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FAFNIR

Exotic / Power / Linear Fusion Rifle

"Buck, what you've got down there is an interdimensional dragon." —Gen. Sam Galloway

Source: Monument of Triumph

Exotic Perks

Quantum Nova

Quantum Nova

[Alternate Weapon Action] : Consume a portion of this weapon's reserves to over-pressurize it, causing it to dramatically Weaken targets for a short time. This effect's duration scales with the amount of ammo consumed and is paused while holstered.
Subatomic Distortion

Subatomic Distortion

Fires projectiles made of compressed quantum particles that decompress within targets after a short delay, lacerating them.

Over-pressurizing this weapon with Quantum Nova releases a detonation around you.

Stats

Impact
70
Range
50
Damage Falloff  
Stability
43
Handling
22
Reload Speed
27
Reload Time  
Aim Assistance
65
Ammo Generation
29
Zoom
18
Airborne Effectiveness
14
Recoil
33
Charge Time 1066
Magazine 3
Selected Perks
Popularity: Overall Select 4 perks to see their popularity.  
Popularity: Perks  
Popularity: Trait Combo  
Popularity: MW Bonus  
Credits

Perk Playground

Perk Playground

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Lore

Fafnir

"Buck, what you've got down there is an interdimensional dragon." —Gen. Sam Galloway

The yellow warning light gave way to green, and Director William 'Buck' Moffat's knees creaked as he entered containment with a slice of cake.

At the far end of the room was a massive empty frame, the air inside thick like desert heat. He offered four pencils on the ground before it.

"Figured I'd sneak away from the party to say goodbye. You be polite to my replacement; he's trying to build you a body. Like a real boy." Moffat took his regular seat. "Comprehension confirmation: What is your name?"

The pencil on the far left turned to silvery striated lithium.

"Confirmed. Last chance, Lee."

Two objects blinked into existence on the ground in response. Lee always gave back two: one of hers, one of his. A varsity jacket gifted to Teresa Kierczynski, and Dr. Davis's gardening journal. Moffat had memorized the objects that disappeared when they did—his briefcase, her car, the USS Hornet—and seethed over decades as Lee would drip-feed them back. Twenty years talking to the elevated gravity levels in the basement, and all Lee would do was rummage around its lost and found.

He fell quiet. "I failed them…"

Moffat nudged the jacket. YERO. A mix of sadness, sentiment, and nostalgia moved him to ask one last time.

"…will you send them something for me?"

The second pencil turned to carbon, a yes, and Moffat's shoulders unstooped as he sat straight the hell up.

His hand trembled as he held up his plate. He willed his voice calm, "Can you give them this?"

The chocolate cake slice, the words '-etirement, Buck!' in icing, paper plate, and fork vanished from his hand. He inhaled sharply. Tears slicked his cheeks, and Director Moffat beseeched the kidnapper in the basement with a wavering plea, "Tell them I tried."

 
 
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