Hello all,
So, annoyed with Ovewatch not having a story yet, I decided that I'd just make my own.
The story starts in early 2077, a few months after the comic Reflections. As of writing, the last story based material was the binary comic. As more story related material comes out, I'll do my best to integrate into the story.
Of course, if it's something that either contradicts what I've written, or I can't make fit into the existing story, I shall ignore it. I shall do my best to note where I'm ignoring such material at the beginning of each chapter.
That's all for now. Feel free to like, criticize, disapprove, comment, or offer to serenade me.
"Reports are now coming in that flight PLR7851 has also gone missing over Greenland. Viewers will remember that only yesterday flight SKV1585 went missing on route from Edmonton to Edinburgh. Reports suggested that it may have gone missing in the Arctic Ocean, but now much speculation is being made that flight 1585 may have gone missing over Greenland as well. Officials are urging the public to remain calm as the search for the missing flights continue. Sixteen nations have already pledged help in the search for the two missing flights."
Winston looked up from the half-finished prototype he was constructing. He usually didn't like to have the news distracting him from his work, but since he had recalled Overwatch, he had found himself keeping an ear to the ground more, alert for something especially startling or suspicious.
And two missing flights were both of those.
He set down the prototype and climbed upward, taking a short hop up to his tire swing, and then another one to go over the railing. He shambled over to the table with the main computer on it, grabbing the peanut butter that stood guard there.
"Problem Winston?" asked Athena, as he settled himself onto the massive tire in front of the table. Usually she had something for him, friendly reminder about his health, a sort of game between them, but at the moment she could tell that this was no time for reminders.
"When was the last time a plane crashed, not counting today or yesterday?" he asked her, reaching for the peanut butter, and plucking a banana from the bunch that was hanging from the ceiling.
"Searching," said Athena. There was a pause, and then she added. "Winston, eating one banana a day does not constitute a healthy diet."
Ok, so maybe there was time for one reminder.
"Just tell me the results," said Winston, unscrewing the peanut butter with his mouth and spitting it to the side, where it joined a growing pile of similar red lids.
"It has been eight years, four months, three days, two hours, and fifty-four minutes since the last plane crash," said Athena. She paused again, then "That's nearly as long as the last cardio workout you did."
Ok, so maybe there was time for two reminders.
"That's what I thought," growled Winston, eating the banana in one bite. He chewed slowly, thinking out loud. "We can predict the weather to an absurd degree, have technology that can fly the plane better then the pilots can, and they're designed so nothing can hack into it. And even if someone could hack into it, that's what the pilot's for. So what's making it crash?"
"Sabotage?" asked Athena, knowing that Winston had asked a rhetorical question.
"Possibly," admitted Winston, waving the banana peel at her logo. "But over the same place?"
"Running scans over Greenland for possible energy anomalies," said Athena, just a tiny hint of exasperation in her voice.
Winston dipped his hand into the peanut butter. While he wasn't working, there was no reason why he couldn't have a little snack.
"I found two in the last two days," said Athena, a second later, exasperation gone. "Showing locations."
A map of Greenland appeared on the big screen in front of him. It rapidly zoomed in, until all Winston could see was white. Two red dots pulsed on the map, within fifty kilometers of each other.
"I thought so," said Winston triumphantly, waving his peanut butter covered fingers through the air. "After the Omnic Crisis, most of the planes still had the extra armor on. It'd take quite a kick to get them out of the sky."
"Should I recall all Agents not currently on missions back to base?" asked Athena.
"No," said Winston, after a moment of consideration. "This is important. I'll call the entire main strike group personally. Mercy too." He added, as he sat up straight in his tire.
"All of them? Winston, some of them are still in the middle of active Missions, to do so now…"
"How many people were on those planes?" asked Winston. Athena didn't answer, which was an answer on its own. "This is the chance we've been waiting for. This is why Overwatch was formed, Athena. To help when no one else could, to do the jobs that the U.N. couldn't handle."
"Very well, Winston," said Athena. "Shall I call the other agents back to the base?
"Enough to make sure that it's secure. We don't want Talon to try to break in again," said Winston, eating the peanut butter on his fingers before he forgot about it. When he spoke next, his voice was slightly thick. "Oh, and Athena, try and stop anymore flights from flying over Greenland. I doubt they'll listen to us, but we have to try."
