it? Find the bug or die by the bug.
Easy enough. It's almost a joke.
Swift fingers type on the keyboard. Lines of code populate the screens.]
There you are, you little wanker.
[But when she resumes typing to correct the error... it multiplies. It buries itself in another screen, among new code. She can only furrow her brows and tilt her head. Still, she continues. Again she finds the bugs, now five. Again it multiplies.
And a blade stabs her thigh. She screams in pain, pinned. She is better than this. If she could disable the seat...
She rapidly types, searching for the function. There, a simple keystroke... Another blade stabs her opposite thigh, and the lowest part of her spine. The blades grow claws and stab themselves, securing her tightly in the seat. She couldn't lose to a machine. She is better than a machine.
Her typing becomes frantic, rapid. Once more, the bugs manifest themselves. Once more, she removes them. Once more, a blade goes through her body. Over and over, until finally, she's too weak to think, unable to move because of the blades binding her to the chair.
Every screen shuts down. Only one word appears on each screen:]
FAILURE.
SESSION 3 : DAY 73
[She would've completed her sessions, had she not left it sore and sure that she'd bled out.
Isha steels herself once more. A simulation wouldn't deter her. She had to succeed. Warriorhead said she would manage, and she planned to do better than that.
The gray, damp streets of London overcome her senses. The scene is... familiar.
Too familiar. A memory she'd rather not relive.
The thief is nothing more than a teenager again, walking home. Her skills earned her a reputation at such a young age. Proud then, proud now.
She's thrown against a wall, a knife is held to her throat. The crazed eyes bore into her soul. His words are lost in her own thoughts.]
I am better than you now!
[She throws him off, unsheathing her own knife. Where once she was scared, now she is strong, an incredibly skilled knife-user and a legendary hacker. Not many could surpass her.
She slashes at him quickly, yet he dodges easily. Her eyes harden. No, she wouldn't hold back. Over and over she fights, and still he does not even bleed. How is it possible? No man could be so fast. She's trained with many, she's better than this crazed prick.
Yet the bullet that goes through her stomach would say otherwise. And, somehow, in the confusion, she finds that sheets of blood drain from her throat as she collapses to her knees.]
Failure! Failure! Failure!
[The last words of an insane man, before he takes his own life and the system shuts down.]
TARGET: ARROGANCE
SESSION 1 : DAY 72
[Isha is confident. Make it your bitch. That's what Noh-Varr said, correct? She would. She'd triumph. Not many challenges have been left alone to die out on their own in her life.
Isha smirks. She would win.
Yet, as soon as she takes one step into the Black Box, only one word appears before her in red letters, like a hologram:]
FAILURE.
[She blinks, clearly taken aback.]
Failure? I've done nothing! How can I fail without having done anything?
[The words do not waver. Isha continues to stand haughty, chin up. It's as if she's staring off the words, trying to bend it to her will.
After some moments, she finally yells in frustration. She even throws a knife at the screens that hold her fate.]
Fuck you.
[And she storms off, only to reset.]
SESSION 2 : DAY 72
[Maybe ten minutes later, she returns to the Black Box, ready and mind cleared.
Before her is a wide array of monitors and holographic keyboards. Computers, she recognizes. Isha smirks as she settles into the seat sitting before the central computer. This she could handle, definitely.
She glances at a small hologram that shines only a play icon. She presses the image. A contract, is it? Find the bug or die by the bug.
Easy enough. It's almost a joke.
Swift fingers type on the keyboard. Lines of code populate the screens.]
There you are, you little wanker.
[But when she resumes typing to correct the error... it multiplies. It buries itself in another screen, among new code. She can only furrow her brows and tilt her head. Still, she continues. Again she finds the bugs, now five. Again it multiplies.
And a blade stabs her thigh. She screams in pain, pinned. She is better than this. If she could disable the seat...
She rapidly types, searching for the function. There, a simple keystroke... Another blade stabs her opposite thigh, and the lowest part of her spine. The blades grow claws and stab themselves, securing her tightly in the seat. She couldn't lose to a machine. She is better than a machine.
Her typing becomes frantic, rapid. Once more, the bugs manifest themselves. Once more, she removes them. Once more, a blade goes through her body. Over and over, until finally, she's too weak to think, unable to move because of the blades binding her to the chair.
Every screen shuts down. Only one word appears on each screen:]
FAILURE.
SESSION 3 : DAY 73
[She would've completed her sessions, had she not left it sore and sure that she'd bled out.
Isha steels herself once more. A simulation wouldn't deter her. She had to succeed. Warriorhead said she would manage, and she planned to do better than that.
The gray, damp streets of London overcome her senses. The scene is... familiar.
Too familiar. A memory she'd rather not relive.
The thief is nothing more than a teenager again, walking home. Her skills earned her a reputation at such a young age. Proud then, proud now.
She's thrown against a wall, a knife is held to her throat. The crazed eyes bore into her soul. His words are lost in her own thoughts.]
I am better than you now!
[She throws him off, unsheathing her own knife. Where once she was scared, now she is strong, an incredibly skilled knife-user and a legendary hacker. Not many could surpass her.
She slashes at him quickly, yet he dodges easily. Her eyes harden. No, she wouldn't hold back. Over and over she fights, and still he does not even bleed. How is it possible? No man could be so fast. She's trained with many, she's better than this crazed prick.
Yet the bullet that goes through her stomach would say otherwise. And, somehow, in the confusion, she finds that sheets of blood drain from her throat as she collapses to her knees.]
Failure! Failure! Failure!
[The last words of an insane man, before he takes his own life and the system shuts down.]
