The doctor sat at his desk, polishing the lenses of his glasses. A flat disinterested look sat on his face as he paid no attention to the Reaper standing at his desk. Soft raspy breaths could be heard faintly above the whirring computer.
"Reaper, you've no doubt set up back," the doctor said flatly, still not even bothering to look at him. "This was to be the death knell for Overwatch, and you've botched it. Now, they continue to exist."
"Your agents proved to be useless in the field," Reaper growled. "If they had done a better job of holding back the monkey, I-"
"Gorilla," the doctor corrected before setting his glasses back onto his face. "And what's the point of having a superpowered field agent if they can't hold their own? We didn't bring you back from the cusp of death to fail us in our time of need." Reaper clenched his fist, the fabric straining in his palm from the pressure. The doctor sighed, waving a hand dismissively at him. "The only saving grace of all this is that Winston has recalled all surviving Overwatch agents and gathered them in one spot. But we'll never have another opportunity like this again. You've failed us, Reaper. And you nearly died out there."
"I can prove I have what it takes," Reaper growled indignantly. "Send me to King's Row with-"
"No," the doctor stated. "You can barely stand as it is." Reaper was clutching his ribs with his other hand, his body not completely regenerated yet. "We've invested too much money in you. Back in the tank." Reaper glowered at the doctor from underneath his mask. Successful missions allowed him more free time out in the open, but failures would put him back in the tank indefinitely. And the last thing he wanted was to be cooped up.
"You can't do this to me-"
"I can. Because I own you." The doctor rose from his chair, palms resting on the desk. He stared the Reaper down, unintimidated by his gothic and imposing exterior. "I remade you from the cusp of death. You belong to me. Back. In. The. Tank." Reaper locked his jaw and glared daggers through the man. The indignation caused fury to well up in his chest. The doors slid open behind him, and two Talon guards armed with assault rifles approached either side of him. One reached for him arm, but Reaper snatched it away. He would not be escorted like some senior citizen. With a huff, he turned and left for the tank. Though he would have loved to tear that doctor to pieces, he was in no condition to do so. With no weapons and at half strength, he wouldn't make it out of building.
The doctor returned to his seat and tapped a button on his terminal. "Prepare the stasis tank. Agent Reaper will be undergoing medical treatment and therapy upon arrival." His gaze drifted over to the television, where a news reporter was standing in the middle of a crowd in King's Row.
The neon yellow light of Big Ben's clock shined brilliantly against the soft neon blue of the cityscape behind it. The streets were teeming with hundreds of citizens, both human and omnic as they had come to see the peace talks being held. King's Row was the old district of London, with most of the architecture retaining its classic design. Along the rooftops strode United Nations field agents, their presence obscured by the shadow of the night. As was the presence of another as she slinked across the cityscape, a trail of dead and unconscious agents following her.
The civilians down below suspected nothing, blissfully unaware that Talon had set their sights upon them. Hundreds of citizens chanted and raised signs in protest of the Second Omnic Crisis raging out in Volskaya. Amnesty between humans and omnics was on the rise once more, but things weren't as simple as they were in the age of Overwatch. The omnics were now recognized as a people and were thus protected under various civil rights acts. A different world meant that heroes could no longer just punch and shoot their way through problems anymore.
A little girl stood in attendance with her mom as she watched the area in front of them, awaiting the arrival of the Shambali representative to arrive and speak. A neon glow out of her peripheral caught her attention, and a gasp rang out as she saw its source.
"Mom! Mom, Mom!" she said, pulling on her mother's sleeve in amazement. Through the crowd maneuvered a woman wearing a yellow skintight jumpsuit and a brown aviator's jacket. Strapped to her chest was a glowing harness. She wore goggles and had wild spiky hair. The legendary Overwatch hero Tracer, known to some as Lena Oxton. She had been following the Shambali speaker as he toured throughout Britain, listening to his speeches and watching how the crowds were moved by his words. This time, things were different. This would be his last stop before he returned to the omnic monastery in Nepal. Afterwards, she would return to Watchpoint: Gibraltar and convene with Winston. His message to her after he sent out the recall troubled her. Talon had been a continuous pain in their side even after Overwatch fell, but to outright attack Gibraltar like this? It was quite a bold move. Whether it was instinct or paranoia, Tracer felt that they had something planned this evening.