"Yes Winston."
Lena Oxton would usually be ecstatic to be here. London was always beautiful this time of night, racing along the rooftops faster than people could blink was a joy she'd never give up, and the crowd below her chanting for omnic rights showed that the people in this city were still trying to do the right thing.
Unfortunately the much bigger crowd that was threatening violence against the pro-omnic crowd was somewhat dampening her enjoyment of the moment.
The Bobbies were already coming into the plaza. They would do their best to stop anything before it got started. Lena was even hopeful that they might even be enough to stop any violence from occurring.
Right, and maybe Winston was really a human in a gorilla costume.
Her earpiece buzzed gently, and Lena answered it. Only a few people had this number, and they were all important.
"Lena?" said a deep and growly voice in her ear. For the first time that night, her face broke into a smile.
"Winston! How's my favorite Gorilla doing?"
"Fine. Better than ever, really."
"Really? Staying in shape? Eating bananas?"
"Lena," growled the voice on the other end, and Lena couldn't help but laugh.
""I'm kidding big guy! What you need?"
"Two planes have crashed over Greenland…" started Winston. Lena listened intently as Winston continued the explanation.
"Sounds serious," said Lena. The angry crowd below her was starting to spill over into the smaller one, and loud threats were starting to be exchanged from both sides. "See you in a couple of hours then?"
"At Ivigtut," confirmed Winston.
"I'll be there," said Tracer, ending the call. Ivigtut could wait until after the riot.
She started down the building, getting to the centre of the plaza. If she was fast enough, she could still stop the riot before it started.
And she hadn't been too slow in years, apart from once incident, and had vowed that she would never repeat that.
"One of the search planes for the missing flights has gone missing over Greenland. Officials are advising all commercial flights to avoid Greenland. Several airlines have issued warnings that a major delay is to be expected when flying for the next few days."
Mei-Ling Zhou shivered slightly as she waited for the door to the base to open. It was a lonely building in the middle of an empty tundra, but it was a source of warmth, and Mei would miss it a little when she moved on.
The door finally opened, and Mei hurried into the warmth. The small building was covered in computers and sensors, and it was to one of these that Mei hurried over. Even though she was cold and rather desperately looking forward to a hot meal, the data she had collected needed to be logged first.
Mei had just plugged in the data when the computer rang. Deftly shifting through icons on the screen with her gloved hand, she found the right one and pressed the button. Winston appeared on one of the smaller screens to the left. Still focused on the logging the data onto the computer, she waved at him.
"Mei, how goes the research?" boomed Winston. Mei winced slightly. If Winston had a fault, it was that he was a little too loud.
"More of the same," said Mei, smiling at her friend. "Still not good, but I'm sure there's a way we can repair the damage out there."
"There has to be," said Winston, frowning. "But something else has come up."
Mei listened intently, data forgotten for a moment. By the end, her frown was as large as Winston's.
"I'm just a scientist," she started, but Winston waved her off.
"I know, but I think you'll be of more good then you think."
"You want to be positive that it's not just the earth influencing the planes somehow?" she asked shrewdly. Technically, such a thing might be possible, but it was still a highly theoretical concept that Winston was leaning on.
"I'm just covering all my bases," he said. "Plus, I have a feeling that your endothermic diffuser could come in handy.
"Ok," said Mei, smiling at him. "I'm on my way."
Winston grinned back at her, but quickly turned off the call.
Mei turned to the little base that had been her home for the past week.
"Sorry," she told it. She had meant to stay longer, conducting some more experiments, but those could be done elsewhere. She wouldn't be coming back here, at least not for a several years.
Torbjörn Lindholm frowned, grunted, and then tugged his beard, leaning a little to keep his balance as Brigitte took a curve a little too fast.
"You know, it might do the armour some good if you let me take a look at it. I don't know how many more times can run in front of fire to protect me without it breaking apart."
"The armour has served me well," said Reinhardt, turning to look at his battered armour squirreled away in one corner of the car. "And Brigitte does her best to keep it in shape."
