7:15 AM, Cairo, Egypt
Pharah walked out of her Egyptian apartment and closed the door behind her, locking it. She briskly walked down the brightly lit hallway, carrying a blue duffle bag in one hand and her cell phone in the other. She was distracted by the small device and hardly noticed the familiar surroundings she walked through as she scrolled down the white screen.
The building had been constructed in 2045, so it was outdated and showed some cracks and tears around the edges. However, the family who owned it kept it well tended and clean from the dust and sand that found its way into every corner and cupboard in this part of the city. The frames of holo-pictures on the wall gleamed brightly, and the window sills were polished. The owner's children did their part well to keep the family business going.
The windows themselves were spotless and gave an amazing view of Cairo. Skyscrapers and office buildings stood tall and orderly, with smaller apartment buildings and business structures standing in between. The sounds of traffic and human life reached up to touch the advertisement strewn walls, and then disappear into the cloudless blue sky. In the distance rose the massive pyramids, defying time and nature in impressive beauty.
In the shadows, though, were the rundown suburbs, made of dusty stone and concrete. There lived the workers and tradesmen with their families, barely scraping by on unfair wages and poor living conditions. These communities flanked the entire perimeter of the city, and were part of the old section that included ruins and abodes that were made hundreds, if not thousands of years ago
Then, in large patches miles wide, were the bombing wounds. Gray rock and rubble lay where attacks had been made with devastating weapons of war. Many had been there since the Omnic Wars, still awaiting recovery and new development, but a few were more recent, only a sign of the current times in the world. One patch was brand new and still smoking and covered in ash and toppled buildings. People were still scrounging around in it, searching for missing people and surviving belongings. Many had simply lost their homes and were wondering around, lost.
Pharah continued on though, not noticing any of it. Her brown army boots squeaked on the cold, tile floor, and her light, khaki pants swished as she walked. She wore a plain, black t-shirt and belt, and her jet-black hair was done up in a high ponytail with her golden ornaments hanging down in front. She had a light layer of eyeshadow on her darkly tanned face, and under her right eye she bore a tattoo.
The tattoo was an Udjat, the Eye of Horus, in honor and remembrance of her mother, who had had a similar tattoo. Her mother's tattoo, under the left eye, had been the Eye of Ra, a sign of protection, like the Eye of Horus. At one time, Pharah had thought that the tattoo would protect her, but she had come to learn that it meant that she was the protector.
The distracted woman went to the old pulley elevator and automatically pushed ''G'' for ground level, and put down her duffle bag to text an old school friend she had randomly come into contact with a few months ago. Chances were with work and all, she wouldn't put much effort into keeping the relationship up and it would fade away soon. ''Fareeha'' as most people who worked with her knew her, was very dedicated to her position. One thing she was trying to keep up though, was her newly found relationship with her father.
A loud ''ping!'' heralded the end of the descent, and Pharah picked up her bag and exited the elevator, instantly entering the lobby, which was filled with golden morning light from the big front windows and glass doors.
Janna, the eleven-year old daughter of Maheesa and Khepri, the owners, was sitting at the front desk, beaming at Pharah as she walked in and put her bag down again.
''Sabah alkhyr fa misr alhaditha!*,'' she said, jumping off the stool and running around the counter.
''Good morning to you too,'' Pharah said, picking up the small girl and tossing her above her head with her strong arms. Janna squealed with delight and Pharah chuckled as she put the girl down gently. Then Pharah kneeled down and reached into the deep pocket of her pants to pull out a small figurine in the shape of an ibis. The figurine was brightly painted with white and gold and was expertly crafted to be true to life.
Janna's eyes lit up with joyful surprise and she couldn't stop beaming.
''I found this at the market and it reminded me of you,'' Pharah said, handing Janna the ibis.
''Ohh, it's beautiful! Thank you, Fareeha!,'' she said happily, and then bent forward and gave Pharah a big hug around the neck. Equally surprised, Pharah smiled and hugged back. Then she got up and stood to attention, saluting the little girl. Janna mimicked her and put on the most serious face she could, furrowing her dark eyebrows and putting out her bottom lip.
