The city of Vale, late at night on a Saturday; the sprawling bastion of humanity was teeming with life. In one place, crowds lined the streets as the most popular club finally reopened. Somewhere else, a gentleman-thief and his lacklustre goons chose the wrong Dust store to rob. All across the city, a thousand stories played out, shared by a hundred-thousand people. But all those stories, and all those people, were somewhere else.
Jack had waited patiently, shadowing his prey across half of Vale, until huntsman and prey were finally alone, choosing a deserted industrial area to make his move.
"Eyes on target, street level, one block east." A familiar voice hissed through his earpiece. Jack had flicked the safety off his weapon as soon as he heard the static buzz preceding the message.
"Acknowledged, thanks Ana." He whispered back, and then darted into the nearest alleyway.
Just before he entered the next street, Jack skidded to a stop, pressing his back against a wall as he slowly approached the corner. Barely even breathing, he inched his way towards the edge, head tilted so he could peer into the open while exposing only the slightest sliver of his head.
The target was walking – nay, strolling – down the street, billowing black hooded cloak concealing their features, but there was no question in Jack's mind. This was the man he was trying to find; the man he was trying to kill.
Jack pulled back and readied his weapon. Modern hunters were often extravagant in their armaments, with multiple transforming modes for mixed melee and ranged combat, but Jack was not the kind of person regularly described as 'modern'. He was just fine with an off-the-shelf pulse rifle, loaded for Wind- and Burn-Dust. And no, he hadn't given it a name, thank you very much.
"Ana, weapons free as soon as I open fire. Let's end the bastard."
"Roger that – WAIT! Unknown contact, six-o'clock!"
Jack immediately saw what his friend had noticed, though how the newcomer had so far eluded all three of them was a mystery for the ages.
"Stop, in the name of the law!" A high-pitched and sharply accented voice shattered the midnight quiet. The cliché command was made no more intimidating for coming from what looked to be a scrawny teenaged girl. The youth wore a bomber jacket and bright orange leggings, of all things, with a pair of goggles holding back her short chocolate-brown hair, which otherwise seemed to be flying off in literally every possible direction. A pair of bulky, finned gauntlets completed the 'look'.
Jack watched with trepidation as his target stopped in their tracks, and slowly turned to face the would-be law enforcer. The dark cloak swept aside to reveal an equally colourless suit of form-fitting polymer armour, the pitch only broken by a bandolier of crimson ammunition. The most striking feature, however, was the 'face' that could be discerned underneath the cowl. The figure's features were hidden by a solid plate, pale matte white like bleached bone, the expanse only interrupted by a pair of eyeholes that seemed to open only into darkness. The figure cocked his head to one side, contemplating the interloper in bemusement.
"Because of your suspicious activity and, you know, dressing like a psychopath, I am placing you under citizen's arrest!" The girl exclaimed, seemingly unphased by the intimidating presence before her.
The cloaked figure reacted in two ways: firstly, he began laughing, a low chuckle that reverberated unnaturally and set the hairs on Jack's neck standing upright. Secondly, he reached an arm across his torso, to one of his hip-holsters.
Jack looked at the monster he had spent years hunting for, the bastard who was now in the open and distracted. He looked at the girl, the civilian child, who comprised said distraction. There was no choice, not even a moment's hesitation.
"GET OUT OF HERE KID!" He yelled without looking, spinning around the corner and raising his rifle in one smooth motion.
If the figure was surprised at Jack's intrusion, his only reaction was to shift his gaze to the aging huntsman.
Jack squeezed the trigger, sending a spurt of fire, metal, and Dust racing towards his prey. However, while the cloaked terror hadn't made any effort to dodge, Jack's aim was far from perfect as he dove to place himself between the dark presence and the defenceless teenager: his shots all went wide.
Somewhere behind and above Jack, a loud crack echoed through the night, and where he had failed, Ana's aim was true. Jack almost smiled as he saw the line of light pierce the figure's chest, but the smile died quickly when his prey did not. Rather than the flesh of his torso exploding in blood and gore, as Jack would have sorely liked, the figure seemed to dissipate around the contrail, his features fading into tar-coloured smoke, that faded into nothing.
"Ana, do you see the target?" He barked into his microphone.
No reply. In the distance, he heard the telltale boom of her sniper rifle, but what she was shooting at, he could not tell.
"ANA!" He shouted, as if that might somehow improve the signal.
"Dear Ana is preoccupied right now, I'm afraid." A low, growling voice emanated from behind Jack, and the old soldier whipped around as fast is humanly possible – perhaps slightly faster.
He froze completely, however, when he saw the figure, with one black-clad arm clutching the girl to his chest. To her credit, the girl wasn't panicking, but she was definitely keeping a very close, and very wide, eye on the sawn-off shotgun that was now pressed up against her jaw.
"Reaper," Jack began, speaking painfully slowly and deliberately, "let her go. This has nothing to do with her."
Reaper shifted slightly, seeming to consider the girl, but without for a moment removing his gaze from the huntsman standing opposite them.
"No." Reaper deadpanned.
Well, it was worth trying, Jack thought to himself. Reaper had a hostage, Ana was still silent; Jack had nothing, and they both knew it. All that work, wasted, because they both knew he wouldn't risk a stranger's life.
"So, am I your hostage now, or something?" Said stranger looked away from the weapon at her head, and towards Reaper's faux bone mask.
"Yeah, and you're doing great, kid." Reaper replied lightly. The girl, however, frowned, and seemed to ponder for a moment.
"No thanks love." And then she was gone.
Not gone like Reaper could be gone, dissolving into smoke and shadow, but simply not there anymore. Unwilling to look anywhere but directly at Reaper, it took Jack a few moments to realise she was somehow standing beside him now, and holding a pair of submachine-guns as well.