"She does good work," admitted Torbjörn, tugging his beard again he a regarded the armour. "But if you treat it like you just did our last battle, it's going to need more than just scrap metal to hold it together."
"Very well," allowed Reinhardt. With his massive frame, he was practically kneeling in the confined space. "Be careful with the suit my friend; it is older than everything in this car."
"So are you, big guy," called Brigitte, and Torbjörn couldn't help but let a small chuckle escape his lips.
"Give me a few hours with it, and it'll be good as new," promised Torbjörn, looking up at his friend, the barest hint of a grin still visible around his mouth, "though I can't say the same of its owner."
Reinhardt opened his mouth to respond in kind, when the phone rang.
The two of them looked at each other.
"You may not have that long, my diminutive friend," said Reinhardt, answering the call. "Justice does not wait for repairs."
"Another two planes have gone mysteriously missing over Greenland, making it a total of five missing flights, and possibly hundreds of causalities. Officials are still investing, and are calling for people to remain calm. All air traffic is now being routed away from Greenland as speculation continues to mount, with a few of the zanier theories out there including aliens, and the mythical creature called a 'Snorkack' being responsible."
Jessie McCree leaned back against the rocks and watched the small collection of buildings, the New Mexico sun reflecting off the metal roofs.
This far away from anywhere, it would be the only place around for miles. It didn't look like much more than an ancient town from the old days, but McCree had been inside it before, and knew that it was more of a fortress than anything else, and that it would be full of Deadlock Gang members. If his estimates ran true, then there'd be about forty gang members in there, sitting on enough weapons to destroy the state they were in.
Forty gang members against himself and one cyborg ninja. They didn't stand a chance. The authorities would grab the weapons, and the world would be a safer place.
At least for a few months.
A buzz in his ear, then Genji's voice in his ear, softly "Sunset is in hour. We should attack then, when we have all the advantages."
"It's not the time I usually chose to attack," said McCree, lighting up a cigar as he watched the town. "But it'll work."
He wasn't sure, but he thought he heard Genji laugh quietly on the other end.
There was another buzz in his ear, slightly louder, signalling someone trying to call them. On the other side of the line, Genji answered, and Winston's voice came through.
"I'm going to need your help," he began in his gravelly voice.
McCree listened silence, his squint never leaving the building in front of him.
"Give us a day, and we'll make it there," he said, removing his cigar and squashing it against the ground with his boot. "We've got some business to take care of first."
"Almost fifty nations have pledged support to find the missing planes. Today, the world's attention is focused on those missing flights, and the many people whose fates remain unknown. There are several vigils planned in almost a hundred different cities…"
"What do you think it is?" asked Fareeha Amari, frowning slightly at the holographic map as it rotated in thin air. She leaned on the railing, trying to get a better look at the map. 3D technology was amazing, but she had always preferred the much simpler 2D maps herself. They were easier to read by far.
"We have several theories," said the supervisor, bald head glinting slightly in the light from the holographic map. "It could be a new A.I, an outpost leftover from the Omnic Crisis, maybe even an Omniums that was built by the omnics themselves."
"We have no clue," interrupted one of the techies, the constant sound of her keyboard stopping for a moment. "That's the short answer."
"We can't say for certain that it's a threat to any of our assets," said the supervisor, glaring at the techie. "But it's possible, and part of our job is learning where attacks could come from. We need Pharah to get up there and make sure it's nothing important."
"I'll do it," said Fareeha at once. "I'd rather know where I'm going to be attacked from."
"We can have a squad assembled," offered the supervisor, but Fareeha shook her head.
"I know someone."
Jack Morrison scowled down at the crudely drawn map of the building.
"Jack," said Ana, sitting by the window, cleaning her rifle as she looked out of it. "You don't have to do this."
"There's information on there that brought down Overwatch," said Solider 76 shortly. "I need it."
"I understand that, but you can find another way in," said Ana. "Something a little less...disruptive."
Solider 76 looked up at her, mouth tightening. "My way is the best way of guaranteeing that we get the information we need. We do it right, and no one should get too hurt badly."
"That you need," corrected Ana. "I'm just here because you need protecting."
"You don't want to know why Overwatch was killed?" said Solider 76, running his hands through his white hair. "Why so our people died?"
