Oxygen SR3
Legendary
Fight on. You're still breathing.
Item stats
  • 16
    Magazine
Primary
Impact
62
Range
50
Stability
50
Handling
47
Reload Speed
50
Rounds Per Minute
180
Hidden
Aim assistance
67
Recoil Direction
60
Zoom
20
Inventory Size
54
Weapon Perks
Precision Frame

This weapon's recoil pattern is more predictably vertical.

Polygonal Rifling

Barrel optimized for recoil reduction.
• Increases stability

Accurized Rounds

This weapon can fire longer distances.
• Increases range

Dragonfly

Precision kills create an elemental damage explosion.

Meganeura

Dragonfly deals more damage based on the number of precision hits dealt beforehand.

Tracker Disabled

No tracker is displayed on this weapon.

Kill Tracker

This weapon tracks the number of enemies you defeated with it.

Crucible Tracker

This weapon tracks the number of Crucible opponents you defeated with it.

Weapon Mods
Default Shader

Restores your gear to its default colors.

Empty Mod Socket

No mod currently selected.

Masterwork

Maximized stats. Generates Orbs on multikills. Fitted with a kill tracker.

Default Ornament

Restores your weapon to its default appearance.

Perfluorocarbon

Equip this weapon ornament to change the appearance of Oxygen SR3. Once you get an ornament, it's unlocked for all characters on your account.

Lore
Scarves of mist gusted through the Tower bazaar. It was quiet: The civilians had taken shelter hours ago when the rain was coming down in earnest, and most Guardians still awake had congregated in the Courtyard. Zavala and Ikora sat together on a wooden trellis, legs dangling, soaked to the bone, looking out at the City lights below. "Aunor leaked about a dozen documents today," Ikora said. Despite himself, Zavala smiled. "Did she?" "I managed to redact a few, but. She embedded the rest in your manifests." "She reminds me a lot of you." Ikora nodded, then leaned back to look up at the rain as it fell. "Yes. I agree." Rain beaded on the tip of Zavala's nose. He raised his hand to brush it away, keeping his gaze fixed steadily on the City. "What would you have me do?" "Nothing. She's mine to manage, and… She's not a child. None of them are, Zavala. We owe them all more than we're giving." "Yes…" he agreed, then added gently, "But they owe us more than they're giving, too." Ikora chuckled dryly. "Yes. Of course. The benefit of the doubt. And compassion. But." She squinted against the rain. "Our feelings don't matter right now. We need to be people they want to follow, not people they mistrust and want to fight." "Respect is mutual," Zavala said, "but I agree." He took a deep breath, looking up at the belly of the Traveler: present but inert. Completely, maddeningly, heartrendingly inert. "We will be better. This will pass." Ikora closed her eyes. They were quiet a while. "I wish Cayde were here," she whispered. Zavala set his hand on Ikora's knee and swallowed a knot in his throat. "Me, too."