"It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live." – Marcus Aurelius
Talon Headquarters, Post – Overwatch Dissolution
The air was tight with anxious figures sitting in a dimly lit room with red accents fueling the vaguely sinister atmosphere of the Talon Council. Vialli, Doomfist, Sanjay, Maximillien, and to Reaper's surprise – Moira were all sitting together in this one facility. All eyes eventually directed their attention to the gloomy character situated across them. Reaper felt their cold gazes latch onto him, like an animal in captivity, like a prisoner that was out of control, like an outcast amongst outcasts.
The silence broke with Moira extending an arm and presented the wraith infront of the Council – her long fingers pointing directly towards him, "Gentlemen, as you may have heard from previous gatherings, I said I would present to you a suitable…replacement in this Council. As you all know, my tastes are well refined – and I would not want to waste any of your precious time."
Reaper glanced briefly at the Irish scientist – awed at how she had already become accustomed to the presence of their once former enemy, and how suddenly she appeared to him several weeks after the incident in Switzerland to suggest an 'opportunity'. Reaper knew all to well what his former Blackwatch subordinates were like, hell he naturally made it his job to know everything about everyone, and it was no surprise that Moira of all people would be the one to conduct business behind his back. Maybe that was the reason he recruited her, maybe that was the one and only thing he liked about her in general.
"So…'Reaper'." Vialli began as he shrugged his elbow off the back support of his leather chair and placed both arms on the table infront of him, "Moira had ensured us that you were one to take the final seat on the Talon Council. To be honest…I don't see anything special. To me, you're just a guy in tight leather wishing to be something bigger."
The wraith growled silently, fuming faint spectral tendrils off his body as his rage gradually began to build. Moira smirked devilishly as she notices his developing wrath, knowing fully what he was capable of. She slowly extended her hand and signaled the Reaper to calm down.
"Vialli, that is quite the statement coming from a man who found his way to the council through my- our accomplishments." Moira turned her head slightly towards the direction of the Reaper, confirming the acknowledged history between the two during their time as their former shadows. Vialli scoffed at the woman's remark but before he could say anything to retort, Doomfist silenced the court with a hard slam against the table with his prosthetic arm.
"Enough of this bickering." His voice emerged with authority, "The Council will resolve this trifling matter in regards to the acceptance of the killer known as the 'Reaper' into our ranks. Recent reports have shown that he is quite aligned towards Talon's interests, our informants have found sightings of this killer to be a hunter of former Overwatch agents and affiliates - in addition to receiving an endorsement from one of our own Councilors. I see no reason why the Council should not unanimously accept Moira's candidate."
Vialli stands up from his chair and furrows in distress, "How can we even trust him?! We're not just some common criminal underground! We're an organisation! This…'Reaper' is just a contract murderer, a killer. We don't even know who he is behind that wretched mask."
Maximillien and that sleazy Vishkar manager Sanjay remained silent as their watchful gaze peered on with interest in this conflict, as if both of them remained undeterred or negligent of the impact this decision would result in for the both of them. Doomfist and Moira on the otherhand, looked at Vialli with skeptical eyes – knowing that this buffoon's lust for profit and self indulgence was his only initiative within Talon's inner circle, refusing to see the bigger picture: the frame of war.
Reaper places two hands on the table and begins to slowly ascend from his seat. All eyes turned to this movement – even Vialli feels the shiver of fear crawl down his spine as spectral fumes leveled from the wraith's body.
"Vialli…" Reaper says in a distorted, scratched and graveled voice. "You were always a hard one to track down. But don't forget the one who put you in that chair."
Reaper's final sentence was delivered in a distorted and devil-like tone as his claws gracefully, yet disturbingly, pulled his mask off his face and placed it on the wooden table. Vialli's eyes widened as his puzzled expression took him several paces back, pushing aside his chair and finally letting out a concealed yelp of fear. Doomfist, Sanjay and Maximillien looked towards the wraith with an unpleasant sense of surprise – unaware that the once spearhead of Overwatch's covert operations and Commander of Blackwatch was still alive, and operating as an assassin no less. Moira herself peered on with a neutral expression, eventually her lips curled into a sly smile as her former commanding officer established his presence amongst the Council.