"It doesn't matter, not anymore. I'm here to be protecting innocents. You're here because you want vengeance."
Solider 76 straightened up to argue, but Ana raised her hand to stop him and turned away, hand going to her ear. He growled softly, but slumped back down to look at the map. Ana's suggestion to not use explosives would have worked in an ideal situation.
But ideal situations didn't exist in the real world.
Ana returned to the table, and he looked back up at her.
"My Fareeha needs help, something about planes in Greenland crashing. You should come to."
"This needs to be done," he stood up straight, gesturing at the table.
"What needs to be done is protecting the innocent," said Anna, looking at him sternly with her one eye. "You understood that once, Jack."
There was a long pause.
"Maybe I did, once," Jack let out a troubled sigh and grabbed his gun, shooting one more longing look at the crude map of the tower before he turned to face Ana. "How're we going to get there?"
"Many people are worried about the five missing planes. So far, no wreckage has been found. It has been almost a decade since any plane has gone missing, and now five in two days have brought concerns to bear that there is a new threat in the world, something that we are not prepared for."
Tekhartha Zenyatta nodded at the screen.
"I'm glad to see that my favourite student is keeping busy," he said.
"You could say that, master," said Genji, as he ran past a building that was going up in flames, sword out in front of him. In the foreground, there was the sound of bullets being deflected off a blade. "I believe that we may require some help."
"You seem to have the situation well handled," said Zenyatta, as a voice growling, 'its high noon somewhere in the world' was followed by the sound of ten rapid gunshots.
"With this little gang problem, yes," admitted Genji. Zenyatta could tell that he was busy; his eyes were moving rapidly from one target the next. "But there is another situation where I believe you may be needed."
"And why's that?" asked Zenyatta, the balls around him started spinning slowly around him.
Genji stopped fighting for a moment, seeming to seriously consider the question.
"Because I believe my brother may be there as well."
"He does not want my help," replied Zenyatta, the balls spinning even faster, so that they were a blur. "He has made that clear in the past."
"But he needs it," said Genji, moving again. "He will never find peace on the path he is on."
"Very, well, I will try again," said Zenyatta, though his tone of voice did not convey hope. With a thought, the balls slowed to a halt. "Though I don't believe that he will accept help. Where shall I meet you?"
Bastion turned on the spot, torso swivelling over its stationary legs.
The forest around him remained unchanged, the trees still standing sentry, and the river was still winding its way through the land, the gentle flowing over the stones producing the closest thing it had ever heard to music.
The forest was the same, but something had changed.
Bastion waited, trying to find what had changed. It took him almost four seconds to find the signal.
It was low, faint, but there nevertheless. Two seconds there, two second on. Low, repeated nonstop.
Bastion didn't know what it meant.
The bright green bird on his shoulder flew in front of him and chirped anxiously. Bastion held out his hand, extending one finger so that the bird could land.
Bastion knew that he shouldn't investigate. He was permitted to stay here, where he'd be safe. The little man had told that as long as he stayed here, he wouldn't be bothered. It was a wide space, so Bastion hadn't been bothered to leave it.
But something deep inside him told him that he had to go to the signal.
He had taken two steps before he knew what he was doing. He didn't stop himself. The little man might be angry, but Bastion was sure that the signal had to be investigated.
He started off through the forest, the little green bird on his hand chirping worriedly at his friend.
"Officials are now confirming that the missing flights were not accidents. Whether the missing planes were hijacked or whether this was a work of sabotage is still unknown. A spokesperson for the U.N. said today at a press conference: 'The U.N. is working on the problem, and asks that everyone remain calm as this is sorted out.'"
"Dr. Ziegler?" asked one of the men tasked to assist her, as he carefully climbed over the ruins of what would have been the front wall of a school. The filth on his pants and hands showed how hard he had been working, and Angela wondered who it was that was missing drive him so. "The command centre requests you presence."
"Already on my way," said Angela, giving him a reassuring smile. "Can you keep digging for survivors, and get me immediately if you find any?"
He answered an affirmative, and Angela lifted up into the air toward the tower they were using as a command centre, using her staff to fly toward the women waiting for her there. Below her, the ruined city appeared to shrink away, hiding evidence that an earthquake had ever happened here. She alighted gently on the edge of the tower, turning to look at the woman whom she had used to draw herself up there.