The chanting turned to cheers of joy as a grey humanoid omnic with gold trim emerged from backstage to the podium. He wore a humble grey monk's robe and had a series of neon blue lights shaped like a diamond on his forehead. Tekhartha Mondatta. Cries of joy and declarations of love sounded the air. The monk bowed and waved a hand before them.
"Human. Machine. We are all one within the Iris." Though he began every speech with this statement, it never lost its touch upon the people. "Before me, I see a future. Humans and omnics standing together. United by compassion by common hopes and dreams." Tracer's eyes darted to the man in the black suit behind Mondatta, listening intently on his headset. His eyes rose to the rooftops warily, as did Tracer's in response. She slinked out of the crowd and made her way for the alleys. Up above, the UN soldiers patrolled the area at double speed.
"All units, be advised. We have possible hostile presence within the perimeter. Watch the rooftops." An agent stood, looking over the crowd. His pale face obscured by the shadow of his baseball cap. He stepped back as something whizzed past him. A metal grappling hook had embedded itself in the chimney beside him. He followed the coil leading from it only to see a fist rocket towards his face. The Widowmaker had entered the scene, ready to kill. The coil was wrapped around the agent's neck. She silenced the man with a blow to his head from the butt of her rifle. A soft satisfied smirk was present on her supple lips, blue like the rest of her form. She raised two fingers and pressed them to her visor.
"Zis is Agent Widowmaker," she said. "Respond, Doctor?"
"What's your status?" he asked in reply.
"In position. Target Mondatta in my sights. Ze United Nations agents are on alert but have not spotted me. Zey remain still unaware."
"Excellent," the doctor stated. "Take the shot and rendezvous with evac afterwards. Failure is not an option here, Widowmaker."
"Did ze Reaper fail his mission?" Widowmaker asked, unable to stop the coy smirk from rising on her face.
"Indeed. He's back in the tank. See that you don't end up the same." Widowmaker frowned. Though her feeling and expressions of emotion had been greatly suppressed by her neural therapy, she still felt disgust at the prospect of going back in the tank. Having spent years being cooped up inside that space, the prospect of returning to it made her feel slightly nauseous. She slid the grappling hook's coil around her left boot, snagging it on the firmer parts. Widowmaker allowed herself to fall over the edge, descending down the side of the building. She dangled from the side, coming to a complete standstill. The rooftop would leave her open to being spotted, but hanging from the side of the building would grant her cover and obscurity like no other. Her visor descended over her eyes, scanning the environment. She raised the rifle, transforming from its assault mode to sniper mode. Through the window of a small apartment, Mondatta could be seen. A clean shot all for her. The other lenses on her visor picked up a blue blur around her.
"Whoo!" a female voice called out. Widowmaker raised her visor and turned to see Tracer zipping along the side of the building. Her twin blasters peppered and sizzled the bricks and mortar, but Widowmaker burst through one of the windows. Tracer landed on the balcony opposite her, smirking smugly at her. No doubt in her mind was this purple woman a Talon agent.
"Trying to crash another party, love?" she asked coyly. She zipped into the open window but was kicked to the ground as Widowmaker pulled herself to the top floor with her grappling hook. She fired at the British woman, the wooden guard rails splintering under the barrage of bullets. Tracer punched a button on her gauntlet and kicked the chronal accelerator into overdrive. She zipped up the staircase after the Talon agent with great determination. Mondatta would not die this day.
"Whoa!" Tracer ducked behind the wall, pinned by Widowmaker's gunfire. With a whole rooftop between them, the Talon agent had ample space to keep the Overwatch hero at bay. The chronal accelerator blinked, recharging. Tracer couldn't zip past the constant bullets flying at her with this little space. Her mind zipped as fast as her accelerator as she tried to piece together some sort of plan. There was no way Winston could arrive in time, and all the other heroes had gone dark or had fallen out of touch. Tracer tapped on her gauntlet as fast as she could. "Mondatta's in danger! Shoot her on the roof! I repeat: shoot her on the roof!"