Pharah was almost struck by how much the girl reminded her of herself with that bright sun dress and pixie hair cut. Free spirit full of love and innocence; it brought up a sense of duty in Pharah. This was what she fought for.
Pharah smiled and finished the salute, which Janna gave back. She ruffled the girl's black hair and then picked up her duffle bag.
''I'll see you later, little crocodile,'' she teased. ''And tell your brothers and sisters hello for me.''
''I will! Goodbye!,'' said Janna, and Pharah waved and walked out the glass front doors.
She exited out into an already warm Egyptian day in December. A few people walked down the sidewalk, none particularly interesting in any way. Cars passed each other on the street on their ways to work, but, like the people, they were few. It was early and this was a slower part of town.
Pharah paused outside the apartment building and put her phone into her back pocket. Breathing a deep breath of fresh, dry air, Pharah made her way down the walkway to her car. She lifted up the back hatch and hefted her duffle bag into it. The well used bag contained the base essentials of clothes and hygienic items, as well as a small select number of personal items.
She closed the back and then climbed into her seat and started the car. Securing the seat belt, Pharah leaned over and retrieved her dark, gold-rimmed aviator sunglasses from the glovebox. She put them on and sat back to feel the familiar hum of the anti grav cylinder system of her hover car.
She then pulled out of the parking space and began the commute to the headquarters of Helix Security International, where she was employed. She was actually supposed to still be off, after her and her squadron had just finished working for an entire week to clean up the mess Talon had made after attacking an Anubis facility. She shouldn't complain though. Everyone in the squad had survived and Talon had been beaten back. She should be grateful that the civilian casualties had been so low, unlike previous engagements. She should be grateful that she had been in good enough condition to help the search and rescue teams and fly supplies back and forth to the aid camp. She should be grateful that she wasn't stuck in a hospital bed with a bullet wound and a broken arm. No, she wouldn't complain. Three days had been plenty to catch up on sleep and get rested up. Heck, she was lucky they hadn't just kept her in the barracks. Her own bed was greatly appreciated.
Pharah pulled up to the security gate and scanned her access card. The bar lifted and she gave a small wave to the guard in the guardhouse.
Instead of going directly to the barrack's parking lot, she turned her car off in front of the main office building of the complex. Her commander had requested her for some important matter, and that should come before settling in.
The building was quite large and up-to-date with recent technology. Technically, Helix Security was a private business, but it was largely funded by the Egyptian government, who were interested in the company's military research and development programs. Pharah was part of the main branch of development, R.P.T.R.A., short for ''rocket-propelled tactical ranger airsuit'', more commonly called a raptora unit. If the raptora squadrons could refine their methods and pull off a couple more major missions, then the Egyptian army was planning to request a contract to acquire its own airsuits. That would definitely mean a raise for all of Helix Security's soldiers and employees.
None of that really mattered to Pharah though. She was there to serve and protect the people of Cairo, or wherever she happened to be. That sense of purpose was engrained into her mindset as an Amari. It was an honor to carry on her family's legacy, and she could hardly imagine doing anything but.
Pharah arrived at her commander's office and knocked lightly. The commander saw her through the window and motioned her to come in. She came in and saluted before taking a seat in front of the desk of her superior, Commander Mohamma Akhib. The man was smartly dressed in a sandy uniform that bore various medals from his long years in both the Egyptian army, and Helix Security International. His head was bald and tanned just as dark as his square face, which sported old scars from the Omnic Crisis. The most striking part about this man, however, was his clear, blue eyes. It was a rare feature, considering his family genetics.
Right now, Pharah looked right into those intense, blue eyes and awaited her commander's words. He was in the middle of slowly putting down his military cap when Pharah had sat down and given him her attention.
''Fareeha Amari, captain of Helix Squadron, our lead commando unit,'' he addressed her.
''Sir,'' she said, trying not to show her embarrassment at the use of such a long title.
