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April 21, 2073
16:35 GMT
Lyon, France
"Hey." Chameleon nudged his partner awake, "We're here."
Ember stirred as he sat up, then he turned his head to look through the dropship window. The late noon rays blasted painfully across his eyes, forcing him to squint to adjust to the damnable glare of the sun.
They weren't flying through the forests of Belarus anymore, but rather, they've entered the urban jungle landscape that was the city of Lyon, the capital of lights. Skyscrapers, towering statues of iron and bronze, even antiquated architectural wonders that predated the metropolis itself, and streets packed with tourist crowds from all over the world. The last time Ember had been to the city, he was a toddler no bigger than his father's knee, and so far nothing had changed. The city had been spared from the Omnic Crisis, and thus never had to feel the sting of the aftermath that toppled the world powers around it.
Today, it served as one of the few beacons of prosperity left on the planet. For the Fireflies, it would serve as their staging ground for the war against Talon.
"You can see the Basilica of Notre-Dame de Fourvière from here." Chameleon remarked as he shared the view. "A real wonder that it's still standing."
"This city was one of the lucky ones." Ember replied, preparing his bags as he felt the dropship's pace slow to a crawl.
The dropship hovered above the landing zone, just at the edge of the city, and began its descent. The Firefly headquarters was largely situated underground, and there were only a select number of access points for entry, one of which was the massive hangar door built into the ground. Like a mechanical maw, it yawned wide while a circular strip of steel presented itself to serve as the dropship's landing pad. Once they were safely inside, the alarm klaxon blared and the hangar blast doors slid shut over the entrance, enveloping the whole bay in darkness.
The lights switched on, illuminating the hangar. Ember glanced down and noticed Director Wesley waiting for them at the security checkpoint.
"Wesley's here?" Chameleon said as he put on strap of his duffel-bag over his arm. "That can only mean he's gotten us the support of the council. Best news I've heard in a while."
"Hope he's brought some new toys for us to play with." Ember nodded. The Fireflies emerged from the dropship and marched towards the director. As soon as he was close enough, Ember reached out to shake the boss' hand.
"Good to see you, colonel."
"Likewise." Wesley returned the greeting and ushered the two inside, "Welcome to Lyon HQ. Come on, let's get you settled."
"We're good to go for another, should the need arise, sir." Chameleon informed the director.
"I know." Wesley acknowledged. "I don't have a mission for you right now. There will be plenty of action for you even here."
Both Fireflies, due to their enhancements, were able to perform longer than the average human could while showing little signs of fatigue. This made them highly effective at pursuing multiple priorities in a single day, although the problem of being understaffed was nonetheless in dire need of a solution.
"I apologize for the inconvenience, gentlemen." The director said as they stepped through the maze of construction equipment, hurried workers running back and forth through the halls, and scattered mess of tangled lines and pipes. "Much of this place will remain under construction until the end of the month. I assure you, however, it will not hinder our efforts to combat the Talon threat."
"Roger that, colonel." Chameleon nodded.
"Barracks are down that way." Wesley pointed to the darkened corridor with the creepy blinking light further down the hallway that was under construction. "Drop your bags, then follow me. There's some new people I want you both to meet."
They were on double-time, the director didn't need to spell it out for them to know. Ember and Chameleon trotted off and dumped their stuff onto the bunks, then dashed after Wesley as he turned his heel and walked towards the briefing room.
There were two people waiting for Wesley at the briefing room table, a Caucasian man with a shiny clean-shaven head with a bushy beard and a Latino woman with a nasty burn mark across her right cheek. Both wore the Firefly black shirts with the dark orange borders, urban-camo military cargo-pants, and Wes-Tek body-armor. Upon seeing Wesley walk in with the Fireflies, they sat up attentively like students before a schoolmarm.
"Hmm, new recruits!" Chameleon beamed, genuinely excited to have some new people on the team.
"Yes." Wesley gestured for the pairs to come up and meet each other. "Ember, Chameleon. Say hello to Tac-Bang and Hazard."
Callsigns, not real names, were the formal address of Firefly operatives. Officially, the tradition held no real militaristic purpose in most countries. For the Fireflies it was created to respect each individual's unique capabilities and recognize their contributive skills to the initiative, serving as an honorary title to promote team camaraderie.