Then a lot of things happened all at once. Reaper drew a second shotgun from his hip - even though it hadn't been sitting there until he reached for it - and leveled a weapon each at his foes. Jack aimed for the ground at his feet, and thumbed the secondary trigger, launching a flare of red Burn-Dust streaking towards the Reaper. The cloaked villain nimbly rolled aside, his armour shrugging off the debris kicked up by the fairly small explosion. As soon as he was standing, however, Reaper found himself at the center of a storm of bullets, the girl unloading the ridiculously fast weapons at their target.
One at a time, girl, Jack thought without saying, stagger your reloads.
Not that it mattered though; of the small portion of shots that were actually on target, none actually broke through the Reaper's defenses.
"Oh well." The girl, her weapons exhausted for now, simply shrugged and flashed Jack a grin. Flicking her wrists with the motion, her dual guns span and folded back into her gauntlets, while simultaneously, from another section, large blades extended backwards to run parallel to her forearms. "I'm better at close range anyway."
"Not today, you aren't." The old soldier growled back, keeping his rifle trained on the motionless Reaper. "Get back, run away if you can."
The girl was obviously a huntress in training, but even if she was old enough to be a graduate, it wouldn't matter. The Reaper and Jack had been fighting, both each other and others, for decades. The girl was no threat to the cloaked man; she barely even qualified as an annoyance.
To her credit, the girl moved to place herself behind Jack, but he would really rather not worry about her at all. He finally noticed, in the lull, that he could no longer hear the sounds of Ana's sniping, and offered a quick prayer that whatever trouble she had found was not too much for her. Jack had little doubt she could deal with any of Reaper's henchmen, but he was in no position to offer help if she needed it.
Experts at reading each other, Jack and Reaper ended their short break simultaneously. Jack sent short, controlled bursts chasing after Reaper, who elegantly dodged and span away from each stream. In return, the villain offered the occasional blast from his shotguns, but at even medium range they barely registered against Jack's defensive aura.
Whenever Reaper got too close, Jack would sprint or roll away; at close range, it was certainly Reaper's fight to lose. If he got too close to the girl, a quick Dust rocket served to dissuade him. It was a dance they were both all too familiar with, at least until the music changed.
With a roar, an airship appeared, angling carefully into the wide street. The matte black colour with red highlights left no doubt in Jack's mind who it was here for. Indeed, as soon as it landed Reaper began backing away towards it, still sending out the odd blast to prevent Jack from following. Throwing caution to the wind, the old soldier held the trigger on his pulse rifle down, sending a river of dust and metal in a vain attempt to cut off the Reaper's escape. The bullets only swirled through the villain, however, as his features retook that shadowy consistency, and the incorporeal man floated swiftly to the safety of the ship's waiting interior.
As the ship pulled up and away, Reaper reformed on the open ramp, looking down at the old soldier with scorn somehow visible on his unmoving mask.
"Better luck next time, Jack." Reaper called out, and then, he was gone.
Jack took a moment to catch his breath, and to curse under it, before tending to the next most pressing issue.
"Ana, status? Where are you?!"
A pregnant pause hung in the air, accompanied by a cold feeling in the pit of Jack's stomach, before finally his communicator hissed to life.
"I'm sorry Jack, there was an enemy sniper. Gave me the run-around, but I'm okay."
"Good," Jack let out the breath he had been holding, "meet me back at Beacon, there's one more thing I have to take care of."
"You're a real huntsman, from Beacon?" The girl asked from behind him, with a soft and clearly nervous laugh.
Jack slowly turned to face the youth, very definitely not laughing. Usually the look he gave her now caused blood to drain from faces, but this one was already unnaturally pale.
"Do you know how to treat gunshot wounds?" She asked, and then promptly collapsed in a dead faint.
Author's Note: Hey there, hypothetical reader, and let me start off with a huge thanks for taking a look at my first ever fanfiction. I've read so much over the last few years, and had so many ideas, but this is the first time I've ever put pen to paper (figuratively, that's not how the internet works).
There is a little bit of housekeeping I want to get out of the way, and we'll start with the big one: this story is very much going to be a side thing for me. My life is quite packed, and while I do have plans for this, it isn't going to take any sort of priority. Don't expect regular updates, and we may well never get to the ending that I actually haven't of about yet.
Secondly, a little clarification on what exactly this hot mess is supposed to be. RWBY's Beacon Academy has always felt very empty for a school, with like twelve students and three teachers, and for a while now I've had an idea in my head to use the heroes from Overwatch to populate it. I never planned to actually write fanfiction, but late one night during a few rounds of OW, I told my friend this idea and he said I should do it. It was late at night, so I was like "Okay". This is NOT the OW characters replacing the RWBY ones, this fic will play out at the same time as the events of the show are happening in the background, with RWBY characters around but not really being important to the plot here.
I'll also try to keep things cannon compliant, but of course RWBY has an intricate, ongoing plot with a habit of dropping new reveals and causing severe emotional pain in equal measure.
Currently, the plan is for this to be mostly shorter, almost slice-of-life style chapters just showing how the OW crew gets on at Beacon, interspersed with longer, plot advancing stuff when I have time.
Of course, all of these plans could change if this somehow becomes popular. I'm trying to be realistic, I'm neither asking for nor expecting this to become the new hotness, but if it just does, I'll probably put more work into it, but right now I just want to get to the part where I show that [CENSORED] is actually [REDACTED] and I also have [DATA EXPUNGED] as another team and dear sweet mercy I hope it's actually as cool as it seems in my head. Still a ways off though.
[Names and Skins]
Soldier: 76 (Professor Jack Morrison) - Classic without facemask
Reaper (Gabriel Rojo) - Classic
Tracer (Eleanor 'Lena' Oxton) - Classic without Chronal Accelerator