"Trust me or not…" Reaper continued as his form de-materialised into dark, thick smoke and travelled across the table before re-appearing directly in front of Vialli, causing the greedy corporate to take an additional step back – fear continuing to grip his core. "Don't forget, I didn't refuse to take Antonio's life. Why should I stop you from following in his footsteps? Hm? I would be happy to send him his former associate."
Vialli's petrified eyes looked to the Council, each member watching without any motive for intervention. Vialli recognizes his futile argument and acknowledges his place. Reaper returns to his seat and places his mask back over his scarred face. Silence gripped the room for several moments before Maximillien raises his hand.
"I'd say he's in." The Omnic declares with simple words. Later, Doomfist raises his arm and nods, followed by Sanjay, Moira and begrudgingly – Vialli himself. Reaper himself was astonished how easily they had accepted the fact that he was once the key figure in disrupting Talon's operations during his time in Blackwatch. But then again – a man like him had his uses.
"With the Council in agreement, Reaper will be appointed as the final seat within Talon's inner Council." Doomfist says with a hesitant tone, still skeptical of the former Blackwatch Commander. "We will reconvene on another date, but for now – this meeting is now concluded."
Not long after the Council meeting. Reaper was approached by Moira outside the conference room in regards to his first duties.
"Now Gabriel, weren't you glad that you accepted my proposal?"
"Better align with someone than with no one I suppose. Which makes me wonder how long you've been in contact with Talon since the moment I met you." The wraith replied with his head tilted towards the slightly taller woman.
Moira winced with surprise at the man's attention to her actions and smiled, "Then you'll know that the Council intends to test you. Blackwatch and general Overwatch affiliates weren't too popular with Talon as you would know. They'll be sending you to do something under surveillance, and make sure you're still not a righteous sod."
"Trust me Moira…my past stays in the past."
The Talon scientist chuckles as she leads him towards her research centre.
"Well Gabriel. I think it was best to show you one of Talon's more recent responsibilities they had placed on me."
The doors slid open and as Reaper looked forward, his eyes widened behind his mask and his throat clenched as words struggled to breach from his mouth. The door revealed a Talon soldier clad in its signature white armour with a white recon visor sitting ontop of her face. Her head turned instantly towards their direction before the doors even reached the end.
"Amélie…" Reaper thought to himself.
"I trust you're familiar with the famous case of Amélie Larcroix. Missing on the night of Gérard's murder."
"Yes…" Reaper said huskily.
Moira presented the wraith with a slender arm, "Larcroix. Welcome the newest seat to the Council. You will be his surveillance operative in the field for the time being."
Amélie nodded in Reaper's direction, lips pursed and silent.
"Would you mind showing him what you can do?" Moira asked in a cynical tone. Once again, Amélie nodded with a stern expression as she prepped her rifle off her lap and made her way towards Talon's practice range with the two Council members accompanying behind her.
As they arrived at the range, the Sniper took her station and set the targets to the maximum difficulty. Moira and Reaper watched from a distance, analyzing the woman that had been turned into a killer.
"Overwatch…Blackwatch…Interpol, everyone was looking for her. Kidnapped by Talon for the second time – presumed dead. But she's here. All this time she was here." Reaper murmured to the scientist next to him. Moira glanced at the man beside her and gave him a curious frown.
"Oh? Do you have history with one of Paris' most accomplished dancers?"
"I knew her through a friend. Her husband."
"Ah, the diplomat. How ironic. He spoke out extensively against Talon and it's operations."
"He did…" Reaper replied in a mellow tone. His eyes trailed the movement of the Sniper below them. Swift alterations to her rifle were made in quick and steady actions, her recon visor came down to her eyes and she was instantly ready to fire. Holo-targets appeared at a tremendous distance and rapidly moving as if they were sentient marks. A brief moment passed as the Sniper inhaled – her lung lax and steady, her heart calm and slow. With a sharp exhale, her trigger finger acted.