Norman "Tac-Bang" Cross, for instance, was a member of the British SAS. As a combat engineer, he got the nickname from his incessant use of the phrase 'rack-tack-bang' whenever reloading his weapon. When he faced the ultranationalists in the Nilean War, the fourteen-day battle between Egyptian peacekeepers and fanatical separatists, his team overheard him repeat this phrase with alarming regularity as their enemies brought in more men than their ammunition could take on. Hence, the name stuck, even through his transition into becoming a member of the Firefly Initiative.
Almira "Hazard" Velasquez had once been a member of the UN peacekeeper force that assisted Overwatch in their operations around the globe. Having graduated from medical school prior to her enlistment, Velasquez became a medic and proved invaluable to the cause as she supported her fellow peacekeepers in the thick of the fight as well as patching them up after every engagement. Later, she became part of a short-lived experimental program aimed to deploy armored-mechanized support troops onto the field to answer the growing concern of mounting casualties, a program drawing inspiration from the bygone Crusaders. The program was nonetheless discontinued as resources were reallocated in favor of other projects that were inclined towards more direct methods.
Hazard, however, managed to keep her suit when she left the program.
"Welcome to the Fireflies." Chameleon shook each hand, "I'm called Chameleon, and I look forward to working with you both."
"I'm Ember, your new boss." Ember kept his own greetings short. As team commander, he opted to reserve his eagerness after he'd personally evaluated each new member of the Fireflies. Chameleon's overt extensions of positivity were enough for the both of them, he preferred to see them in action first before making any judgements. "Colonel, have we received any new equipment?" Pragmatic as ever, he wasn't interested with the fanfare as Chameleon was, he just wanted to get back to work.
"We do." Wesley replied, "Now that introductions are out of the way, Tac-Bang, would you kindly show these two to Engineering and walk them through inventory?"
"Will do, sir."
Engineering served as both foundry and arsenal for the Firefly headquarters. Everything they needed for their missions would be constructed on site, and housed securely near the barracks for ease of access. It was among the first to be constructed, besides the hangar and simulation chamber, although most of the weapons shipped from Eurocorp and Tsunami remained locked in their storage containers.
"Right then gents, here's a lil' something Eurocorp's been saving up for the German military." Tac-Bang declared as he rounded the table and hefted a large black guncase on top of it. The rest of the team gathered around to watch his demonstration. "But we're gonna be the first to try 'em out."
The big man popped the seals and lifted out a sleek-barreled, riveted black rifle, measuring a compact three foot long body from stock to barrel. The weapon had a titanium housing with heat dispensing vents, suggesting that the rifle was energy-based and not ballistic. The universally understood glaring red light upon priming confirmed it.
"A laser rifle?" Ember inquired.
"Yup, a weapon fit for a Firefly." Tac-Bang replied, "They call it Sunburster. Operates the same as any ballistic weapon, twice as accurate without sacrificing stopping power, and best of all- no recoil. These will be your standard weapons of choice, director's orders. We're transitioning to energy-based weaponry from here on out."
He handed the weapon to Ember, who received the weapon with a nasty grin. He held the rifle firmly and pushed the stock onto his shoulder, taking a moment to get a feel of the weapon before deciding that he liked it.
"Next, you're gonna be using these as secondary weapons." Tac-Bang brought out the pistol versions of the Sunburster rifle. "Trust me, it's a lot quicker than reloading."
"When you're not me." He added with a hearty laugh.
As Ember and Chameleon paused to check on their guns, Tac-Bang called the woman up. He tapped at a massive, cross-bow shaped cannon that looked like it would better fit on a IFV's turret than in a soldier's hands. "Hazard, this one's going into your rig."
"What is it?" Hazard ran a gloved hand over the surface of the cannon.
"Arc-Thrower, fires controlled bursts of localized, energy-infused magnetic fields." Tac-Bang explained. "Works best against mechanized or cybernetic systems, but just as well, fries the living hell out of organic tissue."
"Very nice." Hazard nodded, "Do I get to test it out first?"
"Course." Tac-Bang shrugged, "We're all going to be training on these weapons for the next few weeks. That is, until some Talon cell out there rears its head, begging for us to cut it off. Ready or not, we're stuck with these, might as well work on getting used to them."
"I, for one, would like to get started." Ember declared, planning on hitting the simulation room soon after he finished stowing away his stuff at the barracks.
He needn't spell it out for the team, they were all professionals who knew how the enemy operated. The Firefly Initiative relied on intelligence gathering before making a move on Talon's operating cells, and such a process took both considerable time and resources. Their job was to be ready, for anything, and it was Ember's job to make sure that they would be when trouble rounds the corner.
