Once again I delve deep into my mind to find out what new story I'll spend most of my time thinking and theorizing about. I want this story to be a little more dark than my other ones, at least in an inventive way. I always thought the struggle between omnics and humans was an under appreciated topic in the Overwatch universe. It raises serious questions about the future of humanity, and how far we can advance before we lose sight of what we once were. Almost like the tale of Icarus in a way, a story I'd like to base some of the future themes of this story off of. Anyways, let's get back to it, and I hope you all enjoy reading this first chapter! Be sure to tell me what you think about it!
Chapter 1: Oily Shadows
The thunder of the engines in our aircraft roared to life, launching us forward through the skies, every agent around me nearly toppling over in their seats as they were propelled backwards. I smirked, not exactly against seeing them in pain as they stumbled back into their seats. I was prepared for it, having gripped my seat beforehand, holding onto it tight enough to break an ordinary person's arm straight in half. It endured. So did I. I couldn't quite tell if it was sad to know I had more in common with a seat than the people around me. I also couldn't tell if that was a bad thing or not.
My eyes scanned the people around me, watching as they either purposely met or avoided my gaze. I suppose I wasn't exactly the most cuddly looking man in the world. The others who met my eyes stared at me, furrowing their brows as they analyzed every part of me, struggling to piece together which part was human and which wasn't. I didn't mind. In fact, I welcomed it. I enjoyed challenging the agents around me, both physically and mentally. Though they rarely allowed me to train with them, either out of fear or prejudice. The ignorance of those around me here at Talon never ceases to amaze me. I guess I'm not exactly looking in high places, but still, it'd be nice to finally meet someone who could match my own intellect, or one when in an argument wouldn't resort to petty comments or false statements about how "human" I am. The word "clank" has practically become my name around base, rather than my actual name, Scott Gallagher. How they loved to remind me how artificial I was. And oh how I loved to remind them who was superior to them in every single way. I suppose it wasn't the worst thing I've been called in my life. "Clank." The word danced along my tongue, as I slowly realized I said it out loud, gaining the attention of the others.
The man across from me sneered, scar stretching upwards as he grinned in amusement. "Your sockets shortin' out? Need me to find an outlet?" The others laughed at his remark, as my mechanical hands subconsciously clenched into fists, the familiar hiss of the locks on my arm releasing as I sighed. "Lucky for you I'm gonna ignore that comment." I replied to the Brit, staring him down. His smile dissipated, turning into a scowl. "Ooh. Real scary. Gonna go mad on us like the omnics in the crisis?"
Once again, people associated me with the omnics, which was false. I was still over seventy percent flesh and bone, with tubes and titanium metal holding me together. I was a personal project of the Irish "doctor" Moira O'Deorain and her coworkers at Talon. They saved my life. From the tales she told me out of pity, I could piece together what little she told me of my origin. I was a former SWAT specialist before being nearly killed in an explosion set off by Overwatch over seven months ago. My arms were blasted off in the explosion, and my legs were severely burned. I earned a scar that went along the edge of my jawline, looking like two claws dug deep into my skin, causing my sharp beard to be unsymmetrical. Near the top of the left side of my head were two small pieces of black titanium interwoven with my skull. Moira had told me that shrapnel was lodged into my skull, with no flesh left to be stitched back up. They replaced it with metal, although it was noticeable when you got close to me how fake it was. Although Talon and it's higher ups were not concerned with my handsome face and ability to woo the ladies. They wanted a weapon, and they got one. They spent millions of dollars on bringing me back to the land of the living, though not completely intact. My arms were replaced with pure black titanium that ran to my sternum, along with implants near the edge of my eyebrows allowing me to see through smoke, walls, or any type of barrier. Without them, I'd be nearly blind, since shards from the explosion cut through both of my pupils, leaving them damaged. They were replaced with mechanical ones, with white lenses that could zoom in and out as I analyzed things around me, almost like a camera.
The room quieted down as I growled, my left forearm retracting inwards on itself, then replacing the limb with a sharp blade, the length of my arm. If I wanted to, I could've killed him, but luckily enough for him I learned restraint. Stopping the blade just before it penetrated his shoulder, I frowned. "Well if I do Duncan, I can guarantee you you'd never see it coming." My gruff voice met the air, breaking the silence. The threat seemed to cause him to back away, offering a slight nod of acknowledgement.
