(EDITED)
Chapter 2
Efi was fine apart from some bruises. Bastion made sure to protect her whenever Orisa wasn't scaring him off. Today was different, however, as Bastion had to go on a mission. One neither him nor the jovial Crusader next to him wanted to go on. Talon was attacking the ruins of Eichenwalde, and they had to protect the castle, as the group was attempting to steal the suit of Balderich von Adler, the leader of the Crusaders. Why they wanted the suit, Overwatch didn't know.
The team filed out of the dropship, and Bastion immediately disappeared. Reinhardt snuck by the talon agents working on a rocket-powered battering ram, and walked into the main room of the Eichenwalde castle. He pulled off his helmet, kneeling at the throne.
"Balderich von Adler… He was born here, and he died here… an armor-piercing round to the heart." Reinhardt lamented, placing a hand over his chest.
"Look, it's that Wilhelm guy." A voice whispered. Reinhardt stood, lifting his hammer and gazing around for the speaker. There were two Talon agents by the door, and the large wooden gate was being smashed open.
"Hammer… DOWN!" He slammed his hammer into the earth, causing a great rumble to pass through the floor, and knocking the Talon agents to the ground. The wooden gate smashed open, sending splinters everywhere.
He heard a small noise from behind him, and saw Balderich's mossy armor rising up. The hand reached over for its hammer. "Get down!" It yelled to Reinhardt, in an old, heavily accented voice. It snatched up the hammer, throwing it at the battering ram in a boomerang fashion. "Wunderbar!" It called out in German as it watched the hammer knock all the Talon agents off the battering ram. "What are you doing, Wilhelm?! Go! Be a Crusader!"
If Balderich was truly still alive, the man must have been around eighty years of age, maybe in his nineties. Reinhardt, absolutely dumbfounded, followed the command, running onto the battering ram and slamming his hammer onto the rocket of the ram, and slowly disabling its moving capabilities altogether.
Talon, knowing their plan had been foiled, booked it as fast as they could back to their dropship, and left very quickly.
The Balderich suit walked into the open, brushing moss off of himself. He lifted his hammer, tapping it on the ground to get the dust and dirt off. "Look at you! You are older than I am!" Balderich laughed in a heavy accent. "Meine, wie du geworden bist. You were but a small cub when I began training you, and now you are a lion!"
"You… should be dead…" Reinhardt whispered.
"Ah, but here is the thing, mein Junge. When you knelt by my throne- actually, I was going to make something up but I decided, nun, was zum Teufel. When your companion, the angel woman, called out 'Heroes never die', my spirit awoke, and… here I am! Still partially dead, so…" Balderich explained,
"Your spirit would have dissipated by now…" Reinhardt still would not believe it.
"Ah, a Crusader's soul is too strong! Now, we must find the others! Graham… That's the only name I remember…" He muttered the last bit. "Death makes your memory ein bisschen defekt."
"Mein Gott!" Reinhardt whispered, placing a hand on his superior's shoulder, looking up at the blue glowing eyes in Balderich's helmet. "It has been so long, Meister."
"I know, Auszubildender." Balderich responded. "But, there is no need for sappy reunion, Wilhelm! We are brothers in arms once again!"
(][)
He placed two fingers on the commlink in his ear. "Got eyes on the target. What do you want next?"
The person on the other end of the line gave a laugh. A feminine, Mexican-accented voice spoke. "Follow her. Don't let Talon get it."
"Got it. Following the target, Sombra." He removed his fingers from the commlink. He hefted the heavy blade in his hand onto his shoulder, the padding there protecting his body from the weight of the sword. He leapt onto the concrete ground below, slowly following his target.
"I know you are there." A heavily Russian accented voice spoke, and the target turned.
"Hello, Aleksandra. Been a long time." He wiggled his fingers over the handle of his sword, the joints letting off small whirring noises. "Got a new arm. Robotic. Figured you would hate it though." As he talked, a slight Russian accent began to appear, though it was barely noticeable, and very faded.
"Who are you? I don't recall your voice." She frowned.
He frowned at the weightlifter in front of him. He was slightly more muscular than the average person, but nothing like Zarya.
His arm was colored a dark grey, as to blend in with the shadows. His sharp, ice-blue eyes peered out of the darkness of his hood. He wore a dark grey hooded jacket over a black t-shirt. He had a large pad on his right shoulder to rest his sword on. He had a large sheath across his back.
"Leave me alone. I do not wish to talk to you, whoever you are." Zarya turned her back on him, walking away.
"You got a thing that Talon wants, y'know!" He called out at her, putting his blade in its sheath.
Zarya ignored him, continuing to walk away. He sighed, pressing a small button on the side of his wrist, and a compartment opened in his palm, shooting out a small sphere. It landed at Zarya's feet, immediately expanding into a net. The net bound Zarya's arms and legs. He walked up to Zarya's writhing body. He knelt by her, looking at the tiny needles puncturing her skin and injecting a sleeping poison.
He grabbed the necklace around her neck, taking it off with a sharp tug. The bead string broke, and he pulled the small ivory ornament off of the string, shoving it in his pocket. The small ornament was shaped like a pearl, only about two inches in diameter, made of elephant tusk.
"My employer wants this. Sorry." He gave a two-fingered wave. He pressed another button on his arm, and a translocator shot out of his palm, sticking to a shadow in the sky. He disappeared in a flash of dark blue.
A/N:
Hey! I just wanna say two things now; I do not know these languages, and would gladly welcome any better translations. I just use Google Translate. Second thing; I do not own Overwatch.
