Oh my gosh it's been so long since I wrote anything for Overwatch. So a lot of people didn't think to read my Overwatch stories from the FIRST one to the most RECENT one, and read my newest one and left bad reviews, thinking Reinhardt is still 61, I just wanted to clear things for ppl who read this story, Reinhardt is 30 years old in my story, if you haven't yet, go back and read my first Overwatch story. So here we go, I own nothing, all rights go to Blizzard.
(One year prior to current events, Berlin, Germany)
Atop a lone building, stood a crusader. The tall, mechanical suit was stationary. The crusaders were one of the most required soldiers during the Ominic Crisis. Without the crusaders, the war would have been lost, the allies had no heavy front line soldiers to face the hordes of killing machines. Germany started a new experiment, Project Crusade.
Project Crusade was a turning point in the long and horrific war, the crusaders took the fight to the ominics, holding heavy lines for the troops to push forward before clashing with the waves of robots.
Suddenly, the crusader's radar registered another signature. He turned to see a man, wearing a blue, white and red jacket, and a dark metal mask, with a menacing red visor; the man held a custom pulse rifle, a weapon commonly used during the war.
"So...you are Soldier 76?" the armor clad man asked.
"Yes...it's been a long time Reinhardt..." Reinhardt was confused.
"Do I know you?" he asked 76, who shook his head.
"I wouldn't expect you to remember me by voice." he reached up and loosened the mask, before slowly pulling it off.
Reinhardt, who held his helmet on one hand and had his hammer hung on his back, his eyes widened in shock.
"Impossibe..." the face he met was his old commander.
"Morrison...you're alive?" the old soldier nodded, his eyes meeting Reinhardt's own.
"H-how?! I was at your funeral! Overwatch fell, and you were supposed to be dead...but you weren't. Why?!" Morrison shook his head.
"By the time I was able to return, Overwatch was shut down already." he sighed, but Reinhardt was still growing more furious.
"You were alive, and could have prevented the shut down if we had worked together! Why?!" Morrison shook his head, his scar still remained, a reminder of the fight that ended Overwatch.
"Reinhardt, it wouldn't have been that easy. Overwatch would have been shut down inevitably, there was nothing I could do." he tried to reason with his old friend.
"But...the others...Lena, Winston,...Jesse, Hanzo, Mercy, Torbjorn...we all said goodbye...and you weren't even dead!" he raised his hammer, anger overtaking him. With only a few seconds to think, Morrison fired a missile from his rifle.
The missile hit the crusader, sending him on his back. The suit was aged and could barely stay together, his suit was shutting down, he grabbed his helmet and threw it off. His aged features showing in the light; they were both veterans of an apocalyptic war.
"I wish you and I could see eye to eye, maybe together we could find the truth, to find why Overwatch was shut down. But if I were you...recall the members of Overwatch...something is coming and we're not ready." he overlooked his old friend, who's suit was sparking and getting slower.
"You know it's illegal, I won't risk getting us all imprisoned for life; let the former agents enjoy their lives they have." Morrison sighed, before putting his mask back on.
"If what I think is going to happen, don't say I didn't warn you." he turned and leaped from the building. Those words rang in Reinhardt's head as he laid in his barely mobile suit atop the building.
(The Present)
Reinhardt looked into the mirror of his bathroom, admiring his remade young self. His dark black hair, the mustache connecting to the short beard on his chin. He had on his usual outfit; a gray elastic shirt, hugging tightly to his muscular body, and a pair of elastic running pants, odd to see him wearing; but it was something he was comfortable wearing.
"So handsome." a kind, British voice shook the silence of admiration. Lena appeared next to him, hugging close to the large German man.
"Hey." he moved a hand to hold her close to him. He faced her and pulled her close, their lips pressing together, she moaned into the kiss; his hands found their way to her curved hip as hers wrapped around his neck.
It was the most unlikely match, but after his age reversal, his new and young brain processed his feelings much clearer then before.
Due to every member of the Germany's Crusader program being wiped out, bar him, due to the Omnic Crisis, fighting army upon army of Bastions and war machines, and after the battle of Eichenwalde was ended with the German army pushing the omnics back; He was now no longer bound by their set of codes, but he still followed the laws of chivalry, bar the fact that Crusaders never held romantic or sexual relationships with anyone and focused on the next battle, and being ready for it.
So now, he cast away some of his old codes and shared his feelings for Lena with her. Sure he was a mess; he, out of all members of Overwatch besides Morrison, Reyes, and Winston, saw the most grisly parts of the war. As a crusader, he was on the front lines and was charged with forming the main lines to hold the omnics back. But despite his constant flashbacks of the war, she didn't seem to care if he was a mess.
"It's still something I'm not used to waking up to." they separated and left their quarters. The rest of Overwatch was awake and getting to work. McRee had already gone out to bring them all breakfast; they had nobody working in their lunchrooms anymore, so McRee, being one of their few Americans went out to bring their food and meals.
A few hours passed, the group was eating together, all conversing as they once did when Overwatch had it's golden age. They had missed so much and still had to catch up with each other. They could rest easy at night since Reinhardt had declared Overwatch to be a private organization now; not bound by the laws and governments of any country.
But suddenly, the alarm began blaring, the lights went red and flashed across the base. They all leaped from the table, running to the command center.