"Agent Gallagher! Am I gonna have a problem with you?" I heard the easily recognizable snarl of Reaper come from my right, as I recalled the blade back into it's original position, my artificial limb taking it's place once more. I turned to the shadowy figure, watching as short, black tendrils of smoke rose from his pointed shoulders as if he fumed in anger and rage. My eyes scanned him, noticing his faint heartbeat, HUD displaying the freezing temperature of his skin. His skull mask hid his appearance, though not his identity, as I had read up on his files. No mask or hood would prevent me from knowing, as much as that probably angered him. He crossed his arms, claw-like gloves meeting his biceps. His cloak flapped behind him as he huffed. "Not at all sir." I answered quickly.
I didn't call him by his actual name, Gabriel Reyes, preferring to keep it on a strictly professional level. As much as he probably doubted it, I did respect him and his privacy. What happened to him wasn't exactly the greatest of things. After all the years he'd spent with Overwatch, leading the strike team, only to be cast aside for Morrison and his pretty smile. It couldn't be easy. I nearly pitied the man and his tragic past, relating to him on a few levels. I had read many reports on Overwatch and it's fall from grace. It was once the pride of the entire world, responsible for ending the Omnic Crisis, and keeping peace between the nations. But after years of scandals and corruption being exposed to the public, along with the explosion in the Swiss Base that killed both Strike Commander Morrison and many other agents. Overwatch's time in the sun came to an end, being shut down and any Overwatch activity being deemed illegal by the UN. That is what allowed Talon to rise like it has, allowing our plans to come to fruition. Moira had told me stories of her time in Overwatch and how they saw her experiments as dangerous and cruel, along with her admitting to having tested on herself. I suppose she got her revenge watching Overwatch fall like it did. Reaper was much less comfortable speaking about the organization, preferring solitary and quiet to relax. I usually kept to myself, much like him.
"Good. I've seen what you can do, and I intend to make full use of your skills." Reaper replied. His attention turned to the other Talon agents as they readied their gear, their black armor shining under the lights of the aircraft. "Listen up! We've got a tornado on it's way, so we can't afford to make mistakes. We need to get in, neutralize the targets, and get out. This one should be quick. They won't be expecting us, and Scott will be sent in first to short out the power, giving us a chance to slip in and take them out. They're ex-Overwatch scientists, who hold data Dr. O'Deorain requires to complete her projects. We need to destroy all evidence of their work, and destroy all the information tying us to them. No mercy." He explained to us all, as I prepared myself for lethal encounters. Running a hand through my short black hair, my enhanced eyesight allowed me to see my reflection in the window clearly, despite the heavy rainfall. My hair could use a cut. The sides were mostly shaved, leaving the top long as it fell down to one side. I scratched at my chin, feeling the cold metal of my fingers meet my coarse, sharp facial hair.
"Our main priority, is this man here." Reaper began once more, using the monitor on the screen in front of us to zoom and enhance the photo of him. He was bald, with a sharp nose, and glasses that rested over his small brown eyes. He should be easy to spot. Even easier to eliminate. "He's ex-Overwatch, having been one of their most accomplished scientists. Rumor has it he's planning to expose our plans and connections to multiple corporations, along with our base locations. He's been trying to find us for years. That ends now." He swiped once more, a photo of a base with exposed holes in the roofs and damage to the infrastructure. "This is the base we're attacking, an unfinished, and poorly protected resting ground for the scientists. It's construction was never finished ever since the omnics destroyed most of it, leaving it abandoned until now. Inside, it's not a pretty picture."
"Let me guess, the place was filled to the brim with high tech security omnics, and when shit went down, and they all went schizo the place got gruesome real fast." Duncan spoke up, turning his attention to me as he said it. I returned it with a disapproving glare. Once again, people blamed me or other omnics for the crisis. It was a tragedy out of everyone's hands, yet people insisted to have a scapegoat, and the blame shifted to omnics, and unlucky people like me who've been augmented. For some reason, people believe any kind of artificial enhancement automatically makes the person untrustworthy. As much as I tried to prove their superstitions false, they always found a way to blame me when things went wrong.
"Duncan, since you're so quick to interrupt me and jump on Scott, you'll be heading down there as well. We could use it anyway. Both of you will clear out either side of the base, taking out any straggling guards along the way. Meet up, and let us know when it's clear to enter." Reaper snapped at him, causing Duncan to groan. "Aww come on, it won't be too bad. It's like a date." I mocked him, as he scowled, loading his gun. "In your dreams Clank." He retorted, as I snickered.
"Agent Gallagher, ready up. You're cleared to drop whenever you're good. Keep the others and I updated. Shut the power off, and we'll do the rest." Reaper told me, offering me a short nod. I returned it, standing up.
