Hello, all. Having just read the new comic prelude to the King's Row Uprising event, I figured I'd keep riding the hype train by bringing you all the true sequel to my first Overwatch story, Ripple Effect. Big thanks to everyone who's read along so far; whether you've read the main story or any of the two Side Effect one-shots, your interest in this little project of mine is what inspires me to keep going.
(side note: reading the previous stories in this series is not necessarily required, as recaps are worked into the narration, but still recommended to give you the best picture).
Without further ado, let's dive in.
Bezold Effect
Chapter 1: New Beginning
Dawn broke over the Greek city of Ilios. As the sun's light gradually canvassed the city, Ilios' people became steadily more active. Merchants lined the streets as they set up their stands, laying out their tourist baits of choice. The streets bustled more and more as the morning progressed, with all manner of people doing their best to enjoy their lives.
Even the ones who saw themselves as outcasts rose to carry out their daily routines. And one such person, tucked in the dead end of an alley, was no exception.
With a groggy groan, a young woman with shoulder-length brown hair rolled off of a bare mattress, still buried in her light bed sheets as light poured through the large window-like hole in the front door of her slapdash wooden shack.
"Ow," the girl mumbled as she stripped off her cocoon of covers and unceremoniously tossed them back onto her makeshift bed. She stood up and stretched her slim frame several times, then gathered up her scattered things.
She slid a ragged bandolier over her dark green shirt, clipped a snake-skin belt across her waist, and slipped a long quarterstaff onto her back. The girl then took several bolas, each seeming to have a taser in place of orbs, and concealed them in whatever part of her person would allow her to best do so. She repeated this process with some small handmade mines, each with a red cross sloppily painted on.
With her preparations complete, the girl lightly kicked her front door open, shielding her eyes for a moment when the light fully hit them. After taking a moment to adjust, grumbling about the sun all the while, the girl glanced out to the street. She smiled; there was no place like home.
The girl sauntered out into the world, seemingly unburdened by the weight from her collection of equipment. Soon, familiar cries drifted into her ears.
"Bread for sale! Who wants some bread?"
"Fruits and vegetables here, fresh from Oasis! Eggplants, pineapples, cabbage, the works!"
"You will find no meat fresher than you will at my stand!"
Man…so many choices today, the girl thought, keeping a hand on her staff. What should I have for breakfast?
From the safety of an alley's entrance, the girl's eyes went from merchant to merchant. Then, a vibrant purple color nestled in one stand caught her eye.
Huh…never had an eggplant before, the girl thought with a shrug. Worth a try.
She slipped out of the alley and casually crossed the street, quietly withdrawing one of her mines from its space within her clothes. Once she reached the opposite side of the street, she set the mine on the ground and kicked it over to the vegetable merchant.
"Hmm?" the merchant hummed upon seeing the device, kneeling down to check it. He failed to notice the mysterious girl clambering up the wall perpendicular to his stand.
With a beep, the mine's lid split open, spraying out a thick cloud of gas. The merchant coughed and choked as he fumbled to wave away the gas, allowing the girl who left the mine to drop from the roof unnoticed. With the merchant distracted, she snatched up a few eggplants, tucking them in her shirt before darting into another alley.
She smirked to herself. That trick never got old.
The smirk turned to a frown as she looked over one of the eggplants. This wasn't a food one would just bite into, and the girl had no means of cutting it legitimately. So, with another shrug, she pulled her staff off of her back and stabbed the butt of it into the eggplant. The gooey hole this action created gave her a chance to slip her fingers into the eggplant and, with several mighty heaves, rip it into bite-sized chunks.
"Whew!" the girl huffed. "There we go."
She quickly popped one of the eggplant pieces into her mouth. Though she had more flavorful meals in the past, the eggplant certainly wasn't terrible. She shrugged and gave it a score of seven before messily devouring the rest.
"Aw, no way!"
The girl froze. Had she been caught?
"Dude, you're so lucky! That's the best birthday present!"
The girl relaxed. There were some children just outside the alley, in a street opposite to that of the market, paying more mind to their toys and celebrations than to her. She shrugged and continued to consume her eggplants, giving the children just as little attention.
"Man, that's so cool!" one of the kids exclaimed. "Hey, what about Winston?"
The thief girl paused mid-bite. She knew the name of Winston, and it heated her blood.
"Got it covered!" another child replied. "Now Winston and Tracer are here!"
Tracer. Another name she despised, perhaps more so than that of Winston. Were they here in Ilios, violating her home? The girl stored the last of her food away, much in the manner a chipmunk would, before creeping to the edge of the alley.
