Intensive Training

WEEK 1

Isabella sits on the side of a hospital bed, the synthetic leather material sticking to her skin slightly as she awaits the medic who was going to administer her with the serum that’d soon change her. The room is quiet, the silence only being broken by the sound of a faint humming coming from an air conditioning unit situated at the back end of the room.

After having gotten lost within this cyberpunk dimension, she’d found herself unable to return home to her friends in Mailor and in need of some kind of job in the meantime. She currently had no means of making a portal back home, though thanks to this metropolis having rather advanced technology, perhaps some sort of portal creation device could be cobbled together instead. At least, that was the plan.

Unfortunately, mega corporations dominated this land, holding monopolies over certain products and services, and in order to obtain specific key parts she’d have to enter some kind of loyalty programme or ‘borrow’ them from one of the corporations. The latter option didn’t appeal a great deal to the fey dragon; in spite of this corporation’s clear lack of morality, the prospect of becoming a thief didn’t sit right with her. Plus, she didn’t reckon that she’d be stealthy enough to pull such a feat off.

However, another option had presented itself. Whilst she was wandering the streets of the city, she’d seen advertisements put up by a corporation known as Myriad Solutions, who seemed to have access to the necessary technology Isabella needed and were currently offering work as private security detail. Such a job was not in Isabella’s ballpark, though it was advertised as being temporary with training provided, and would offer lots of extra perks during employment - most important of which was access to her restricted stock.

Once her contract was up, she’d surely be able to get access to the stuff she needed to craft a device capable of portal creation, and get back home! That is if the other Hawkmoths aren’t able to track Isabella down before then, though she figured that getting a job and working towards her own escape plan was better than just hanging around dodgy city streets, waiting to be saved.

From what Isabella had gathered thus far, most of their workforce and muscle seemed to be totally comprised of anthropomorphic rabbit women… copies of the exact same one, to be specific. She found this fact rather odd, given that the population of the city was overwhelmingly composed of humans. Perhaps this was done to purposefully make them stand out against a very homogenous demographic, as some form of distinctive branding? She could only guess, given her rather limited knowledge about this dimension currently, as her attention returns to her present situation when she sees the medbay door swing open.

One of the clones steps in, sporting a sly smile and shifty eyes just like all of the others Isabella had seen thus far. This one in particular was kitted out as some kind of medical officer though, wearing a white lab coat, pale green hat and top, along with some disposable gloves. She also carries a small container, along with a clipboard underarm. The clone looks over at Isabella, inspecting her as they set the container down on a counter before examining her clipboard.

“Alright then… Isabelle, is it?”

“Oh, it’s Isabella actually!”

“Uh-huh. Well that doesn't really matter I suppose. Neither will be your name soon.”

She mutters that last part quietly under her breath, flicking through the pages attached to her clipboard. They set it down on the counter beside the plain container she’d brought with her, before reaching over and carefully unfastening the buckle keeping it shut. She slowly opens it, allowing a white, cold vapour to escape out from within its confines before reaching inside and retriving a large medical syringe. A viscous blue liquid was contained within it; the clone gives the syringe a flick, before returning their gaze to their new recruit once more.

“Stand up, and please keep still.”

“What’s this for, miss?”

“Oh… it’s just standard procedure, don’t you worry…”

The vagueness of their response causes a small amount of worry to stir within Isabella, as she gets to her feet. The rabbit lady walks over to her side, and plunges the needle into her upper arm, prompting Isabella to wince a little - needles have always been a particularly unpleasant sight for her. Thankfully the unpleasant experience only lasts a short while, as the needle retreats out of her body, and is tossed away into a small waste bin with ‘BIOHAZARD’ written in block capitals at its centre.

“There we go. Now then, recruit, your training starts at 0600 next morning. I’ll show you to your quarteres - I suggest that you get a good night’s sleep, you’ll need it for the morning. Proper company uniform shall also be provided for you - you better make sure to keep that in good condition too, ‘kay? You’re representing the company now.”