Back down on the ground level, the agent wearing the suit held his finger to his earpiece. That voice calling over it wasn't one of theirs.
"This is a secure channel. No one's allowed-"
"Mondatta's in danger!" Tracer said, cutting the man off. "Get him out of here!" The man's face turned grim.
"Identify yourself immediately," he growled. If this was a prank, he was going to have someone's ass. His only reply was the sound of gunfire over the comm link. His eyes widened underneath his shades. There was no doubt that this was serious. He clicked another button on his earpiece. "All rooftop teams! Check and clear! Halo is leaving! I repeat: Halo is leaving!" Mondatta was still speaking to the crowd, blissfully unaware of what was transpiring on the rooftops above. The agent approached him silently, leaning in to whisper into his audio receptor.
"Sir, there's been a breach," he said. "We need to leave now." Mondatta nodded and followed the agent as another agent emerged from the crowd to escort him. "Chariot, this is Team One. Halo is coming in hot. Over!" High above the confused crowd, Widowmaker still shot at Tracer. The agent was determined not to give her an inch of moving room.
"Widowmaker, Mondatta is leaving," the doctor stated. "What is the situation?"
"Ze situation has been compromised," she responded. "An Overwatch hero has engaged me."
"Overwatch? Here?" The doctor was quiet for a few seconds. "No matter. Mondatta cannot leave this area alive. Take him out. Failure means-"
"I will not fail!" she spat defiantly. Widowmaker turned and sprinted off the edge of the roof, leaping into the shadows beyond. Tracer leapt out from the corner, both blasters primed. UN agents on the rooftop across from her had emerged, sweeping the sector. Tracer glanced at them worriedly. No ordinary foot soldier could last against one of Talon's field agents. Whoever this woman was, she was no Reaper but definitely not something to be taken lightly. The Widowmaker swung high above the rooftop and landed onto the unsuspecting agent. His partner turned and fired at her, but she would not be deterred. With near superhuman speed, she zipped past his bullets and swept his legs out from under him. From another rooftop, a third UN agent began firing. Widowmaker smirked and sprinted along the rooftops, leaping from structure to scaffolding with pinpoint accuracy. Her parkour and navigation were leagues above any regular Talon foot soldier. Even Tracer was jealous. The UN agent darted his rifle all around but each time his bullets followed his arc, the Widowmaker had already made it to the next area. The gun clicked in his hand. Out of ammo. A shadow passed over him, and he looked above to see her pounce upon him. She spun around and shot the other man on the roof with them, his body falling limply to the ground. The man under her was shot in the chest and then had his head kicked him under her heel. The radar on her visor dinged, showing three hostiles approaching from behind. Three more UN agents were charging after her as they navigated the rooftops. Widowmaker raised her rifle and sniped the three of them with no hesitation. The men never stood a chance against her. She tapped a button on her visor and switched to infrared mode, filtering out the other figures in the crowd until she saw Mondatta. Target locked on.
"Widowmaker, you have two minutes to take out the target before his evac has arrived," the doctor said.
"Copy," she coldly replied. Another hostile was detected on her radar, approaching fast. Only one person in the field could keep up with her. With a grunt, she leapt across the rooftop and scampered from building to building, Tracer hot on her heels. She was fast, but this Overwatch hero was faster. She could not outrun her at this rate. Widowmaker pursed her lips as she found her strategy for escaping: cheat. The sniper zipped past a chimney and casually deployed a venom mine. Tracer leapt after her, her steely eyes locked onto the Talon agent. Nothing else was important besides stopping this woman from killing Mondatta. Her vision was obscured as a great cloud of purple smoke burst as if from nowhere. The venom mine deployed its hallucinogenic gas and flooded her lungs. Tracer coughed and stumbled helplessly onto the bricks below her. Her body screamed for fresh and clear oxygen, her arms like jelly as they flopped around her limply. A metal boot dug itself into her arm, pressing down upon her body. The barrel of a rifle pointed at her head. Tracer glanced up and saw the woman looking down at her with a satisfied smirk. Her golden eyes shone with contempt. "Such a sweet foolish girl." The chronal accelerator blinked on her chest, now fully recharged. Tracer's body was covered in a blue neon light as she began to zip backwards. Her body and lungs were returning to full strength.