Tapping my implants that went along my dark eyebrows, I allowed my HUD to scan for any life below me as the hatch opened, the cold air hitting me. I placed a hand out, watching as the rain trickled down my mechanical hand, balling my hand into a fist, before opening once more. Just as responsive as always. 'They spared no expense on me.' I thought.
With one final inhale, I spread my arms out, and dove headfirst into the water below, watching as the waves crashed against the base we needed to infiltrate. It towered above the water, built like a small island as the rain poured outside. The wind brushed through my hair as I descended rapidly. I watched as I passed the rain, falling at a faster rate than the precipitation as I zipped into the water. Upon impact, the rebreather implanted into my lungs during the operation that saved my life began to supply my body with the oxygen necessary to continue breathing as I swam upwards, going against the current of the oceans that tried to drag me away. Lightning struck near the base, thunder cracking the sky with a boom, echoing through the heavens as I ascended one of the legs that kept the base above water.
Arriving at the top, I wasted no time scanning for any signs of life. Two men, Caucasian, young age, healthy, heartbeat going at an average pace. I skimmed through the information I could gather just by looking at them and using my enhancements. I watched as they walked around, patrolling the area, much to the dismay of one of them. I kept quiet, following them as they chatted with one another. Noticing a slight hesitation in one of the man's steps, I analyzed him, watching him limp slightly. He had just undergone surgery around a month ago judging by his movements, still getting used to it. I didn't bother giving either of them a chance to react, cracking his leg with a swift kick, slashing his throat with my blade as he dropped to his knees. Snapping around to the second man, I slammed both blades deep into his sternum, before kicking him off the base and into the rushing waters below.
Releasing a sigh, I continued moving forward. "Duncan, how's it going on your end?" I asked, and I heard him grunt, along with the snap of someone's bone. "Fine. The only problem is," he sighed, clearly frustrated with something. "I can't bloody get past this door. Hacking never has been my strong suit." He admitted, and I chuckled in response. "You should be good at it. Lots of colors and shapes. Just remember red is bad."
"Fuck you mate." I heard him huff back through the communication device, and I smiled. Those were the moments I lived for at this place. I wasn't exactly enthusiastic about our mission here in Talon or our big plan for strengthening the world and the people around us through conflict. Moira and the others could probably tell. But I did enjoy messing with the others. It's probably the only thing that keeps me human anymore these days.
The rest of my objective went smoothly, with little to no resistance from the guards. They were more of an annoying distraction rather than actual obstacles to get past. Easily disposable. Although I preferred a non-lethal approach to conflict, my orders were clear. We couldn't take any chances. As much as others here in Talon might disagree, I do try and be a pacifist, and would be more comfortable sneaking by people than killing them. But I suppose my thoughts and morals weren't taken into consideration when they rebuilt me. A weapon is what I'll always be. I'm barely even human anymore.
When I found Duncan's unhappy frown once more, I radioed in to Reaper, letting him know they should get ready to land. Once I did that, I hacked into the base's mainframe, using a few tips and pointers from Sombra, along with my prior knowledge from training. Sombra, although I knew little about her since her records and files have been practically wiped clean, presumably by her, I still considered a friend. Someone I could at least have a chat with. She was smart, knew her way around a computer, and her tongue was just as sharp as her mind, as if every word and action was deliberately manufactured and calculated to get under your skin. Although she just seemed like a woman with a quirk for hacking, she had ambitions, and her mind was set on something bigger than all of us.
Snapping back to reality, the crackle of thunder above us caused me to focus back up on what I was doing. I finally finished, watching as the lights above and inside the base went out simultaneously, and I smirked, satisfied with my work. "Reaper, your team is good to go. Duncan and I are headed in to pick up any stragglers. Good hunting." I informed him, as I heard him release a grunt of acknowledgement. "Nice work. Seems like you're Moira's favorite toy for a reason."
I couldn't quite place why that comment bothered me, but it did. Perhaps it was because it simply made me seem like some tool, used and disposed of accordingly. I suppose I sort of was to Talon. They poured millions of dollars and resources into me to use me. They wouldn't have saved me if they wanted another mediocre agent. I was the future of humanity. I was the "next stage in evolution" to Dr. O'Deorain. My flesh and tissues had fully integrated with the high tech in my body, keeping my heart pumping and organs working. Without technology I'd be dead. I should be happy about it. I was superior to everyone around me. The machine and I were one. I could calculate a million equations in a few seconds. I can punch through a brick wall. I'm nearly unstoppable. But deep down, I felt like something held me back. Like I was being kept in the dark. That I was some hunk of metal rather than human. I could feel something wrong with me, but I kept that to myself. There was no need to worry the others. It was probably my mind still adjusting to the augmentations I received over seven months ago after the explosion. The body is strong, and will recover. But sometimes the mind isn't so resilient.