“Okay then… t-thanks for this opportunity, by the way! I’m in a bit of a tight spot right now, and I really appreciate Myriad offering me the position. Though they never mentioned how long the contract lasted for. Would you know anything about that… miss?”

Isabella asks as the pair walk through numerous long grey corridors at a brisk pace - other clones give her passing glances, until they arrive at her room. An electronically powered door slides open, revealing a room that resembles a prison cell more than a bedroom.

“Don’t you worry about that for now. You could say that we’re like family here - I’m sure that you’ll find yourself feeling right at home with us. At least, you will in time. And… you can call us Mirabelle.”

They say, as Isabella steps inside of the plain room, with the door shutting behind her with a thud. They reach up to her arm, rubbing the injection point which now felt saw before taking a seat on her new bed - the mattress felt only marginally more comfortable than sleeping on concrete. Isabella worries as to if she’d made a foolish decision by coming here, though all of this would just be temporary. And besides, maybe she could learn something from this experience?

WEEK 2

Rain lashes down from the heavens above, soaking the field Isabella currently found herself running laps around whilst under intense scrutiny from her trainer. The grass beneath her feet was waterlogged, as small splashes are generated with each hard footstep she takes. The sky is smoggy and grey, with the sun's rays only barely being able to penetrate through the polluted atmosphere. This contrasted sharply with the clean air she was used to back at home.

Running around and around like this… Isabella was rather fit, though her stamina fell considerably short of what the other Mirabelles were able to manage. None of them seemed to need any kind of rest or break… as she ran around the field and repeatedly sailed through the small obstacle course which had been set up midway through the looping circuit. Barbed wire had been set up around the circuit too, this harsh environment almost resembling a battlefield.

“GET IT MOVING RECRUIT!”

The trainer barks at Isabelle, singling her out as her run has deteriorated into a hobbling jog, as she gasps desperately for oxygen. Her sides ache, as she takes a minute to come to a complete stop in order to recuperate a little. With her hands pressed against her legs, she leaned over and drew in deep breaths, gulping down air. As her legs wobble, she can’t help but observe that she looks… pale? Much less saturated than usual for sure, as greyish blotches could be seen all over her skin. She didn’t have much time to examine this before the trainer’s whistle was blown, making her jolt in surprise.

“I SAID GET MOVING! YOU’RE GONNA GET ASSIGNED TO CLEANING THE LATRINES FOR A FULL WEEK IF YOU CAN’T GET GOING, #12409!”

She yells, pushing the recruit to slowly start moving again, now at a brisk walking pace. Isabella felt… strange. She was exhausted, but something inside of her was pushing her to keep going… to keep training… to keep improving. Her new corporate code felt very personal too, feeling more like a nickname, rather than just a number to assign them a place within their ranks. Though for now, her attention returns to the task at hand, as she focuses on trying to catch up with the pack of rabbits keeping a steady pace ahead.

WEEK 3

Since starting her training regiment, the newly named Mirabelle #12409 had found herself being particularly drawn to spending her allocated free time in the company gymnasium. She sits on an adjustable bench - beads of sweat running down her face as she takes a moment to catch her breath in between doing reps. A steel dumbbell lays on the ground beside her feet… it seemed as if each day, she could lift even more. She looks around, seeing many of her sisters working out and pushing their bodies to the limit just as she was… the sight makes her smile, as a warm sense of belonging fills up within her.

Over the past couple of weeks, she’d done nothing else but train from dawn to dusk. And whilst it had been very draining at the start, she’d found that her fitness had improved dramatically over a very short period of time… with each day, she could measurably run rather and jump higher. Such a rapid rate of improvement would be impossible to achieve naturally, though this didn’t really bother her - in fact, it was a good thing to the recruit. She had felt rather guilty over the last couple of days, due to the fact that she struggled to keep up with the rest during training. She hated the idea of being a burden to those who had taken her in off of the street, and she consequently wanted to show her use to her superiors.

