Chapter 1: Ambush!

Soldier 76 jumped from his sleep when he felt movement in his room. As he went to grab the pulse rifle at his side or the knife under his pillow, 76 felt rough hands holding him down from both sides.

"At ease, Soldier," a man in a vaguely familiar husky, English voice commanded.

That was exactly what he did, not out of fear or obedience to his assailants but in order to assess the combat situation before murdering them.

There were three men in the room, two were holding him down while the one talking was sitting on the armchair with one leg thrown over the armrest. They all wore urban camouflaged uniforms with metal components for superior protection and helmets that covered their entire faces. No insignias or flag patches were evident on their uniform.

Their commander had painted a ridiculous looking white skull on his helmet's visor. His right hand had been removed from the shoulder and replaced with a mechanical hand; if the mutilation was voluntary or accidental, 76 could not tell. Unlike his two comrades that used custom assault rifles, he had a shotgun on his lap, a submachinegun strapped across his chest, and some kind of anti-material rifle that looked capable of breaking the arm of a man firing it.

"Who are you?"

"Members of the European Army black ops division," the man replied.

Good, he thought. The last thing he needed was to be captured by the Talon group that had been hunting him for years.

"And you?"

He chuckled. "Tell me your name—your real name—and I will tell you mine."

Soldier 76 growled at his taunt. "Soldier 76."

"I am Ghost then."

Soldier 76 returned to assessing his surrounding, searching for some possible way to fight off his assailants. Even if he could fight off the two soldiers holding him, he doubted that Ghost would not kill him promptly.

"I am not here to kill you or bring you to justice," Ghost continued, "we have been informed that Overwatch has been issued a recall. I expect you to issue Jack Morrison's recall and reveal to me the location of their headquarters."

Watchpoint Gibraltar, Soldier 76 thought. It was an Overwatch base that had been abandoned for years but it was the ideal location. It was also quite an inconspicuous location considering the facility held a massive underground complex that the United Nations had no clue about.

Part of him wondered whom had been stupid enough to issue the recall. Reinhardt and Angela were technically the highest ranking officers alive but it could not be them; Reinhardt was too honourable and proud to create a rogue organisation while his Angel was not stupid enough to issue a recall. Winston! That was it. That ridiculous monkey was the only one that had mistaken their vainglorious organisation for something it was not.

"You are wasting your time, kiddo."

Ghost chuckled again. He reached for his gun and turned off the safety. "Torture it is then."

Soldier 76 started searching for an ingenious plan that could save him from his predicament but his freedom was given to him freely. Sniper rifle fire cracked in the distance, followed by the two soldiers holding him dropping dead.

A heartbeat later, the door was breached open and shadowy figures tried to enter inside. Ghost immediately confronted them and started shouting them with his semi-automatic shotgun.

76 jumped off the bed and away from the window, he reached from his pulse rifle.

"Don't!" Ghost snapped and aimed his SMG towards him while aiming his shotgun down the hallway.

"They are Talon, you fool!"

Immediately, Ghost holstered his SMG and grabbed his shotgun with both hands. "You will assist me, sir. But one or both of us will dead by the end of the night."

Soldier 76 grabbed his pistol and rushed past Ghost. The enemy started shooting him but—unlike their high tech armour—they had the skills of a redshirt, no aim and no knowledge of combat tactics.

He was walking down the hallway, his weapon firing only when one of them tried to look towards him. When he saw a tin can on the floor, he kicked it towards the group of talon hiding the corner of the walls. "Grenade!" he yelled.

Night as it was, the idiots took the bait and dived away from the would-be grenade. Soldier 76 grunted and sprinted toward them, shooting them promptly before they could recover.

"Nicely done," Ghost said from behind.

As Soldier 76 looked towards the European soldier. As the man had his weapon lowered, it would have been so easy to incapacitate or shoot him but… Soldier 76 did not murder innocents.

"We can access the sewers from the basement, it will be easier to escape their sniper from there," said Soldier 76.

"Are you certain? The building's blueprints—"

Perhaps it was a soldier's instinct alone that helped him react at the odd glint in the distance. He grabbed Ghost and hoisted both of them down the stairs. The crack of sniper fire echoed a heartbeat later. "Move! Now!"

To say that Markus Wilhelm was pissed would have been the understatement of the century, not only had his two comrades died by that Widowmaker bitch, the dastard Jack Morrison had also saved his life.

And now here he was, having difficulty catching up with Morrison as they run down the winding staircase of the abandoned building. Part of him was tempted to abandon the overweight Black Widow but he could not, he loved that sniper rifle.

Markus reached on his belt and grabbed a proximity bomb, he placed it under the railings of the staircase and kept running. Although he doubted the mysterious Widowmaker would trigger it, he was certain that one of the talon operatives would fall to his trap.