''You've held that position for a little over a year and a half now,'' he stated matter-of-factly.
''Yes, I have, sir.''
''You've held it well. I'm impressed with your record since working here, especially since bing promoted to captain, Captain.''
''Thank you, sir,'' Pharah said, only briefly smiling to acknowledge the compliment any more so.
''Yes, yes, I would say that we get along well and you carry out orders very fine, Amari. You hold your family name to the highest standards.''
Pharah nodded curtly. She had not expected any of this at all.
''And so,'' Mohamma continued, getting up and pressing a button to shade the windows, ''I am proud to offer you this next opportunity, if you decide to accept it.'' Mohamma pulled out a paper file and handed it to Pharah. It was absolutely blank.
''Opportunity?,'' Pharah asked, now confused with what was happening.
''Yes. I'll explain,'' Mohamma said, sitting down. ''What is your standing with Overwatch, Ms. Amari?''
''Well,'' Pharah began, sitting straighter, ''my mother was second-in-command there, they stopped the Omnic Crisis, and they were officially disbanded after the public discovery and investigation of Blackwatch.''
Mohamma shook his head and raised his hand. ''No, no, I mean, what do you think of them? What is your experience with them? You have permission to speak freely, Ms. Amari.''
''Oh.'' Pharah was almost at a loss for words. ''Uhh, my mother let me go with her a few times to visit their base when I was a child. I wanted to join when I was of age, as well as after her death, but I didn't have the right chance before their disbandment. My personal opinion is that they did more good than harm, and I think that they should have been allowed to continue operating under a change in leadership. Why does any of that matter now though?''
''Mhh,'' he said. Instead of answering directly, he bent over and tapped the folder in front of Pharah. ''This was sent to me by an old friend. I should point out that it is unofficial and unrecorded. Open it up.''
Apprehensive, Pharah opened up the folder and pulled out the papers inside. As she scanned over them, she realized that they were formal request sheets for the transfer of herself, Fareeha Amari, to Watchpoint: Gibraltar, a former major Overwatch base.
Pharah was overwhelmed. She put the papers down and rubbed her head. No, the implications couldn't be true. It was something else. Maybe she should read the papers closer or something.
''Commander, I'm confused. Are we in possession of the watchpoint? Is someone else? Am I going to a different division? Could you please just tell me what's going on? I… I don't think that these are correct, sir. They- ''
''Ms. Amari,'' Mohamma interrupted, ''the papers are right. You are being formally asked to join the informal, re-banding of Overwatch at Watchpoint: Gibraltar.''
Pharah blanked out.
Mohomma continued, ''These papers, as well as an explanatory letter, were sent to me by Winston. He's initiated a dormant recall program that has alerted all former agents to the informal regrouping of the organization, and he's recruited some new agents to join as well, which includes you, if you decide to accept, Captain Amari.''
''I… I don't know,'' Pharah stammered.
''Now, your squadron's second-in-command will take over of course, and we'll get another, experienced soldier to fill the hold. Officially, everyone will be informed that you were transferred to a classified location that needed your assistance, and that you will be gone for an indefinite amount of time. You will be allowed to keep your raptora suit and rocket gun and all related articles, and the expenses will be paid by Helix Security, and later Overwatch. We'll provide everything necessary to help you relocate if and when you decide and, if it doesn't work out, you'll be welcome here,'' Mohamma finished.
''Wow,'' Pharah breathed. ''I don't know what to say. Can I… can I think about it?''
''Oh yes, of course, take your time to process it. All the information you need is in the papers, and you can come and talk to me or call whenever you decide. I wouldn't take too long though. The world needs your help.''
*Good morning! (Egyptian Arabic)
Thank you for reading this first chapter of my fan fiction! I have several coming chapters in the works, and I've really fallen in love with writing this.
I'll probably upload every 3 weeks or so, because I also try to keep up with my other story, and the chapters for this take a while to write, but hopefully they wan't take too long. I also have many other artist endeavors that I am busy with, as well as school work, so sorry if I can't get to it.