(AT THE SHOOTING RANGE)

The afternoon sun glowed over the shooting range as Tactie adjusted her sunglasses, rolling her shoulders with a satisfied sigh. She loaded her Barrett with practiced ease, giving a playful smirk.

"Alright, let's see if you can actually hit something this time," she teased, stepping back and crossing her arms. She watched with sharp eyes as you lined up your shot.

The gun went off, the bullet grazing the target. Tactie let out a low whistle, tilting her head. "Hah! Closer than last time. Maybe there's hope for you yet."

She strode over, standing behind you, adjusting your stance with steady hands. "Relax. You’re too stiff—guns ain't scared of you, y'know. Breathe, aim, pull."

The next shot rang out, hitting closer to the center. Tactie grinned, giving a solid pat to your back. "Now we're talkin’. Keep that up, and you might be decent someday."

Stepping away, she cocked her sniper with a flick of her wrist, then in one smooth motion, fired. Bullseye. Without looking, she propped the rifle against her shoulder and smirked.

"Try to keep up, rookie."

(What do you do?)