Execute
Execute.
In that moment of weakness, Talon was able to infiltrate through the nanomachines hooking him up. He was powerless, unable to control even a finger.
His body surged with so much power, like a drug keeping him on high. He dashed along Hanamura, the familiar landscapes are a blur around him. There was only one mission in his mind, the program overriding any thought.
He tried to cry out, tried to tell them but even the code rendered him mute.
Execute.
He clamors along, a drunk stuport in his steps. He tries so hard to fight it, the machinations of his body working against his will.
Stop. Stop.
It's all a silent cry. His team would be expecting him soon, only for him to slaughter them in cold blood.
Please, let not a single one cross his path.
He jumps down the platform, a loud thud of his mechanic feet announcing his presence. He prayed, a trait he had abandoned long ago. He prayed no one was here, that they had sought him elsewhere.
He willed his limbs to cease, it was slowly working. A shrieking sound echoed in his mind, perhaps the program was being removed from his system. How do omnics retain their sanity in such situations?
He grasps onto the metal column beside him, wrapping his fingers as leverage over the structure. This should be over quick.
He closes his eyes, willing his body to heed to his commands. This should be over soon, he'd have Winston check on the mechanisms for extra measure later.
"Genji?"
A soft familiar cry falls upon his ears and his body turns to the call.
No. No. No.
Execute.
He loses control for a short moment, but it's enough for the plague to override his mental grasp. He languidly walks to the medic, a soft smile on her features.
"I was so worried. Thankfully you're in good shape." She lets out a breath, "We should meet up with everyone back at Point A."
His body musters a nod at her words. Little did she know how he cried out her name, silent screams. He had no control over his body, he hated it, the very machine that was his shell.
His hand finds the familiar worn leather of his sword, drawing the blade in a slow arc.
"Is something wrong Genji?" She asks, a shade of fear on her face.
Run. Run now. Run and call the others. Run, behind them. Run away from me, Angela.
He'd never call her by her name, always preferring her profession. Funny how in silence he holds no hesitation on calling her with such familiarity.
"Run." He manages to choke out. But it was too late.
Red on white, marring the cool shade of gray with crimson. A cry of pain echoes through the silence of the garden as a body falls to the ground.
It's at that moment that he gains back the control he had lost. Mission: Execute had been achieved.
The loved blade falls in a clatter beside him as his weary arms scooped the injured medic. She's bleeding all over, staining his own armor with her lifeblood.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He sobs, if his body was even capable of tears. His masked face bowed upon her breast, cradling her body in soft rocking motions.
A gentle hand, one that has always aided him in his moments of pain caresses his covered cheek. He turns to her lidded sapphires, "It's not your fault Genji. I know you better than that."
"I tried to stop. I tried to control myself. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Angela. I-"
"Shh." She chastises him, a grimace on her features. He should call someone, anyone but he knew no one else aside from her. She was the only medic he turned to, what other name should he cry out?
"It's all right Genji."
"It's not."
"You've done your best."
"No, doctor. Don't." He pleads, even if he could sense the slowing heartbeat or the drastic amount of blood she lost, he was trying so hard to lie to himself. "Don't. I'll-I'll call someone."
"It's all right Genji."
"No, don't." Please, please don't.
I love you.
...
She leaves him with a smile and the soft reassurance that she'll wake up soon.
She didn't.