"Mercy," greeted the woman. "Call for you on line one."
She gestured toward one of the computers, already turning to get back to work. Angela crossed to the computer indicated, and turned it on. Instantly, Winston appeared on her screen.
"Winston," she greeted, smiling tiredly at him. "You look...healthy. I hope the genetic treatments are holding up well?"
"Nothing wrong with them, apart from an addiction to peanut butter," he replied, baring his teeth upward into a grin that would have been scary to anyone who didn't know him.
"That might not be the treatment's fault," she noted.
"But I'm not calling for me," said Winston, back to business. "I suppose that you've been too busy to listen to the news?"
"A little," she said dryly. "Earthquakes tend to take a while to clean up."
"Well, it started with a plane disappearing..." Winston said, readjusting his glasses again. Angela listened closely as Winston repeated what he knew for what sounded like the tenth time today.
"I'm not part of Overwatch anymore," she started, but Winston waved a huge paw in front of the screen.
"I know that, but that doesn't mean you can't help us."
"I take it you want me there to care for any survivors?" asked Angela, tucking an unruly strand of hair behind her ear.
"We don't know what happened to them," said Winston, "But if any of them are still alive, they'll need you. Not to mention we may need your help if something really is up there."
Angela sighed. So came back to her being needed in combat somewhere. In the end, it always did.
"Give me two hours to finish up here, and I'll meet you there."
"Top experts are now saying that there is a sort of dome made of energy of a portion of Greenland, preventing any sort of use of satellites to see where the crashed planes have landed. Other experts claim that such a dome would be impossible, and that the wreckage of the planes has been dragged away before any trace of it could be found, or else landed in the Arctic Ocean in the first place. This has resulted in a heated debate in the scientific community…"
Reaper wondered if glaring at the young Talon employee would make him get the point faster. He tried it.
"You see, there's this energy dome around the place, and our techs believe that not only is it hiding evidence about the plane wrecks, but that the dome itself is what took down the planes. Considering that it either was powerful enough to take down a plane or sophisticated enough to disrupt the planes, we need this technology if we're to hope to stay ahead. All good till here?"
Reaper nodded once, while wondering if this fop in front of him was highly placed enough for anyone to care if he 'disappeared.' Beside him, Widowmaker also gave a stiff nod, and Reaper wondered if she was thinking the same thing.
He doubted it though. The only time she seemed to have any emotion was when she was killing people.
"We also have received intelligence that the 'reformed' Overwatch is acting on this as well. Ah," the Talon operative, his thin face not concealed at all by the full beard he had, nodded at Reaper. "I thought that that would get your attention."
Reaper growled at the operative, but inside, he felt what was left of his heart pound in excitement. Even if only a few agents were there, it'd make crossing the names on his list go much faster. This time, when the operative began to speak again, he paid much closer attention.
"Your mission is twofold. First, you need to recover the technology. Second, you need to prevent Overwatch from looking successful. Kill a few of them, at the very least. Though they have made some small moves, the public has not yet been won over by them, and for Talon to remain unopposed, it must remain that way. All good till here?"
The two of them nodded again, Reaper suppressing the urge to shoot the Talon operative as he continued to treat them like five year olds.
"To assist you in these objectives, we put Sombra on this as well. She'll be the one grabbing the technology. Furthermore, we've used some of our connections with the South Korean government to lend their best mech pilot to us for a week or so. We've also hired two mercenaries. They're unstable, but dangerous. The mech pilot should come back, if possible. The mercenaries needn't come back." The Talon operative leaned forward slightly, taking a break from his usual foppish tone. "Between you and me, I think that they're a bit crazy..."
Junkrat laughed, holding it longer then an average human probably should have when they saw their favourite rollercoaster blow up. He always thought that it was a healthy laugh himself. Strong. Loud. Good for the soul.
Roadhog leaned up against the railing over the edge of the Ferris wheel, his fat belly squeezed against the bars. Though he only grunted, Junkrat suspected the he had enjoyed it as well.
"Here, want to see another?" asked Junkrat, pulling another explosive from his vest. "If I hit the supports of that big one over there, I bet the whole thing would fall down!"