Way to go, Winston, she cheered mentally.
"What was that?" Tracer gloated as she zipped high into the air, pelting Widowmaker with gunfire. The sniper slinked behind a chimney and returned fire. One of Tracer's bullets strayed and pieced an air conditioning unit, causing steam to waft over the area. The HUD inside her goggles blinked at the bottom, showing an icon with a hexagonal shape. "Ultimate charged!" With a triumphant shout, she chucked her pulse bomb at the woman. Widowmaker peered through the mist for her foe. Had it not been for a gust of stray wind, she would've been blown clean off the roof. The wind parted the steam and revealed the pulse bomb barreling towards her. She raised her rifle and shot the bomb, causing a large fiery cloud to rise over the rooftop. Tracer was knocked off the roof and began spiraling down towards the cold hard ground.
Down below, Mondatta's car had arrived, and the men in black were urging him into the vehicle. The omnic turned swiftly around when the sound of a boom reached his audio receptors. The crowd of people were captivated by the explosion up above. Widowmaker leapt from the rooftop, raising her rifle. Their window was closing by the millisecond, and she would not fail. She would not go back into that tank. As her rifle fully transformed, Tracer fell into place before her, blocking her shot of Mondatta. The Talon sniper pulled the trigger, leveraging each one of her odds as the bullet rocketed through the air. Either she would kill Mondatta, the hero, or both. Regardless, someone was going to die. And it would not be her.
Tracer's chronal accelerator blinked, having recharged fully. She clutched her fist and faded in a burst of blue light, zipping back to the safety of the roof. But by the time she realized the consequences of what she had just done, it was far too late. She stood on the smoky bricks of the roof and turned just in time to see the bullet shatter through Mondatta's head casing, his body falling into the limo. Screams and cries of terror rang through the crowd as they just realized why Mondatta was leaving. An assassin. And it had taken his life. The omnic's diamond flickered off forever, and the streets went wild as humans and omnics panicked in all directions. The clatter of tiles above her drew her attention.
"Looks like ze party is over." Widowmaker stood tall on the roof above, hand on her hip and rifle on her shoulder. Despair and guilt washed over Tracer as she watched the agents try and calm the panicked masses, shielding Mondatta's body.
"No, no, no, no, NO!" Tracer cried out in anguish. Her chronal accelerator flared up, and she tackled Widowmaker to the ground. They tumbled and slid to the edge, Tracer glaring and digging her fingers into her arms. "Why? Why would you do this?" She shouted at her with rage and pain. A low amused laugh in response had her blood run cold. Lights shined in Tracer's peripheral, and the sound of a humming turbine grew from silence. A large black flying vehicle rose over the rooftop.
"Adieu, chérie." Widowmaker pulled her by the collar and flipped them both over the edge. Her grappling hook shot from her wrist gauntlet and locked into the stone above. Widowmaker swung and smashed Tracer into the brick wall, causing the chronal accelerator to spark and short circuit. The sniper clenched her fist and zipped herself up, standing triumphantly over King's Row. She looked down onto the ground disdainfully, Tracer's crumpled form shaking with soft breaths on the stone. With a satisfied smirk, Widowmaker scooped up her rifle and approached the dropship. "Agent Widowmaker here. Target has been eliminated."
"Excellent!" the doctor exclaimed. "And the Overwatch agent?"
"Indisposed," she replied. "Alive but out of ze way."
"No matter. Leave her as a warning for the rest of them. The world will soon hear of her failure and humiliation. Return to base, Widowmaker. You have done excellent work." She slinked onto the dropship and took her seat. Her heart and eyes fluttered with excitement, something she had not felt in a long time. She felt so alive in this moment, a feeling of such euphoria and ecstasy. Pride in her work. And relief of being spared from the tank.