Chapter One
Dark grey clouds filled the sky over King's Row, obscuring the moon and preventing its glow to light up the night sky. A light sprinkling of rain began to darken the pigment of the rooftops and the streets below, washing away the puddle of blood that had congealed under the head of yet another ambassador of human and omnic relationships.
"Another thread to add to my web", sneered Widowmaker, as she packed up her gun and leaped across the rooftop over the body of yet another one of her victims. Or rather, another victim of Talon, the ones who truly decided the fate of the men, women and omnics, assigned to the tip of Widowmakers rifle.
Widowmaker, an assassin brainwashed and trained to kill, was used to spending her nights like this. Jumping from roof to roof, avoiding the eyes of the authorities, and destroying the lives of Talon's enemies. It was just like any other night, however on this night, there was no jet to pick her up and return her to Talon's headquarters.
Talon had decided to stir up some trouble all around the world that night, thinning out their supply of jets and pilots that would usually extract Widowmaker from a situation like this. Instead of using their resources to pick her up, a Talon member of high rank and insurmountable rate of survivability, they decided to make her wait, knowing that out of all of their agents, she would be most capable of handling her own for the night.
After searching for a few minutes, she came across an old abandoned apartment and snuck into the building through the window, shutting the it behind her and closing the blinds to block any light from escaping. After confirming the apartment was empty, she set down her rifle and small bag of belongings she wore on her back, and began to look around for any sort of functional light. Eventually, she found a lighter and some candles and placed them around to create a low glow of light for easier navigation of the space.
She eventually managed to find an unopened bottle of wine, and based on quick glance this wine was far from the quality of the wines she enjoyed at her French chateaux, but it would do.
"Oi! Angela, what the fuck, mate!" yelled Lena Oxton. After years serving in Overwatch, it still caught her by surprise every time the resident nurse injected her with her quick healing nanoprobe technology.
"Lena, please sit still. You are impossible", Mercy responded with a look of irritation as she pulled the needle out of Tracers back.
"Well I ain't the one stabbing me with needles the size of Winston's Tesla Cannon, now, am I?" Tracer responded, flustered by the pain in her back that was suddenly turning into a burning sensation as the nanites healed her wound. "I would think with that big sciencey brain of yours, you could figure out a more painless way of doin this, eh?"
"Now Lena, if I did that I wouldn't get to hear you scream" Mercy responded with a chuckle and a slight tinge of sarcasm in her soft voice. "Now quit being over dramatic."
"Ha. Ha. Very funny. I'll have you know, some of us don't like needles much."
"In all my years of being a doctor, I would have never guessed! Thank you for teaching me something new, Lena." Angela continued on with her sarcastic banter, paying no mind to the girl still sitting on the examination table waiting to be excused. "Now get back to whatever you were doing. I've got work to do."
Lena looked at Mercy with a sideways glance, wondering what the rush to have her leave the examination room was, though Angela's eyes never gave away the answer. No worries though, Lena would just pry it out of her. She was known to be... insistent. "What's the matter with you? More work than usual?"
"There is much to be done and I can't have you here distracting me."
"Awww no fair, love! I ain't distracting! I can help! Just tell me what to do and I'll do it!"
Angela always appreciated Lena's eagerness to help, but today was not the day. Angela had a visitor coming in very soon and she needed to clean the place up and finish some paperwork quickly, before the new Overwatch Captain came in for a full medical examination.
She has been looking forward to this exam all week and she had to make sure she was ready, and she wasn't going to let anyone get in the way of that. "Thanks for the offer, Lena, but there is nothing you can do for me here. Go see if Winston needs some help."
"You sure? You seem to be preoccupied. What's wrong?" Tracer quipped, a worried expression on her face.
Angela brought her hand to her forehead, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, letting out a quiet groan. "Tracer..."
"Alright! Fine! I'm leaving. Thanks for the healing, I guess", Lena said as she spun around with a quick wave of her hand above her head, bidding Angela farewell. "Mum's a bit grumpy today, apparently" Lena grumbled to herself as she exited the door of the medical center.
"Hey Winston, you need any help in here?"
"I'm sorry Lena, but nothing that you would be able to help with" Winston responded, as he pushed his glasses back up his nose and continued to type on the keyboard.