"Job," grunted Roadhog.
"What? Oh, yeah. Well, it can wait until after we've had our fun, can't it?" said Junkrat, lobbing the explosive toward the main support of the rollercoaster.
The was a dull noise like a heavy thud, and then a shrieking of metal as the coaster slowly tipped and fell to the ground, causing several million dollars of damages on the way down.
Roadhog shrugged and leaned forward, watching the mayhem below.
Sombra sat up in her chair, face lit by the computer in front of her as she listened very closely to the bearded Talon operative on the other end of the call.
"So Overwatch is headed there too? I'll be there."
She ended the call. Typing with a speed that spoke of years of experience, she called up a map of Greenland. She slumped back against the chair, considering.
Talon was on one side, Overwatch on the other. And they would meet in the middle, at a mysterious site, with no apparent connections to either side. It could belong to one of the other corporations or governments, of course, but the power to take down planes and hide the wreckage from satellites...Well, Sombra doubted that anyone had that ability.
Except for maybe one group, who were powerful enough to make her have to wipe herself off the virtual landscape. They might have that power.
It would take a little time to make sure that it wasn't connected to anything else. But if this was that mysterious group, then Sombra and Talon would have a sudden parting of ways, and that meant that Sombra needed someone as back up.
Someone who didn't belong to either Talon or Overwatch.
She started hacking into every major government agency and corporation she knew about, trying to confirm her suspicion that the energy dome wasn't connected to anyone. Twenty-five minutes later, she placed a new, untraceable call.
She'd need that backup.
"Katya," she said, unable to keep a hint of her grin out of her voice. "Friend."
"Officials have refused to comment on their operations to recover the lost planes, citing security concerns. Nevertheless, our sources have confirmed that it will be a full scale operation, with both ground and navy forces involved in the rescue operations."
Aleksandra Zaryanova remembered when the ruins of the village she was standing had been flourishing place, full of laughter.
And now, like all the places the omnics had touched in her homeland, it was nothing more than a smoking ruin, one of what felt like a million places that needed help.
"Zarya, back to command," said the voice of the field commander in her earpiece. "The rest of her squad, link up with the rest of your division. You're headed back to the front."
Zarya shouldered her massive gun, as the rest of the soldiers around her hurried in the opposite direction as her, back to the front lines where they were needed. Taking quick strides, she soon made it to command, a small, portable bunker. Whatever she was being called back for, it was important, so she didn't break stride as she entered.
As she entered she saw that the bare amount of people possible were in here. There was the commander, frowning at a screen as he chewed an end of his moustache, two specialists crowded into one tiny cubicle, and Katya Volskaya, CEO of Volskaya industries, and one of the most powerful people in Russia, and one of the main reasons why the omnics hadn't crushed Russia yet.
And also another person who needed Zarya's help.
"The opportunity's come," Katya said briefly, looking up into Zarya's face. "It's what we discussed earlier. Do you understand what you need to do?"
Zarya caught Katya looking at her cannon, and she smiled briefly.
"I believe I do."
Satya Vaswani barely glanced around as she entered Sanjay's office. She knew without looking that his office would be in perfect order, like it always was. He always had been good at keeping his office organized.
"Satya," greeted Sanjay, projecting a map of the world and walking around to the front of his hard-light desk. "We've got a mission for you, or rather for Symmetra."
"What is it that you need?" she replied stopping in front of the map, watching it as Sanjay expanded it.
"Have you heard about the missing planes?" he asked, waiting for her to nod before continuing, "Vishkar has pinpointed the location of the technology used to make it happen."
"And you want me to destroy it," Satya summarised, looking at the map as a dot appeared in the middle of Greenland.
"Only as a worst case scenario," said Sanjay. "Your mission is to recover it."
Satya nodded. No doubt there was a reason why Vishkar wanted a technology that could crash planes.
There had to be.
Sanjay must have sensed her doubts, for he leaned over the desk and closed down the map. "With this technology, we can stop anything like this from happening again. No planes should ever crash. We'll be making the world a better place for everyone."
Satya nodded. Of course there was a reason for it. She had been a fool to not see it.
"I understand," she said.