Reaper watched in awe as the woman he once knew began to drop the targets one by one, almost as if she was instinctively identifying her targets and instantly locking her sight from one to the next. Moira smiled as she can tell the expression the wraith was making beneath his white façade.
"Extensive conditioning and procedural augmentation was made to her mental and bio-structural systems. A slower heart-rate was seen to give Larcroix a more effective performance on the field-"
"…Hence why she has that pale blue skin." Reaper interrupted, his gaze still fixated on the assassin now known as 'Widowmaker'.
"Precisely." Moira confirmed.
"How long…how long did she undergo this procedure?" Reaper asked as he finally turned his head to the scientist.
"Longer than I've been in Talon. Her procedures were theoretically sound and even efficient in practice – however…I was just brought in to perfect her conditioning. Perhaps, I could do the same to you. Finish what we started hm?"
"Yeah…" Reaper said with a hesitant tone, "Maybe."
Time passed and Widowmaker had completed one of the hardest courses in Talon's firearm facility. She made her way back up to the waiting Council members and awaited her next commands.
"Impressive as usual, Larcroix." Moira remarked with a satisfied smirk, no doubt praising her own work as she usually does. Some things don't change, Reaper knew that. From Blackwatch to Talon, things will continue to operate with little to no effect. A goal is to be accomplished, like any other organisation or company. Whether it be profit, domination or any other means – the world will run as it is. Unless someone or something wields enough momentum to shatter that cycle forever.
"Return to your quarters. We'll notify you once Reaper has been assigned to a task."
Widowmaker nodded and left the room without question. Reaper turned to Moira and asked her a solemn question, a question that had him pondering for years.
"How long were you affiliated with Talon Moira? How long were you in the shadows? Lurking behind my back for all this time?"
Moira simply smiled and began to make her way out of the facility.
"…I will tell you this. Commander. Talon has always been thought to be a 'terrorist' organisation. An organised anarchistic paramilitary sector of this world hell-bent on the destabalisation of modern society. This is simply not true. Overwatch was wrong. The UN was wrong. They simply refused to see the bigger picture. But Talon? Talon is not centralised on one government or one goal. Talon is based on an idea. That is why Overwatch fell – that is why Talon is still here."
The doors closed as Moira concluded her statement, leaving Reaper alone in this new environment, once again leaving him in a position of leadership within the upper echelon of the institute he once considered was the enemy, a member of the Council he once deemed was the foe, a spearhead of the subordinates he once killed in the name of righteous justice. But through Reaper's thoughts he pushed through all this hypocritical gesture and focused on the one thing that haunted him ever since he laid eyes on it.
"Amélie…what have they done to you?"
Present Day, Chateau Guillard
The pale white mask of the Reaper lay still on the stone pavement, its hollow sockets watching as a dark figure loomed closer and closer to a petrified Widowmaker. Her eyes remained wide open, refusing to look away from the man she once knew. A low gruff was heard from the dark figure as he stopped just in front of the window – the moonlight shining onto his fully exposed form. Gabriel narrowed his eyes as he saw in Amélie the same expression in which Ana gave him in Egypt when she removed his mask. Shock, retort, processing…a hint of disgust. Could he blame her? He knew what he looked like – Moira tried her best to regain what remnants of his past figure resonated, and while he thought it was close enough, some scars never heal.
"Gabriel…" Amélie murmured beneath her breath. While her voice was shy, the wraith noticed hints of emotionless and cold tones hindering behind her throat, signaling that her conditioning may have left remnants of the procedure lingering in her system. Gabriel took several steps forward before stopping just in front of the woman. Amélie in turn took several steps back – still comprehending the fact that the man that she knew well before her abduction, and the man she presumed dead along with her husband, was alive. Alive. Standing right in front of her.