"Athena? You busy?"
Athena bleeped onto the monitor to respond to Lena's hasty invitation. "My apologies, Lena, but I am assisting Winston with his research. Might I suggest heading to the kitchen to see if the staff needs any help preparing dinner?"
"Ughh I guess... I'm just so bored." Lena brought her palm to her forehead, visibly irritated that everyone was too busy for her, and no one had a job for her to do.
"I'm sorry, Tracer. There isn't much for us to do at the moment. Small spots of Talon activity have begun to appear all over the world." Winston began to explain, catching Lena before she could walk off to the dining hall. "We aren't yet sure what is going on or if our help is needed, but I'll keep you updated if anything changes."
"Aye, Aye, Captain." Lena responded in a defeated tone, walking slowly away from Winston's lab and towards the mess hall, not looking forward to helping the kitchen staff. "Well, this sucks."
Sunlight shone through a small crack in the wall of the abandoned apartment Widowmaker had taken residence in, and was shining directly on the empty bottle of wine she had finished the night before. Before she could get off of the couch, her communicator started vibrating and glowing a deep red.
Widowmaker stood and walked towards the communicator, picking it up and answering the call in her native French tongue. Within 30 seconds she gave her location to the Talon homebase and collected her things to meet with the extraction team in an hour.
She climbed to the top of the tallest building in her vicinity, set up a homing signal, and sat on the edge of the roof, waiting for her ticket out of this dump of a city. France was much nicer than this, remaining almost untouched by the Omnic uprising, especially in her home town of Annecy.
Oh how her patience ran thin in a place like this when she knew her newly purchased family chateau was waiting for her, along with a cellar of the finest wines, many which she had already drank. It was lonely there. Just the way she liked it. And what could be better than being alone with a glass and bottle of wine from the 1800's? Nothing that she could think of.
In less than an hour, a Talon jet dropped to the edge of the roof nearby, disabling its reflective cloak along the way, allowing Widowmaker to jump in before re-engaging the camouflage and taking back off into the sky.
"Hola, mi azul amiga. What brings you back to this fine shit hole?" Sombra, a hacker working for Talon, not "with" them as she always makes a point to let everyone know, asks as Widow enters through the door to the tech labs. "You do know we have no assignment yet, don't you?"
"I am aware. I'm required to meet with the tech lead for a checkup on my cybernetics." Widowmaker answers as she pushes past Sombra's legs that just happen to be stretched out in front of her, blocking her way.
"Que? You coulda said excuse me." Sombra kicked her feet back up on the table in front of her and Widowmaker just rolled her eyes.
Sombra was one of the few people in this world who did not act afraid of her, and it angered her to no end. How dare the tiny little Hispanic hacker act like Widow was not deserving of respect or fear. Sombra was lucky that she was working for the same team, otherwise she would have been dead long ago.
"Are they turning you even bluer? Because, I know it's not a normal skin tone, but it looks good on you."
"Are you attempting to flirt with me?" Widowmaker stops moving forward and slowly glances over her shoulder towards the hacker.
"I can if you want me to."
The smirk on Sombra's face leaves a burning feeling in Widowmakers chest, but not in a good way. In three quick steps, she brings herself back to where Sombra is seated and lifts her up by the collars of her jacket.
"Aye perra, what's your problem? I'm just fucking with you."
"You are my problem. If you do not leave me alone, I won't hesitate to break your neck and rip your head off of your spine."
"Lo siento. I didn't know you were that sensitive."
Before she can take a breath, the assassin throws Sombra into the chair she had been sitting in, and gracefully slips a knife from a sheath on her leg and brings it to the Mexicans neck, drawing blood from the light touch of the sharp blade. "Next time, I will not hesitate."
There is finally a flash of fear in her eyes as she tries not to flinch and risk being cut deeper. And with that, Widowmaker sheaths her knife and continues on her way, leaving Sombra to ponder her future life decisions when dealing with the deadly assassin.
Widowmaker enters the medical bay and is instructed to strip before stepping into the body scanner. She spots the doctor peaking at her with lust in his eyes and responds by giving him a quick glare, her eyes screaming a desire for murder, causing him to snap his head back quicker than what seemed humanly possible.