"Excellent. Now I know you're not used to missions this far away from any of our bases, but..."
Hana Song glared up at the small government official in front of her.
"Where's Ji-won?" she asked, crossing her arms. "He always told me what I'm doing. It helps me do my job you see."
"I'm afraid that he has been replaced, for arguing against a direct order," said the man in front of her. He had to be at least four times her age, and even hair transplants couldn't hide the fact that he was going bald. "Much like a certain mech pilot with the call sign of could be in the next few minutes."
"The just tell me what's going on!" said Hana fiercely. She saw the man's eyelid twitch, and took a deep breath in an effort to calm herself down. "Look, I've never complained before, not even when you first recruited me into the MEKA. I just know what I have to be prepared for."
"Fine," the man snapped, crossing his own arms and looking down at her with an annoyed expression on his face. "We owe a...company...some favours, and we're repaying them by offering your services."
"So what's the mission?" asked Hana, uncrossing her arms. Working for a corporation didn't seem too bad. She'd be helping her country repay a debt, and she'd surprised herself with how much she'd sacrifice for her country.
"I suppose you've heard of the planes disappearing." He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Um...sort of" she grinned as she saw the man in front of her frown. "I don't really watch the news much."
"Fine," said the man, eyelid twitch again. "I'll tell you what you need to know..."
Hana listened closely, interrupting a few times to ask the man to repeat what he had said.
"And we'll have some spare mechs floating in orbit above you, if you need them" said the man, "and Mrs. Song, one more thing."
"Yes?" said Hana. She was eager to get going. She doubted that Greenland was going to be her type of place, but she wouldn't know until she got there.
"No streaming combat operations on this one."
Hana pouted a little as she left the room. Talking to her fans was half the fun after all.
"We have confirmed reports that several towns on the west coast of Greenland are being evacuated. When questioned, the spokesperson for the U.N. admitted that they were evacuating towns, but only to help Operation annaffik's efficiency. Even so, experts admit that it will be several days before the operation is completely underway."
Lúcio Correia dos Santos whistled slightly, leaning back onto the couch he was sitting at.
He knew that he really should be practicing for the concert he had come here for, or that he should be writing the new song that was on the very edge of his mind. Instead, he was watching the news.
Lúcio rationalized that was practicing his procrastination skills. You never knew when they could come in handy.
"You hear about the planes?" he asked Felipe, his manager, and an old friend of his from the Favela, from before he had become famous, as Felipe entered the room.
"Honestly, I'm still in too much shock from seeing how large your hotel room is," said Felipe, dark eyes flicking around the massive suite.
"You got that right," said Lúcio, dreadlocks flopping as he looked around his rooms. "You could've fit six families in here, back home. More if they were willing to squeeze in."
His friend must have sensed something about his tone, for he clapped Lúcio on the shoulder.
"You're doing a lot of good where you are, doing what you're doing. You're inspiring change everywhere you go."
"I know bro," said Lúcio, turning to face his friend. "Sometimes I miss doing the good a little more directly, that's all. Right now it's just hard to see what I'm doing. Back in the old days, I knew that we were driving off Vishkar from what they were doing to our turf. We used to help people…"
He trailed off as an idea struck him like a electric charge. Felipe had known him for too many years miss that look.
"Oh no, Lúcio, you..."
"You know Vishkar's going to send someone," pressed Lúcio, trying to hide the grin that threatened to break out. "Do you know how much harm they could do something that could stop planes?"
"So you could ask someone else!" said Felipe, waving his arms around exasperatedly.
"You know many other people like me?" said Lúcio, grinning at his friends antics. "Besides, the next concert isn't for almost a week. I can be back before then."
"And what if you're not?" asked Felipe.
"Then make sure you refund everyone's tickets," said Lúcio, standing up and stretching. "Now let's see if I can get a flight to Greenland."
Hanzo frowned down at the girl in front of him, ignoring the bright lights flashing by at the entrance to the alleyway in front of him.
"Um, it's just a message sir," she said meekly, Green eyes that were too bright to be natural stared up into his own. She was trembling very slightly with fear. To be fair to her, most people would have been much less brave then she if the man they had been sent to deliver a message to was pointing a bow at them.