My mind once again focused back on the mission as Duncan and I dropped down after the shouting and gunshots had ceased. Reaper and his team were efficient, that was clear. Bodies of the scientists lied strewn about, blood covering the white and sterile walls of the lab. Their equipment was being sabotaged at the moment, with agents crushing the computers and holovids under their heels. The scientists had barely put up a fight. The mission was all but confirmed to be a major success for Talon.
I shifted through the rubble, someone's raspy breathing catching my ears. They were crushed under debris because of the explosion. I scanned under the rubble, finding a man barely alive. I listened intently as his breathing hitched, a sharp pain running through him. He twitched, and I leaned down, picking him up out of it. His ribs were broken, shards of glass in his lungs, along with broken glasses. Sharp nose. Small brown eyes. Bald. The target was in my hands.
My hand retracted back into a blade once more tonight, as I prepared to plunge the pure titanium deep into his heart, ending his misery. I stopped when he sputtered a few words, catching my attention. "S-Scott? I...I remember y..y-you. You're...you were Megan's fiancé. We...we met before...what happened to you..." He muttered, barely able to speak. His heart was beginning to slow. He was dying. I needed to hear him. He said he recognized me. I never knew my origin. I never knew where I came from. My life before I became what I am today.
"I-I thought you died in that explosion. M-Megan...she...she didn't..." He coughed, blood coming up along with it. "She didn't what? She didn't what?!" I demanded, holding his neck tight enough to snap it. I had never wondered about where I came from in my months spent working for Talon. I always accepted the stories Moira told me. The others kept it a secret from me. My higher ups refused to enlighten me. But now, with this old man dying in my hands, I couldn't help but demand answers. I had so many questions that only now popped into my head. It was as if I'd been brainwashed to forget about my life. My curiosity had been stripped of me. But now here I was, staring down the only man willing to answer me. My grip on his throat loosened as I noticed his body stop moving, his eyes going blank. I scanned for his heartbeat, finding none. He was gone.
Who was Megan? Fiancé? How did he know me? Who really caused the explosion that made me what I am? Was it actually Overwatch? Was it someone else entirely? Had Moira been lying to me the whole time? Or was this man lying to me, in a delirious state muttering words that came to mind that held no relevance to what was happening? I felt my augmentations become overwhelmed, multiple errors flashing in bold red letters as I felt like my mind would shatter. I needed to know what happened. I needed to know...who I was. Who I am. My nose was filled with oddly familiar but at the same time foreign scents as I flashed back to a time I didn't know existed. I felt so many sensations at once, as the touch of a lover met my cheek, along with a woman's laughter, lips brushing against mine, soft whispers between a woman and myself, a proposal, the feeling of someone's body against mine, the warmth of my fingers running along another's hand, the smiles of recruits in SWAT that felt oddly comforting despite my lack of knowledge of who they were. I began to smile, before the entire vision began to reverse on itself, the woman in front of me disappearing, my flesh turning back into the metal it was now, as I felt the burning pain of fire consume me, pieces of shrapnel piercing my skull. A woman released a final shriek of terror, reaching out to me as she was dragged away from me before a gun was fired, silencing the memory. The last thing I saw was Moira and others smiling down on me as robotic limbs from above began to make incisions into my chest, connecting bone and metal as I screamed in agony, thrashing around in tremendous pain.
When I realized what I had done, it was too late, my blade having cut the man clean in half, his intestines dangling below him as I kept his body suspended with an arm, his neck broken from the pressure I placed on his fragile bones. Dropping him, I couldn't help but watch as my right arm began to tremble, hand clenched into a fist. "I think you got him." Reaper muttered in amusement, placing a hand on my shoulder, walking past me, joining the others. That left me, as I stared blankly at the man who spoke so little, but left such a big impact on my mind. I was left in shambles, thinking of the life I had before, and what could've been. Shaking my head, I turned my HUD off, allowing myself to calm down and ignore the problems with my augmentations for the moment. Moira would fix this. She'd explain it all. I'd ask every question I have, and receive answers. This didn't matter. I was just a machine anyways. What really did remain of my humanity? What else did I lose besides some limbs and tissues Talon deemed unnecessary? Hopefully, I'll finally get some answers.