Submachinegun fire started pelleting them from above. Morrison shot a single helix rocket towards the upper floor while Markus dropped a smoke grenade on the ground and blind fired with his silenced M7S SMG. While nobody seemed to die from the hits, it had certainly scared the soldiers chasing after them from above. Screams were heard from above as the proximity bomb exploded, sending two soldiers down the empty space in the middle.

As they reached the bottom floor, Morrison slammed the locked door with his shoulder.

When he entered the basement, Markus closed the door and latched an axe under the door. It was nothing fancy but it would buy them a few second. As he looked around the room, he frowned. "I told you there is absolutely nothing—"

Morrison tapped the floor twice at the middle of the room.

"Ah," Markus replied. He grabbed the EA-RDX and knelt at the spot the old soldier had pointed to. As he was assembling the explosive, he continued, "You are quite fast… for an old man."

Morrison did not respond. Instead, he started forming some kind of barrier in front of the sole door. "Your time would be better spent hunting down terrorists than Overwatch agents."

That was something that Markus could not disagree with. But the road to hell was paved was paved with good intentions. Between Dr Angela "Mercy" Ziegler's Frankenstein-like experiments and Gabriel Reyes' brutal techniques, there was little reason to believe that these people had the necessary qualities to self-control or be autonomous.

Or perhaps he was wrong… "Sir" Reinhardt Wilhelm, Markus' adoptive father and the most honourable man in earth, had been a member of Overwatch for so many years. Markus had tried to contact Reinhardt after rumours of the recall had arisen to beg him not to rejoin but the champion's response was absolute silence. Markus did not look forward to confronting him.

"Order are orders, sir."

Morrison nodded. That was the language both of them knew well. Even before Overwatch headquarters were blown up by the traitor Reyes, Morrison had taken his duty to an extreme and had abandoned any and all that could stall him in fulfilling the expectations of the world. In a way, Markus found it admirable but it was so wrong and inhuman.

"I will feast on your soul!"

Markus cried out in pain when the full brunt of shogun fire hit his chest. It was a powerful blow but the plating of his armour protected him from the majority of the hit. By the time he had brushed aside the pain and stood up, Morrison was already upon the assailant that shot him.

The assailant was dressed in a black trench coat with a cowl and a skeletal mask. A shiver run through him. This was the legendary Reaper, one of the highest ranking members of Talon. At the same time, Talon forces were trying to breach the door.

Markus grabbed his shotgun and fired towards Reaper. The stories were true… this man or creatures or whatever the fuck he was had decomposed into a gaseous purple form for a mere instant, completely avoiding the shotgun fire.

"Ignore Reaper," Morrison shouted. "Get the door."

Although he hated being ordered around by a vigilante, he could not doubt about the sensibility of the plan. Markus took the RDX from the ground and tossed it as the door. He took cover behind the barricade Morrison had constructed.

He drew the Black Widow from his back, aimed at the door, activated the thermal sights, and fired at the door. The deafening sound of the anti-material rifle echoed in the dark basement. He reached for his forearm-attached computer and prepared to press the detonation button on the touch screen.

"Morrison!" Markus yelled. "Duck!"

A moment later, the deafening sound of the explosion ringed in his ear and wave of heat washed over his body. As he disengaged the thermal sight and peered over the obstacle, the target assessment system of his visor highlighted a number of targets through the smoke. Two of them had been split in half by the devastating force of the Black Widow's explosive round. Three had been incapacitated or killed by the explosion. Four were—

Markus ducked aside as he noted a slight shift in the darkness before him. A sniper round rung past his ear. He pulled his SMG, extended the stock, and jumped over the barricade before the Widowmaker could recover from the recoil or her weapon could recharge to full power. The threat assessment system would, for some reason, not highlight the hostile woman. Perhaps her uniform allowed her to mask her thermal or electronic signature.

Although he was still training his left hand, he switched his weapon to the left shoulder to provide himself with an extra semblance of protection as he had the right, mechanical hand forward.

Four quick burst of fire were sufficient to kill the soldiers recovering from the explosions. Then, he charged at the woman standing further back on the stair, aiming her rifle towards him.

As he was shooting her, the Widowmaker took another shot with her rifle that hit him on his right shoulder.

Markus barely felt the hit as he kept firing at the French bitch.

The Widowmaker cried out in pain when his bullets hit their mark. Suddenly, a grappling hook extended from her arm and latched towards the upper floor. As she was pulled upwards, she started firing automatically and left behind some kind of gas grenade.

The biohazard warning lit up on his visor and the air-purification system of his respirator immediately activated. Ignoring the gunfire, Markus advanced and shot towards the woman but she was already gone.

"Fucking hell," Markus snapped as he walked towards the basement again, "everyone has a gimmick these days."