Talon employees knew not to fuck with the organizations top assassin, especially after the incident with a new recruit a year back. It took janitorial an entire day to rid the blood from the walls, floor, and ceiling of the small corridor the new recruit had decided to touch Widowmaker in. He didn't even have a chance to learn his lesson because in mere milliseconds, his carotid artery was sliced clean by Widowmakers blade.
It only took 10 minutes for Talon's scientist to run a diagnostic scan and preform a quick software update on one of the many modules implanted in Widowmakers body, before she was able to get redressed and leave the bay.
There was no reason to be at the Talon base anymore, so she quickly collected her things and hitched a ride on one of Talons cargo jets that was headed for France only a couple hours from her estate.
"Lena, I swear to the gods, if you do not chill out, I will shove a tranquilizer dart into your spine so strong that you won't be able to move for a week." Angela wasn't playing games, and Lena was fully aware of that. If the goddess of healing is threatening you, it's best to run, because she won't hesitate to do exactly what she says.
"Sorry love! I'm just so bored! I need something to do!" Tracer argued back, still trying so hard to convince the kind doctor to trust her enough to run basic lab tests.
"Lena, I love you. You know that. But you really need to find something else to do, because you know I prefer to work alone. Go clean your room or help clean the place up. We all know it needs it after years of sitting around, unused by anyone but Winston." Mercy tried to suggest anything for Lena to do that didn't require sharing her own work load, but the look on Lena's face told her that her previous suggestions were not going to convince Lena to do her own thing.
"But mum!" Lena draws out the 'uhh' in mum the way a child would if their mother was telling them to eat their peas.
"No buts, Lena. There is nothing for you to do here besides drive me insane."
"Fine..." As Tracer hangs her head in defeat, her communicator beeps loudly. One glance at the screen tells her Winston is calling, and he only ever calls if he needs something.
"What's up, fuzzy!?" Tracer yelps into her end of the line.
"I would prefer if you did not call me that, Tracer." Winston responded, with a quiet tone of respite in his grumbly voice. "I have a job for you."
"Finally! I'll be right there for briefing!" Tracer jumped up off of her spot on Angela's desk, flinging paperwork around in a frenzy, rushing out the door of the infirmary towards Winston's lab.
"Damn it, Lena!" Yelled Mercy, but by the time the words left her mouth, Tracer was long gone.
"Bonjour, madame. Où allez-vous?" The cab driver asked Amelie as she sat in the back seat of the black car.
"Annecy, s'il vous plaît."
"Comme vous le souhaitez." The driver responded to Amelie, in his thick Southern French accent, and took off down the street.
During the flight to France, Widowmaker covered her exposed skin in a natural colored makeup, tied her hair in a loose bun, and put on a pair of dark, skintight jeans, a purple v-neck, and an expensive black leather jacket. Her natural beauty shone through her makeup and her clothing hugged her body. Those who saw her were often stunned by how beautiful she was, and none were the wiser to the blue skinned, brutal assassin that hid underneath the designer sunglasses and a stoic, emotionless expression.
She walked as gracefully as a runway model, and always seemed to float through the crowds thanks to the ballet training in her previous life.
On the job, she was Widowmaker, the cold-blooded man and omnic slayer who bowed to no one, but on her time off, she was just Amelie Lacroix, the wife of the mysteriously murdered Gerard Lacroix.
No one knew she was still alive, and she intended to keep it that way, using her maiden name, Guillard, whenever she was in public.
The Guillard's had been well known in Annecy, owning a large Chateau on an island off of the coast of the city outskirts, however years of burdens on the family left the Chateau abandoned and forgotten, until Amelie recently purchased it from the bank and moved in.
She was sick of living in Talon's bases, and after several years of saving her income and the small fortune left behind by her great uncle, she was able to rid herself of her Talon living quarters. Although she still had to sleep there on occasion, she was allowed freedom to travel back to her Chateau when they had no work for her to do. She had been with Talon now for over 10 years, and they trusted that the years of training, torture, and brainwashing had finally turned Widowmaker into the perfect and loyal killing machine she was designed to be.