After all, one little slip of the fingers, and that would be the last thing she saw.
Not that Hanzo would ever be so clumsy to do that.
"Say it again," he ordered the girl.
"To Hanzo Shimada," she recited, overly bright green eyes looking up into sky as she remembered the message she was supposed do give. "This is request of your services. The recent discovery of a facility in Greenland needs investigating. We already have a team assembled, but your presence would be a welcome addition to it. Sincerely, Grenard Brown, Talon Agent."
Hanzo nearly smiled. So Talon thought that they could hire him. Truly, surprises never ceased.
"Tell them that I am not interested," he told the girl, shifting his bow slightly, so that it gained her attention.
"I was also instructed to tell you the enemies the team faces will be stronger than any ever seen, and that in this case, Talon's interests lie in harmony with the rest of the world's," said the girl, swiping her black hair out of her eyes. The movement, though slightly too jerky to be called casual, betrayed little fear.
Hanzo regarded the girl, unwilling to admit that he had been impressed by her courage.
"Tell them that I accept their offer," he said, lowering his bow. The girl bowed and left through the alleyway entrance, leaving him alone again. Hanzo turned and clambered onto the rooftop. He didn't trust Talon, but the promise of fighting enemies that were stronger than he had ever faced before piqued his interest.
It would either make him stronger, or kill him. Either option was fine with him.
And if Talon was lying about those enemies, then they would regret it.
The streets of Numbani were quiet, for a change.
Orisa hadn't been active—no, not active. Alive was the better word. Orisa hadn't been alive long, but she recognized that this was unusual.
For the moment, the dark, empty streets of Numbani were safe without her.
She took the opportunity to scan the news. She was so new to this world, and there was so much that she didn't know. A dozen images flickered through her vision, explosions, terrorists, a half destroyed town in the middle of nowhere, a sex scandal about a minor U.N. official.
Orisa still wasn't completely sure a sex scandal was good or bad. Effie asdf had been rather vague on that subject, when Orisa had asked.
But from what Orisa had seen and experienced, everything on the news was always bad. They were lucky if one good thing happened a week.
But then, that's why she had been made, right? To protect people. Efi had told her that she had made her so that people could feel safe again.
But right now, Orisa wasn't doing anything, wasn't helping anyone. Half the news stations were focused the missing planes, and the hundreds of possible causalities. Another disaster in a week full of them, and she was sitting still.
It occurred to Orisa that she could stop anymore planes from crashing. She could prevent any more people from being killed. Her job was to keep people safe in Numbani, but why couldn't she go further. Statistically, Numbani was one of the safest places to live in the whole world.
So why shouldn't she keep more people safe?
Orisa knew that she could handle it on her own. Every day she needed less help from Efi, to the point where Efi was even getting enough sleep these days.
Orisa could help everyone.
She walked forward, toward the docks. She could reach Greenland.
She could help everyone.
A/N: And that's the start of it. Naturally, I'm only human, so I'm bound to make mistakes. If you catch any of these, Please tell me, so that I can fix them.
Also semi-important, I will not being usually doing this many points of view for each chapter. I just had to get everyone going to the same place. So I promise that it won't always be this chaotic and jumpy for the rest of the chapters.
In the interests of heading off any misunderstandings on mistakes, let me put down some things that I know that aren't accurate.
Accents: I have a really bad ear for distinguishing accents, and I think me trying to put that down on paper would look terrible, and insult at least six different nationalities. Also, even if I thought that I could do it well, I still think that it would be too distracting.
Languages: You may have noticed that everyone here was speaking English, even though it would make more sense for people like to being speaking Korean. I have avoided any Non-English words, as what you're reading is a translation. E.I. both speakers understand Korean. In the future, there may be some bits of other languages here and there, if the situation calls for it. I suspect that if that does happen, I will surely botch the translation, and ask both your forgiveness and help correcting that if that should that happen.
Mei going because the weather may be affecting the planes. It's total BS, but it works for the purpose of the story, and with the climate issue being unknown, and planes possibly flying using the same anti-gravity thingies on cars, it could happen. But no, it's in no way based on true science.
And that's all for now. I hope that you enjoyed reading, and are looking forward toward the next chapter.
Firecam