April 21, 2073
19:00 GMT
Rome, Italy
It was Natale di Roma, Rome's Birthday, and the city was alight with celebration.
Tourists and locals alike flocked to the streets in droves, to see the parade of gladiators march towards their performance at the Circus Maximus. Concerts at the Piazza del Campidoglio for the pop culture enthusiasts, and a fireworks display over the River Tiber for those with a more traditional taste. The people were happy, distracted from the ugliness of the world around them as they participated in the glorious event. It was as if the looming threat of war wasn't even registering on their minds.
For Anton Trevisani, the ignorance of the masses was nothing short of amusing.
Seated comfortably in the back seat of the car, Trevisani, a member of Talon's Inner Council, went about his business as his driver expertly weaved his way through the crowded streets towards their destination. He held a datapad in his hands and was casually skimming through the after-action reports of various Talon cells scattered across the globe. It had been one of the most rewarding weeks for their organization, and the man was undoubtedly pleased with such a fortuitous turn of events.
The car veered off the main street and entered the gates of the Refugio Romana, a huge mansion sitting on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Tiber. This massive domestic architecture, that outwardly displayed a nature of antiquity that would easily fool the average tourist, masked a more sinister nature. Inside the Refugio, extending deep within the earth, was a sprawling network of underground facilities and storage complexes. Here, the brightest minds untethered by morality worked ceaselessly to forge the organizations war machines. Here, their soldiers honed their craft so they would be able to better carry out their operations against the nations of the world.
Overwatch wasn't around to stop them anymore. Life was good, and business was booming.
"Take the rest of the night off, Edwal." Trevisani told his driver, "I won't be leaving any time soon."
"Thank you sir." The man replied with a nonchalance similar to an omnic.
Trevisani emerged from the car and walked through the mansion's ivory doors. Two Talon guards soundly stomped their feet as they stood at attention, throwing their leader a brisk salute as he walked past. The man's shoes tapped noisily across the marble floor, and they echoed as the noise reverberated across the wide and spacious rooms filled with various trophies and decorative accoutrements.
He stepped into the elevator and descended to the bottom levels of the hidden facilities, feeling eager to survey the latest developments in their research programs.
"Mr. Trevisani, good evening." Dr. Katrina Oberholster, one of Rome HQ's lead scientists on bio-modifications, approached the councilman as he exited the elevator. She quickly fell in step with Trevisani as he headed for the Proving Grounds, the chambers in which Talon's living weapons were kept. "Might I-"
"Dr. Oberholster." Trevisani interrupted her in mid-sentence, "I'm not interested in hearing anything save for your answer to this specific question. Is the weapon ready?"
The doctor proudly smiled after overcoming her flustered reaction to her superior's abrupt reply, "Yes. Yes she is." She gestured for the doors of the Proving Grounds, "Shall we?"
The pair entered the observation booth overlooking a large chamber with black walls and floors, illuminated only by a circular light disk built into the ceiling. In the middle of the room was a woman clad only in a form-fitting sports bra and shorts, busying herself through various exercises that looked like a mixture of ballet stretching exercises and yoga.
Trevisani arched a brow as he stood there, transfixed by the sight.
The woman's skin was inhumanly blue, like the waters of the Tiber River, with a certain purplish hue mixed in. Her dark hair, so tightly fixed into a modest ponytail, flowed gracefully as she spun around on the floor. She was very beautiful, practically oozing elegance and sophistication.
But overall, lacking warmth. As her eyes stared out unseeing into the cameras that followed her every move, her every expression, Trevisani could see only the cold calculating eyes of a predator.
"Who is she?" He found himself muttering.
"That is Weapon Number 175, sir." Dr. Oberholster read the data pulled out from the woman's file. "Our most successful sleeper agent, activated five years ago when-"
"No, I meant who is she? Her real name."
"Ah, she is Amélie Lacroix. Wife of Gérard Lacroix."
"That's her? That's Amélie Lacroix?" Trevisani's eyes sparkled with sinister glee, "What...what did you do to her?"
"I'm glad you asked, sir." The woman pulled up every file, research credit and report pertaining to Weapon 175's transformation. "It was difficult to recall 175 to homebase as she exhibited trace amounts of lingering...apprehensions concerning her activation. However, we did manage to retrieve her following her husband's neutralization. Tough nut to crack, but we were successful in ensuring her loyalty to Talon remains undisputed."