The children huddled around one of their number. In each of the star child's hands was a small figurine. One figure bore the likeness of an armored gorilla, and the other was of young woman in a brown flight jacket and skin-tight yellow leggings; Winston and Tracer from Overwatch.
"Those figures are so hard to find now!" one of the patron children gasped, eyes wide with wonder. "How'd your parents get them?"
"My dad knows a few people," the figurines' owner replied smugly. He glanced over and saw an older girl, the street urchin, casually observing the children from the alley. "Hi! You want to see my action figures?"
"Won't your mom and dad be mad you're talking to strangers?" one of his admirers asked.
"Eh, don't worry about it," the thief girl shrugged. "Just because I have a big stick doesn't mean I'm going to whack you with it. Unless you make me mad, then we have a problem."
The toy-bearing child strode out of the crowd and right up to her, face beaming with excitement and pride. "What's your name?"
"Diamantina," the street urchin replied. "But my friends call me Tina."
"Do you like Overwatch, too?" the child asked, holding his figures up high enough for Tina to see them.
"Not really," the street thief shook her head. "I hung out with those two, once. They were kind of jerks."
The figurine-loving boy almost dropped his figures alongside his jaw. "You met Winston and Tracer?! THAT'S SO COOL!"
"Look, Overwatch did some bad things to me, okay?" Tina sighed, kneeling down to the boy's eye level. "I'm not gonna tell you what you can or can't like, that'll just make me as bad as them. But, take it from me: not everyone's gonna like what you like. You just gotta live with it, hang with people who get you."
"But…I want to know what meeting Tracer and Winston was like," the boy pouted.
"Yeah! Me, too!" some of his followers chanted.
"Guys, I didn't hang out with them for that long!" Tina laughed. "I met them a couple months ago while I was traveling the world. They said a few nice things, but that doesn't make them good."
"You traveled? I never get to do that!" the figurine boy gasped.
"Yeah…I traveled," Tina trailed off with a small smile. "You know, I should do it again sometime. Only so much I can do around here, and the world out there's pretty big. Plus, if I go by myself, I won't have jerks breathing down my neck and telling me what to do."
Her smile grew as her idea tumbled on like a snowball down a hill, its form compounding further the more she mused.
"Okay, I know what I'm gonna do now," Tina grinned. "I gotta go, guys. Later!"
The children gave her a chorus of short farewells as she turned and left them. Tina's grin couldn't be wider. She'd had a sufficient break, and now she yearned for more adventure. It was time for a new beginning.
Now all she needed was a good ship to stow away on.
In another part of the world that Tina longed to explore, a brunette woman in a purple coat slipped through the streets with all the ease of a shadow in the night. Soon, she came upon a door with the word "Calaveras" printed on a sign hanging beside it. Once inside the bar, the woman drifted past most of the patrons, making her way to one individual at the counter. Her contact, a man in his early thirties with wild red hair and ragged clothes, gave her a glance and a nod of acknowledgement.
"Hey," the woman said, helping herself to the seat beside him.
"Yo," the man grunted, taking a swig from his glass. "You sure take a while to get meetings arranged, Sombra."
"I told you, my bosses are working me like a dog after that botched job in Russia," the woman sighed. She looked to the bartender with a smirk. "Ya estoy lista para ese trago."
The bartender nodded and went to fill up a glass for her. Sombra looked back to her companion.
"You have what I'm looking for?" she asked.
"I don't know," the man said whimsically. "You actually have my payment for this job? And the job before that?"
"Ugh, for the love of—look, I'll get you your money soon, all right?" Sombra groaned. "Just give me the package."
Without even looking, the man pulled a small black box out of his pocket, casually tossing it to Sombra. She carefully caught it in her clawed fingers, turning the object over in her hand and examining its pulsing red circuit patterns with a cat-like grin.
"Perfecto," Sombra grinned darkly, stuffing the box in her own pocket. "You know, I've been telling my friends about you, and how you always get the job done."
"Good," the man grunted before taking another swig.
"They're very interested in getting to know you," Sombra grinned. "Interested enough to offer you a job or two, in fact."
The man paused, setting his drink down. "Don't they already have some of the top mercs in their pocket?"
"The more the merrier," Sombra shrugged. "Besides, who doesn't want to have a ninja working for them?"
"I'm no 'ninja' anymore," the man snorted, though he couldn't conceal an amused smirk. "But, I suppose the amount of people your 'friends' have working for them means they're better with their payments. Think I'll give them a shot."
"I'll be sure to let them know," Sombra smirked. "Looking forward to doing less hands-off work with you."
The man just smirked and took another swig. Employment by one of the world's top terrorist organizations sounded interesting, despite the inevitable competition he would have to face.
But that was just an opportunity to prove his mettle.