A Change In Style
After getting some rest, I spent the next couple of hours practicing the ability through various patients. I learned some valuable knowledge while doing so. For example, the ability worked better on those who were already injured, as the brain was more susceptible to receiving signals from the neurons. For those who weren't injured, I attempted to send a signal for a fake injury before trying to send a command, but their brain received mixed signals, therefore didn't listen due to confusion.
While I was honing that skill down, I finally took steps to change my fighting style. I'm pretty sure it was around that time in the war where there were going to be more OR-14 bots and even the Walkers appearing more often, and they were more resistant to my EMP grenades. Therefore, it was time to leave my comfort zone and attempt something that I was fearing to do, deflect bullets.
Mamoru taught me everything I needed to do so; I just lacked the courage to try it. I mean, while it looks extremely cool, the risks were too high in my mind to just be using it. Now that my healing was vamped up along with my senses, my confidence shot up.
If I was wielding a katana, a decision as to what my secondary weapon would be, as I couldn't just run into battles with just that alone. Giving my assault rifle to S3bastian to use as it along with my shield, I immediately eliminated shurikens as a contender. While I most likely would use them, it would require me to carry quite the number of them unless I wanted to scavenge them from the dead Bastion's corpses.
I was thinking about going to a submachine gun, but it was only effective at mid to close range engagements. Which left me thinking about just going back to the pistol. The problem with pistols, is that there weren't that many that would be effective against the armor of the Bastions, much less the OR-14. Oh, wait. I smiled as I remembered a pistol that most would hate, but would suit my needs.
An order was made to Abigaile for a katana and a Desert Eagle, which would arrive in a couple of hours to my location. Once, a gun that the world that many would call a flop, one gun manufacturing company produced a Desert Eagle that all but removed the impurities that plagued the gun before. With it revamped and capable of having armor piercing and even explosive rounds now, it was banned through many countries.
It was good, that I was going through this process of change, as word among the soldiers that they were going to take advantage of the recent victory and attack London. Since my involvement, the British army was practically begging for Overwatch operatives among their ranks, namely me. While I didn't mind fighting alongside them, I didn't agree with their plan to attack London.
Not only was there an omnium in London, but no doubt, all omnics would have retreated there to defend it, while replenishing their numbers. The British government would do well to not underestimate the number of omnics an omnium could produce per day.
According to some higher commanding officers, the attack would commence in around three days. Which gave me some time to train what I needed to. Plus, I felt it was time to try commanding a person who wasn't injured.
Heading to the doctor's lounge of the hospital, I find a younger male doctor surrounded by empty cups of coffee. Sitting next to him, he snaps awake, and notices my presence.
"Oh, Dr. Rose. Pleased to make your acquaintance." He says, stifling down a yawn.
Dr. Rose. The title sounded real good, even though I severely lacked the credentials to back it. But I made no attempt to correct him. Looking at his name tag quickly to figure out his name, I place a hand on his shoulder as I talk to him.
"Pleased to meet you too, Dr. Richardson. Heard about all you've done and want you to keep up the good work. Also, don't forget to get the necessary rest, we can't afford to make mistakes." I tell him while deciding to make the action to be him standing up.
Hearing my words, he smiles as he goes to regal some of his experiences the past couple of days with patients. Only half listening and nodding my head, I instead focus on his bioelectricity. It's sluggish as he is exhausted, so my own signal takes a second to reach his brain.
Upon reaching it, he immediately stands up mid-sentence and he looks confused. Smiling at my success, I too stand up, making it seem like the end of the conversation and exit. To be sure, I try it on three more doctors of various fatigue levels.
My results are that the more tired a person is, the less their brain will process signals, and they are more likely to perform the command. Of course, after the time it takes for it to reach the brain. I haven't yet reached that point where I could command someone who was healthy and in a good mind set, but with practice, I'm sure at some point, I could.
A pinging on my visor told me that my package was here at a location where it wouldn't be easily discovered. I head out with S3bastian to get some training in before the upcoming battle.