"Nous sommes arrivés, madamé." The cab driver snapped Amelie out of her reflection of the last couple years in Talon. Talon had no intention of ever treating her like a human being, but in her mind, she was not a human anymore. She could handle every needle they poked her with, every substance they injected, every sleazy doctor who stared at her naked form, and every chair she had been strapped down to and the tools used to torture her and turn her into a weapon. Sometimes, it even felt... good. Even the psychological torture became easy. She had been broken. She was their weapon. She was loyal and they never had to worry that their science experiment would one day turn it's back on them. She was The Widowmaker.
"You want me to wot, mate!?" Tracer was in shock by the words coming out of Winston's mouth.
"I want you to take a vacation."
"The 'ell is a vacation?" Tracer quipped, her accent always reflecting her cockney background when she got frustrated.
"A break. A breather. A Holiday. I already booked somewhere for you to stay. You're going." Winston was visibly irritated as he kept pushing the glasses up that wouldn't stay on his nose.
"But.. But, Winston! I hate vacations. I hate relaxing. What am I supposed to do anyways? Where are you sending me? Is it even fun? Is there even anything to do!?"
Winston had never seen someone so stressed out at the thought of a vacation before. "You're going to be staying in a small French Village off the coast of a beautiful lake. There is plenty to do there. You can go shopping, spend time relaxing at the cafe, you can go on the beach. I hear they even have a great local soccer team and a beautiful arena to watch them in. Plus, plenty of wineries an..."
"Winston, who the actual hell do ya think I am? Beaches? Shopping? Wineries? All I've ever wanted in life is to be a Pilot! What in the living 'ell makes ya think I want to spend time 'relaxin'!?" Tracer was furious. It was bad enough being bored in the place she liked to be, but to be bored in a place she didn't want to be? "This is fuckin' outrageous!"
"Tracer, you know how I feel about using that word." Winston had no idea what to do. He had never witnessed an agent complain an all expense paid vacation before. He was entirely besides himself. "You're going."
"Nah!"
"Yes."
"Nah!"
"Yes!"
"What is all of this racket!? How am I supposed to get any work done when I can't even hear myself think!?" Both Tracer and Winston froze at the uncharacteristic booming voice coming from the doorway.
"Angie, Winston's trying to get rid of me!" Tracer complained to the blonde stomping into the lab.
"What are you talking about?" Angie responded, perplexed by what exactly was going on.
"He's, mmmppphh! Mmm mppp mpphh!" Tracer was unable to get any words out as Winston clapped his hand to her mouth.
"I'm sending her on vacation. I am not "trying to get rid of her"", Winston answered Angela's question more annoyed than the doctor had ever seen the silverback gorilla outside of his rage in battle.
"Tracer... just take the trip and say thanks." Angela responded, rubbing her temples and looking down at the shorter girl.
Tracer blinked out of Winston's grasp before Angela could finish her sentence and landed directly in front of the blonde. "You're trying to get rid of me too? I thought we were friends!" Lena looked at Angela with the biggest puppy eyes she had ever managed to pull off.
"Lena... listen to me. You need to take a break, okay? It's good for you! Doctors orders." The brilliant doctor was not about to be manipulated by the annoying Brit that had gotten so close to her face that their noses were almost touching.
"Fine then." Lena stepped back, crossing her arms tightly in front of her in a pout. "Guess I'm just going to spend a week in France gettin' drunk at pubs and bedding pretty ladies."
"God, Lena... too much information." Angela said as she stepped back in disgust.
"Aww don't lie, you thought about doin' me before." Tracer came back, purposefully trying to irritate the older doctor with a shit eating grin.
"I have only ever been attracted to other men. I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but you are not a man." Angela had turned around and was ready to walk away when she heard Tracer snicker.
"I'm pretty sure Fareeha isn't a man either."
Tracer's words stopped Mercy dead in her tracks. "Excuse me?" She snapped back as she glared back at the cheeky little Brit.
"I see the way you look at her. That silky hair. Those awesome abs. Don't deny it."
"Lena, stop. Fareeha is a good friend. Nothing more." Angela turned back towards the door and continued to walk away. If she stuck around any longer, she was about to turn into battle Mercy, and no one needed to see the peaceful doctor like that. No one except for those who threatened to hurt the ones she loved.