"McRee, check up top. The rest of us, stay alert. Athena, what's going on?" he asked Winston's A.I. Jesse used the elevator and went above ground to investigate.
"Unidentified movement...unknown life signature detected." Reinhardt looked around, Tracer quickly activated the Chronal Accelerator. They were in the dark, awaiting what was lurking through the base.
Then, in the shadows they heard a light clambering of footsteps. Tracer began sprinting, the sounds of scuffling could be heard.
"Athena! Reactivate the lights!" the lights of the base came back on. In the light, the base, Tracer was being head locked by a mysterious armored man; he had a bright green visor on the helmet, and a sword on his back.
Winston growled as he leaped at the man. The armored figure dropped Tracer, dodging the gorilla's attack, before kicking Winston in the back. Torbjorn pressed a button and several turrets activated, locking onto the man.
He realized it was too late, he was surrounded by the laser guided turrets. He lowered his helmeted head, raising his hands in surrender. Reinhardt looked closer at the armored man, the way he fought.
"Hold on...I've seen that fighting style before...but only two people I knew ever mastered it." his eyes widened.
"Impossible...you're dead." they looked at the German in wonder.
The man raised his hands, pressing a few buttons and out of nowhere air hissed out from the seams of the helmet. He raised the helmet's visor off of the rest and revealed a shadow covered pair of eyes.
"Genji...is this...you?" he was in awe.
The man re-equipped his mask, the helmet reconnecting to it. "It's been a long time, Wilhelm."
"Torbjorn, Athena, stand down." the turrets all deactivated and the base returned to normal. They heard the mention of Genji, Hanzo's brother.
"Why are you here?" Reinhardt asked the resurrected man. Tracer, Winston, Mercy, Pharah, and Torbjorn all stared at him in silence.
"I heard Overwatch was reinstated. I came to see if my brother has already joined." he had no idea about what had happened.
"Wait...Genji...you don't know?" he couldn't see it, but he already knew what was going through Genji's mind.
"What are you talking about?" Reinhardt didn't say anything.
"Where's Hanzo?" Genji sounded a little worried.
"Genji...Hanzo was murdered...months ago. Half of the remaining agents were murdered." he once again couldn't see, yet knew what Genji was feeling. He saw his fists clench.
"What?! Who did it?!" he asked aloud.
"The Terrorists we're up against are behind it." Genji looked down, his emotionless mask facing the ground.
"I will see him avenged..." he looked back up. "What about Zenyatta?" Reinhardt only shook his head. Genji probably felt as if he was stabbed.
"What...what can I do...to help?" Reinhardt was shocked, the Genji he knew was a rich playboy, and didn't like to offer help. Then again, he knew Zenyatta tried to take him under his wing before Genji was supposedly dead.
"Well...I suppose you could join us...if you're offering?" Reinhardt was curious.
"I am. When do I start?" the samurai asked the crusader.
(Sydney, Australia)
The city of Sydney slept currently, in a large circling of buildings, two figures stood. One was a lumbering, round giant, the other was smaller, a bit scrawny and had very spiked hair.
"Are you sure they're coming Junkrat?" the larger man asked.
"I'm pretty sure, unless they were kidding about this." he sounded unsure. They had received messages from a certain group looking to hire them.
Suddenly, a ship disengaged it's cloak and appeared on the rooftop above them. A ramp lowered from the ship. Out stepped two figures. One was a hooded figure, wearing a skull mask. The other was a female, a sniper rifle strapped to her back; she was wearing some kind of skintight, purple suit that was somehow connected to her rifle and the visor sitting atop her head.
The two stopped in front of them. There was an unmistakeable silence as neither knew how to start.
"Are you Monsieur Junkrat and Roadhog?" the woman asked slowly.
"Maybe...depends on who you are." Roadhog answered.
"Well...if you care, I go by the name of Widowmaker...our clients...Talon, wish to hire your services." she spoke softly, but Junkrat knew she had something hidden under her skin.
"This." Reaper answered his question by grabbing a brief case he had carried and opening it; inside was was thousands of Australian dollars.
"There is much more then this." if his face wasn't hidden by the odd mask, Roadhog would be drooling over the money.
"And what do you want in return?" he asked.
"Your help...in taking down our enemy." they were curious.
"We want you to help us destroy Overwatch." this was something the two had questioned about Talon, did it have a chance? But they paid well and business was business; plus, the two of them were digging their own grave with their recent use of their money.
"Where do we sign?" Junkrat smirked, earning a chuckle from Roadhod.
(The Black Forest)
A dark, hooded figure stood over the lifeless Bastion unit. It had been knocked offline I combat against Talon soldiers, but they didn't completely destroy it.
The figure was a woman, she was working with the robot's circuits, trying to reactivate the old war machine.
"Come on Ana...you've done harder things than this..." she finally got them all in place and the robot seemed to glow and hum with life. The single light on it's helmet glowed blue.
"Welcome back...Bastion...I've got work to do...and you're gonna help me." the robot scanned her with curiosity.
"Then...I've got a daughter to track down, and answers from certain Terrorists." she smirked.
Okay ppl! I'm back with Overwatch! Sorry it took so long, delayed it so I could make TFP but I'm starting back. So if this seemed to be rushed I apologize, I'm just trying to paint the main idea for the story. Please review and tell me what you think could be done for this story.