Hey there, this is just a little quick one-shot I came up with while playing Overwatch the other day. I was debating with a friend what we thought the 76 alluded to in Jack Morrison's alias. I wagered it had to do with the Soldier Enhancement Program that both he and Gabriel Reyes (Reaper) went through just before the outbreak of the Omnic Crisis. But in the end, this is just a hunch and is in no way confirmed or canon or whatever you want to call it.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. I like Overwatch quite a bit so expect some more Overwatch one-shots or maybe a full-length story once I get my act together and finish other in progress stories...
This was never meant to happen.
He was just a rural farm boy from Indiana looking for some sort of adventure and discipline that would eventually lead to his enlistment in United States Military upon turning eighteen. He'd release after a few years of experience. Just a short stint, that was the plan, nothing more.
But things change. After all, desperate times did call for desperate measures.
The brass noticed his courage and his unwavering work ethic. And that made him rise through the ranks and keep on climbing in skill and experience. Eventually, it led to him getting a spot in the coveted "United States Army Soldier Enhancement Program." The project was just that; the enhancement of soldiers. In theory, it would grant already incredible soldiers abilities that seemed almost alien to ordinary men. Enhanced speed, strength, and agility. It would make the warrior super human.
And it would seem that was the fate of one Jack Morrison.
His heart was beating out of his chest. One by one, the candidates were led out of their temporary barracks building into the test chamber. Each candidate looked as nervous as Morrison. The uncertainty was plastered on their faces and worsened as their numbers dwindled. What made it worse was that no candidate returned to the Barracks after they were escorted out by the Military scientists. Realistically, there were likely further tests going on after the actual procedures, but regardless, it did not help.
In time, only a dozen of the soldier candidates remained. The silence was unbearable. Each soldier had their hands clasped together and stared at the steel floor, looking for answers to their questions within the creases in the steel base.
"Hey." A single, low tone voice spoke.
Morrison looked up upon realizing the voice was indeed engaging him. Sitting next to him was another candidate who looked equally confused, but nowhere near as scared. Jack tilted his head, just now being able to see the name tape plastered onto the plain white shirts that each candidate was given before their arrival at the facility. The man's name tape read "G. REYES."
Reyes had brown facial hair and a few scars on his right cheek. Along with his deeper voice, darker skin and brown eyes, he was a stark contrast to Morrison.
"Hey…" Morrison eventually responded.
"Name's Reyes. You?"
"Morrison." Jack responded after running a hand through his blond hair.
"Where ya from, Morrison?"
Jack knew what the man was doing. He was engaging him, trying to ease both their minds.
"Indiana, you?"
"Ha. A farm kid, huh?" The soldier chuckled before answering. "Los Angeles."
A city kid and a farm boy. They were different in origin and appearance.
"Think this is gonna work?" Jack asked, changing the subject abruptly to the nature of their situation.
"Heh, it better." Reyes crossed his arms. "Military's pouring a lotta' money into this. Plus, who doesn't wanna be a super soldier?"
Jack Morrison shrugged and pondered at Reyes' last comment. At first, he wanted nothing to do with the enhancement program considering he planned on getting out of the military early. Of course, that didn't go as planned. But with the growing global instability and rumors of Omnium factories going dark and rogue pushed the soldier to make an impulse decision. People needed more than just Jack Morrison; they needed a platoon or more of combat ready, enhanced soldiers, ready to protect the world.
"Either way, it's one for the history books." Reyes shrugged.
"If it doesn't get covered in black ink. This is all still very classified."
"Good point. Well, we'll chalk it up to a check in the box on the bucket list." Reyes said proudly.
"Getting genetic modifications during military service is on your bucket list?"
"...It's not on yours?" Reyes cocked an eyebrow.
Morrison smirked. "...Man, you city kids are weird."
"Yeah, keep talking farm boy. It's probably something in the food you rednecks send out."
The two soldiers did something they thought would never happen in light of their situation. They laughed.
Abruptly, the sliding door to the Barracks slid open, and two scientists and a military officer stepped in.
"Gabriel Reyes, it is your turn."
Reyes sat still for a moment as if he was contemplating his life up until that point. The man exhaled through his nose and stood up before turning to Morrison.
"Well, wish me luck. See you on the other side, Morrison."
"Good luck, Reyes."
The two men shook hands, both certain this would not be their last meeting.
There were risks to the procedures, of course. Muscle enhancing drugs, hormone altering operations. It was the risk the Military was willing to take for the next generation of advanced warfighters. It was more than likely that some of the candidates would come out of the procedures with deformities, or at the worst case; death.
Hours passed. Now only Morrison remained in the Barracks, only his thoughts of home to provide him company. In time, the same tired scientists and lone military officer would enter the Barracks to retrieve their last candidate and change him from the typical man he currently was into something more.
"Jack Morrison...It's time."
Morrison took a deep breath and clenched his fists, trying to psych himself up for the upcoming procedure.
Check this off the bucket list…
"Alright…" He finally answered and got to his feet, following the scientists out of the barracks and towards the operating labs.
One of the scientists, a female, reached into her lab coat, retrieving a small communications device.
"Prepare the operating chamber for Candidate 76." She spoke in a low tone, likely to avoid further discomfort to the understandably unnerved Soldier behind her.
"Understood, preparing chamber now."
The small group of four traversed a long dark hallway, occasionally passing heavily armed United States soldiers wearing facial protection to mask their identities. Truly this place was not meant to exist in public records.
"Whatever happens next, Morrison." The Officer escorting him finally spoke. "I want you to know you're doing a great service to your country, and to the world. The world may not know it yet, but a storm is coming, and we're going to need men like you."
"Thank you, Sir." Jack responded, failing to hide the nervousness in his voice.
The group came to a stop, only a large entryway blocking their advance. They had reached their destination. Morrison was practically shaking while thinking about the possible outcomes. But he had made his decision, and he would live with it like the soldier he was.
"Are you ready, Candidate 76?" One of the scientists asked, placing a hand on the man's shoulder.
He took a deep breath, thinking of all the good he could do once he was a better soldier.
"I'm ready." The determination in his voice reflected the main reason why he was selected in the first place; his courage.
"Very well. Please, proceed into the chamber, and we'll be right with you."
"Godspeed, Morrison." The officer, a Colonel, nodded to the soldier and stood his ground, leaving the other scientist to guide Morrison into the operating chamber.
Whatever would happen next would shape the future of Jack Morrison's life forever.
Candidate 76 entered the operating chamber. It was dimly lit. Monitors were scattered across the room. In addition, multiple autonomous operating arms and operating tools placed meticulously on their trays littered the room. In the center of the room, a lone gunmetal grey operating table was illuminated by ceiling lamps.
"Cozy…" Morrison mused to himself.
"Okay, Candidate 76, we're ready to get started. Go ahead and remove your shirt and lie down on the table, please." Both scientists entered the room while equipping their surgical masks and gloves.
Jack sighed and did as instructed. A shiver immediately traveled down his spine as his skin made contact with the cold operating table.
"Try to keep my face and hair intact, okay doc? It's about all I've got going for me if this goes south." Morrison tried his hand at humour.
"Don't worry, 76. You're in good hands. We'll get this over with in no time. In the meantime, however, we'll put you under."
Before Jack could react, the scientist placed an oxygen mask over his face that would soon render the soldier unconscious. As the soldier grew tired, he could see the medical staff preparing their tools and machinery as well as a recording of the operation.
What caught his eye the most, however, was also the last thing he saw before going unconscious. A screen displaying his candidate number,
Soldier: 76