Apart from the national or international armies that is, he continued in his own thoughts.

"Die, die, die!" Reaper kept shouted towards his rival as he unleashed torrents of shotgun fire.

Morrison was heavily wounded, covered behind a clatter of objects. Markus took aim towards the hideous monster and started firing repeatedly, pausing only to reload his gun.

Like before, Reaper stopped firing and dissolved into purple smoke. During this time, the senior officer of Talon could no longer fire his guns or do anything that required physical contact. This gave Markus the opening he needed to reach for his semi-automatic shotgun, reload the magazine and take aim.

Morrison had the same idea, he stood up casually and took aim. A normal soldier would have surely succumbed to the wounds of the former leader of Overwatch; Morrison only required a couple of moments to recover apparently.

It was equally impressive and terrifying, Markus himself had gone through extensive biocybernetic augmentation but he had not been violated to such an extent. He'd rather die than become a freak of nature.

When Reaper materialised, both humans started firing before the humanoid creature could draw his shotguns and keep firing. Reaper stumbled backwards and fell on the ground, screaming in pain. By the time a normal person was dead, there was nothing left behind other than his bone mask.

Now that the threat was no longer present, Markus felt the exhaustion and pain all over his body. He dropped on one knee, panting. "I don't understand," he said, "I can understand robots… I can understand space monkeys… but a ghost…"

Casually, Morrison walked next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You have much to learn," Morrison said.

"They say he was human once. Is it true?"

Morrison sighed. "I do not know. It could be possible I suppose; I have seen a lot of things in Overwatch's laboratories."

"And then you people wonder why you were disbanded."

Morrison grabbed him from the throat and hoisted him to his feet. "I AM NOT OVER—"

It happened in a mere instant but Markus found himself on the ground, clenching the wound that had pierced his chest. Multiple warning flared on his visor. His vision was blurry while the faint sound of gunfire was evident in the far distance. He tried to inhale but he only ended up chocking blood in his helmet. Markus reached for his helmet and pulled it off immediately. He reached for one of the pouches of his trousers but found it impossible to tear off the Velcro. Not like this, he told himself, not like this…

"Get off my lawn!" Soldier 76 snapped at the Widowmaker.

When the Talon gunship had disappeared in the distance, he found the nearest wall and punched it hard. She had been wounded, barely able to walk when he found her but one look on her pretty face had made him hesitate for a mere moment and that was all the wench needed.

Her name was Amélie Lacroix, the wife of one of Overwatch's operatives. Gérard Lacroix had been Jack Morrison's top operatives that had led the campaign against Talon. Talon had tried hundreds of times to murder Gérard but they always failed… until they kidnapped his wife. They had rescued Amelie but, after two weeks, they found Gerard lying on his bed with his body ripped into a dozen pieces. It was a tragic story that he had failed to put an end to.

Ghost!

Soldier 76 pushed the useless thoughts aside and rushed down to the basement of the building to render any assistance to the fellow soldier. Ghost may have come to interrogate or murder him but he had fought well and they had both saved each others lives.

The poor man was lying on the ground, clenching the bloodied wound on his chest. Damnit! There was no way anyone could survive such a wound. Ghost was struggling to open the Velcro pouch on his left trouser.

Soldier 76 tried to assist him but Ghost struggled, trying to push him away.

"Stop moving!" he ordered and opened the pouch himself. Soldier 76 pulled some kind of pendant from the pouch and was ready to hand it over to Ghost's extended hand when he noticed the golden 76 on the pendant. He froze.

Soldier 76 grabbed the young man from the chest and forced him to look at him. "Where did you get this?"

Ghost chocked on his blood. "My…my m-mother."

The former commander of Overwatch blinked. Impossible. Marcus? Without saying a single word, Soldier 76 reached into the jacket and pulled a blue syringe; it was one that significantly lowered the heart rate in order to reduce bleeding.

He pushed it into the armour's small opening on Marcus' left arm that was right on top of his vein and pushed the plunger. Marcus dropped unconscious a moment later. Then, Soldier 76 raised his own sleeve and activated his wearable computer.

"Overwatch, Strike Commander Jack Morrison," the boot up screen read.

Swiftly, he pressed the emergency evac button, added the first entry in his empty log, ripped the computer off his forearm and tossed it next to Marcus' unconscious body. As he walked away, he glanced towards his boy. "I'm sorry... for everything."

A/N: The only actual "difference" I have made to the known universe is that Mercy is 32 years old at the story instead of 37. I needed to do this in order to have Mercy and the OC to be of similar age without having to make Soldier 76 outrageously old. The romance will be a bit on the slow side.

I am currently searching for Beta reader, if anyone things they might enjoy this story or are interested in assisting me, it would be greatly appreciated.