"Yeah…" Reyes murmured. "Not what you expected. Huh?"
"Toi trou du cul!" The woman shouted as she lunged forward and threw punches towards the wraith. Surprised and caught off guard, Reyes copped a strike against his face and several against his abdomen, winding him and sending him several paces back.
"You used me you bastard! All this time! Acting without my own will! And it was all under you!" She continued to frantically throw punches against the Reaper's armour, tears beginning to swell in her eyes.
While the pain was afflicted to Gabriel's body, he simply accepted it. He knew her rage, a rage he understood. He allowed her to vent that pain, that rage, that feeling of betrayal all against him. He deserved it if nothing else. Reyes soon developed a notion of unfeeling towards the woman's strikes, his stomach constantly being raided by hard fists. He lowered his head down, his eyes observing her facial expressions as she continued to attack him. She wasn't even looking him at this point, her eyes fixated themselves on the floor – tears streaming down her cheeks and riveting off her chin and onto the stone floor. With every punch she threw against the wraith, she would murmur something barely audible, something similar to a hateful hiss.
Gabriel felt sorrow as she felt the weight behind her punches. How she hoped that this was not how it was. How a man that was invited to her home would turn into the manipulative killer he was now. How the man she danced with all that time ago had changed into something that was barely recognisable. How the Reyes she once trusted as the aid to her husband had been the malicious killer behind many of Overwatch's former agents. With one final punch, her clenched fist stayed at the wraith's stomach.
Reyes could feel her clench fist tremble, an action he didn't expect from the steady assassin he has come to presume. Yet realising that after countless procedures and constant experimentation, all that that pent up stress, pressure, human emotion had begun to reemerge within Larcroix – he couldn't help but feel regret towards her.
Soft whimpers could be heard beneath the former assassin's breath. Tears began to gradually build within Gabriel's eyes – realising how useless he was, is. Her sorrow signified a broken promise, a promise he failed to keep, a promise he desecrated upon the death of his companion.
'Promise me Gabriel, if anything happens to me – you will never allow any kind of harm or grief fall on her.'
Those words rang inside his mind, causing him to look up towards the ceiling – tears beginning to stream down the wraith's cheeks and curse himself. Amélie slowly pulled her arm away from his stomach and began to walk the opposite direction, her arm holding her other bicep and continued to look down to the floor.
"Amélie…I-" Reyes froze midsentence as she turned around instantly with cat-like eyes. Golden globes met his gaze with anger and hate. The feeling of betrayal and manipulation burned within her core, seething within her boiling blood.
"I…I can't explain why I've decided to use Talon to achieve what I want. And really, it's more complicated than you think. But it was never my intention to use you."
"All the things I've done…" Her throat clenched with emotion as every word escaped from her mouth was accompanied by a soft snivel, "All those people I've killed. I felt nothing. But finally, after being freed from that – prison. Pain. Pain was all I could feel, Gabriel. Tell me…how long did you know that I was trapped in the clutches of Talon's experiments?"
Reyes narrowed his eyes with guilt.
"How long did you watch me perform Talon's dirty work like a lap dog!"
Gabriel grit his teeth behind closed lips, fists beginning to curl with anger. Anger towards himself.
"It was never your intention to use me? Then how long did you stand idly by, doing. NOTHING!" The woman screamed with a voice so filled with hate and passion, it caused Gabriel to act purely on instinct. Amélie saw him coming towards her, her eyes wide with surprise and being caught off-guard. Her body froze as the dark figure approached her. Her tears streamed down her face and her body tensed as his arms folded around her and tugged her close to his chest. As the distance closed between the two, she could hear the murmuring of a sincere man.
"I'm sorry." He repeated to himself and to her.
"I'm sorry."
Amélie stood in awe, new tears beginning to build in the woman's eyes. Gradually, she lifted her arms and wrapped them around his body in turn. With closed eyes she placed her forehead against his chest and murmured.
"I know you are. Gabriel. I know you are."