Her body has undergone a lot of change over the last week. Her breasts had grown out quite considerably, as a company bra was now needed to provide support, whilst her waist had also slenderised and become lean. The greyness she had noticed before had developed into short, dense fur, which was slowly consuming more and more of her body with each passing day. Her ears had developed a sensitivity that wasn’t there before - Mirabelle could now hear things that would have been mostly inaudible before, with her snout having been pushed back into her face, no longer protruding quite as much as it once had.

Nothing about her changes scared her though, as if it was something that should concern her, her fellow Mirabelles and the company would have told her by now - they knew what was best for her, and there was no reason to question her judgement. She stood up off of the bench, wiping her face with some paper tissues as she checked the time. She had weapons training at 1500 and didn’t want to be late…

WEEK 4

*SMACK*

The sound of Mirabelle’s knuckles smacking against the thick fabric of the punching bag before her echo throughout the sparsely decorated room. Walls of plain concrete surround her, with the corporate logo of Myraid Solutions stencilled over the wall closest to Mira above her, as to serve as an obvious reminder of who she now worked for - her owner, her everything. And this fact was comforting to the rabbit, rather than oppressive.

Both physically and mentally, she was now far removed from the person that she was when she’d begun this training regiment. Their individuality had been largely expunged from her mind and replaced with an unyielding sense of loyalty and admiration towards her employer. Her former memories and skills still remained, though that all felt… irrelevant. None of that was beneficial to the company at this present time and is consequently unimportant to her.

#12409 had already informed her superiors that an independent group of dimension hoppers might come to retrieve her at some point, and that she’d better be on guard to repel such an abduction attempt. She was still needed at the company after all, and there was no way that she could abandon her post - the thought was inconceivable to her.

At this point, her ears had almost grown out to match the length of her sister’s ears, with two large curved buck teeth jutting out from her mouth. Short, dense fur coats her body, with her old tail having shrunken down to nothing more than a stubby rabbit tail. Her wings were tiny in comparison to her former length, and had been incapable of flying for quite some time now. Though Mirabelle knew that they weren’t really needed now - if she needed to get somewhere by air, then there were plenty of corporate helicopters at her disposal for usage out in the field.

*SMACK*

She strikes the bag once more, her knuckles now feeling hardened and slightly calloused, with newfound close combat knowledge having filled up her mind. She had developed proficiency with handling weaponry, scouting, law enforcement… all of the necessary skills that were expected of a proper Myriad guard. She could even keep up with the rest of the other trainees on the outdoor circuit at this point! Being able to make such quick progress served well to keep driving #12409, as for now, she focuses on perfecting the perfect punching technique.

WEEK 5

A long line of clones are queued up together, stretching down a thin, bleak hallway whilst standing to attention, ready for inspection. Amongst them is #12409, though were it not for their identification code upon her uniform, no one would know it was her specially. Any sort of identifying features had been stripped away, and replaced with an unyielding sense of duty and discipline. She looks right ahead, until the sight of a Mirabelle inspector comes in front of her gaze. #12409 remains in the saluting position, allowing their blue eyes to glance over at the inspector for a brief moment before she opens her mouth.

”My my, didn’t you shape-up well? I must say, I was expecting that we’d have to spend a good while getting you into shape for active duty, though you’ve really defied my expectations.”

The Mira states, a smirk spreads across her face as she checks out the former fey dragon from head to toe, now nothing more than another loyal employee of Myriad. They raise a hand to #12409’s face, cupping her chin.

“Hmm… good posture, proper form, well-maintained uniform… all seems to be in order here. Keep it up, and you’ll soon find yourself patrolling the streets with your sisters. Keeping our customers safe and secure is our utmost priority here, as I’m sure you already know.”

She adds, nodding to the Mirabelle before her before marching slowly away towards the next recruit in line, her heavy footsteps echoing. #12409 relaxes a little, breaking the saluting pose as her arm falls back down to her side. Whilst she was no longer able to harness the dimensional hopping powers she used to wield with ease, her knowledge on the subject would still prove to be invaluable to Myriad Solutions going forward into the future.

She feels a growing sense of accomplishment and pride filling up within her… all of those training exercises and re-education classes were worth it in the end. This all just felt so right… this was her place, and she couldn’t imagine herself being anywhere else.