"Lena... go. There is a transport ready for you in the loading dock. Some of your things will be ready for you at the hotel when you arrive in France." Winston spoke in a monotone voice as he told Tracer what to do.
"You haven't even told me where in France you're sending me off to, yet." Lena responded, visibly defeated.
"It's a small village called Annecy. Please enjoy yourself. You've done so much work for Overwatch. You need to learn to relax before you drive yourself crazy."
"Fine. I guess I'll see you in a week, Fuzzy?"
"Don't call me that, and no. Two weeks."
"But you said one week just 15 minutes ago!"
"No, you said a week. I'm saying two. Goodbye, Lena."
"But"
"Goodbye." Winston turned back in his tire chair towards his monitors and continued working.
"Fine..." Lena slowly sulked away towards the loading dock with her shoulders slumped forward and her head down.
The sun was rising over the hills as Amelie watched from her porch sipping on a glass of wine. As much as she had grown used to the mineral conditions at Talon, it was still easier to drink and forget whenever she had the chance. She had a cellar of wine filled to the brim with some of the finest wines France had to offer. Many of the wines had been left in the cellar when the Chateau was abandoned and were older than the omnic crisis.
As she relaxed in her balcony, sipping on her drink, she saw a strange sight far off in the sky. A retired Overwatch carrier, carrying who knows what. Overwatch was not allowed to conduct their business anymore after the signing of the Petras Act, but that didn't stop them from working under the radar.
She had dealt with them hundreds of times since their operation had been made illegal, and she knew she hadn't seen the last of them. While they were still in operation, she was married to one of the head generals of the organization. The mysterious death of her husband wasn't actually a mystery.
Talon had been trying to take down Gerard for years, but to no avail. Until one night, when they kidnapped his beautiful and innocent wife, Amelie Lacroix. Overwatch went into a frenzy trying to find her, but after a week, she had returned to their doorstep, seemingly unharmed, but intensely cold. After being cleared by the doctor, the field medic who went by Mercy, she returned home to her husband. A couple night's later, he was dead. His throat slit by the hands of his wife. The Amelie that had come back home the week before, was far from the same Amelie she once was.
After killing her husband, she returned to Talon, where they spent the first year committing atrocities to Amelie, turning her into the ultimate weapon. They had destroyed her ability to feel emotion. They had tortured her until she desired to follow them. They injected her with chemicals meant to slow down her heart beat, turning her skin blue in the process and numbing the pain she could feel.
The numbness didn't stop them from torturing her. They began to psychologically torture her, whispering lies and hopelessness into her ears. Leaving her in chambers for weeks on her own, with speakers repeating the same thing. "Gerard never loved you. You were made to kill. Destroying Overwatch is your fate. You are worthless without Talon. You need Talon. Without Talon, you will die. Do as we say to achieve real freedom. You are hated. You are worthless. You are nothing more than a weapon. You are, Widowmaker."
"I am Widowmaker", Amelie repeated to herself aloud after reminiscing on the things Talon told her. Their conditioning had worked. And now, whoever was in that Overwatch carrier, needed to die. It was her duty. But first, she would enjoy her first day of vacation. Whoever was in that ship could wait a day. Today, wine was more important.
"Madame, would you like me to grab you another bottle?" An omnic approached Amelie from inside of the home. It was funny, Talon hated omnics more than anything, but Amelie was indifferent. She killed them when she was told, but she also knew they were useful. She had hired a servant to take care of the Chateau when she purchased the property. It had been a year, and she still didn't bother to learn his name. He was an older model of omnic. Arguably less sentient than the omnics who protested for their rights on the streets.
"Yes. Thank you, robot." Amelie answered as she shooed him away with a wave of her hand. In a few short moments, the omnic was back with a new bottle of wine, the cork already removed, and a new glass.
"Your wine, madame", the Omnic said as he set down the bottle and class, and as soon as he came, turned around and wandered back into the mansion.
"Omnic!" Widowmaker called towards the omnic to gain his attention.
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Go home. I won't need you for a few days at least."
"Yes ma'am."
Amelie stared over the bay, in the direction the Overwatch carrier had been headed.
'Now what could Overwatch possibly be doing in France?'