She showed Trevisani a file entitled "Project Latrodectus" which contained images of a peculiarly shaped device that resembled a thin-bodied spider with an elongated tail, inserted snugly in between a brain's longitudinal fissure, which was the thin line running in between the two hemispheres. The tail itself extended down the curvature of the occipital lobe at the back of the subject's head until its tip hooked onto the brain stem, which controls the body's blood pressure and heartrate.
"The Latrodectus Inhibitor, if I don't say so myself, is one of our finest works. It combines Dufour's revolutionary research on nanotech-constructs and our own developments into neuro-modification. The work of manipulating the mind of an individual is a tricky process, but thanks to the nanomachines, we discovered a non-invasive process that could seamlessly interact with the individual's cerebral cortex. In short- it allows us to gain full access to a person's thoughts, their memories, their very consciousness."
"So you're saying..." Trevisani took a minute to digest this information, "You were able rewrite her entire personality?"
"Yes sir, that we did." Oberholster said with a grin.
"Remarkable." The councilman handed her pad back, "But what about her skin, is that a side effect of some sort?"
"Why no, sir. It was part of 175's specialization, as a Talon sniper operative. We decided to alter her body's physiology in order to better suit her unique tasks as well as...improve her flexibility as an assassin. Her slowed heartrate enables her to perform exceptionally well as a sniper, and even better as low-temperature environments have no adverse effects on her. It should be noted that she also is immune to most chemical exposures that would usually prove fatal."
Trevisani stroked his chin, visibly growing interested with each revelation. "I have to see this for myself."
The pair exited the booth and entered the chamber where Weapon 175 was interred in. Upon seeing her superiors approach, the blue-skinned woman stood at attention and awaited their evaluation.
Standing that close to her, Trevisani couldn't help but admire the late Gérard Lacroix's taste in women. His hungry eyes took in Amélie's fine, toned body and unblemished face. Traveling further down, he spied the tattoos that adorned her back and right arm. One was of the black widow, its legs spread elegantly across her skin until they touched her shoulders, moving as though alive with every breath she took. The other were the words "araignée du soir, cauchemar" written within a black web wrapped around her forearm.
"What are those supposed to be?" Trevisani asked the doctor, frowning slightly as clearly did not approve of what he saw as unnecessary accessories.
"We wanted to encourage some level of individuality within 175." Oberholster replied, "Just a modicum, to allow for some creative element to influence her decision making when on the field."
"Hmm... I see." He turned to the blue-skinned woman and prodded, "Who are you?"
"Weapon Number 175, Talon Operative." She responded with a monotonous but disarmingly sweet voice.
"What is your purpose here?"
Weapon 175 readily replied, her eyes unblinking as she recited the mantra playing over and over in her head. "To serve Talon and eliminate all its enemies."
Trevisani smirked, finding great pleasure in hearing that the woman knew her place. He turned to Dr. Oberholster, "I like this one. How soon can she be made mission-ready?"
"Tonight, Mr. Trevisani." The doctor said with a sly grin, "Tonight."
Dr. Oberholster led the way to the facility foundries, where Weapon 175's equipment was waiting to be claimed by its new operator. There, 175 stepped onto an arming platform and waited for the attending staff to bring along her gear.
A purple and silver body suit with a deep v-cut, with some knee-high combat boots were brought forward. Weapon 175, knowing full well that all eyes were on her but nevertheless showing little apprehension for her superiors, stripped herself naked and put her new suit on. All the while, Trevisani watched wide-eyed at such dangerous perfection.
"Beautiful. So fucking beautiful." He breathed.
"Oh, I almost forgot." The doctor reached for a small case and opened it, showing 175 a cybernetic headpiece that looked like the face of a spider. "A little something to help you in your endeavors, 175."
"Thank you." The living weapon replied nonchalantly, donning the headpiece like a crown.
An attendant hefted a large custom sniper rifle and handed it over to the operative, who received it with little difficulty, showing a firm grip and a strength in her arms that belied their girth.
At that moment, Trevisani had an epiphany. "Weapon 175."
"Yes sir."
"From now on, your designation won't be just a number. That seems...below your standard." He paused for a moment, then added. "Your designation is now Widowmaker."
"Yes sir." Widowmaker acknowledged, "How can I serve?"
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