Widowmaker

It was finally time.

She couldn't wait a second longer.

The noise from a crowd of peacemakers only served to solidify the moment Widowmaker sought. She was high on the roofs of King's Row, looking down upon her canvas. The mission's details were engraved in her memory. The setting was precisely as it should be. A night sky, illuminated by thousands of lights that dulled even the brightest star. King's Row was serving as the gathering place for Tekhartha Mondatta's speech. He would vie for equal relations between omnics and humans. He would make his plea. It would be the epitome of foolhardiness.

If Widow barely felt anything, how could mere machines?

It ultimately didn't concern her. All that mattered was the kill. Her heart had been slowed artificially, but even now it showed signs of elation. Nothing compared to the anticipation; nothing but the moment Widow knew her target was dead with a single, perfect shot.

This speech was important. It would shape the future of humanity's interactions with omnics for years to come. Thus, Talon had to stop it, for the human race would never become stronger through love. Conflict is what promoted evolution. It was the ideal process.

But Widowmaker truly didn't care. She located a single guard. He was stationed quite far from the target's location. They were being cautious. Admirable, but ultimately pointless.

Widowmaker exhaled shakily, full of anticipation, and began, springing from her location and leaving little for the guard to contemplate prior to his consciousness being reduced to darkness. Widow completely overwhelmed him in only a couple of well-placed hits. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking it all in with a pause atop her playground. She would spin her web about all of these buildings, drawing her prey and consuming them with little more than a blinking thought.

As Widowmaker moved into position, the crowd's low hum rose in support, Mondatta's speech beginning.

"Human. Machine. We are all one within the Iris."

The cheering exploded in delight, and Widow could only roll her eyes. Simpletons. If that's all it took to raise their spirits, they were hollower than Widowmaker herself. At least she had a brain. She could think for herself…

Something stabbed at her temple, and Widowmaker winced, spotting another guard. She shot her grappling hook straight across his face, taking the split second the man was caught off guard to back hand him into delirium, choke him to the ground, and knock him totally out cold with the butt of her sniper rifle.

A shiver. She was only getting started. Widowmaker allowed a smirk, moving methodically and reflecting her namesake further with the way she entangled her slender, flawlessly shaped leg with her hook's wire. Another breath, delaying the end of this wonderful event, and she descended, sliding lower in between two buildings upside down. She clicked her multi-faceted visor into place, her gun morphing into its advanced settings to provide the optimal line of sight and aim. Her breathing practically stopped, as she was groomed to do in this moment, and Widow adjusted her shot, Mondatta's head between her crosshairs with less than a 1% chance of error.

This was it.

It was too easy.

She didn't want it to be over already.

When would her next mission be? How long would she wait in her quarters? Why was her temple still throbbing? The future meant nothing to Widow, yet it remained a point of reference as her feelings swelled in desire of this kill.

He wouldn't even know what hit him. Foolish omnic. Pretending to feel something. Playing at living.

Widow's top left eye in her visor began blinking, and when the multi-visual monitors opened, a blur of light passed through each of the windows within seconds. She would delay the climax after all. Was it a blessing or a curse?

The Tracer girl appeared again. It was just like last time. The mission was almost complete, and she showed up precisely in the nick of time. Widow changed gears without missing a beat, springing off the wall and navigating the air with pristine elegance, firing off her gun in assault mode as both she and Tracer danced midair, truly exemplifying their inhuman abilities as first-rate fighters from their respective organizations.

Widowmaker's heart soared alongside her body, and she crashed through a window, regaining a visual of her attacker before the girl appeared, smiling like the imbecile she was and spouting off more drivel.

'Trying to crash another party, Luv? Hah!'

Her eyes. Her eyes were so bright Widow almost had to squint. Her expression was full of life. Her lips moved with such joy despite the circumstances. This girl…irritated Widow. It was an emotion she barely even understood anymore, but ever since the museum incident, this Overwatch agent was difficult to forget. She was happy. Something more than the kill drove her, and Widow couldn't comprehend it whatsoever. The irritation was growing. It was festering. It made Widow's temple pulsate more distractingly.

The fight initiated once again, and Widow attempted to harvest her soul's desire to feel something as she grappled up and through the building she had infiltrated, spinning as her hook pulled her toward the ceiling and firing erratically, not truly aiming, but simply swatting at the fly that would defy her mentally. Tracer was extraordinarily fast. The documents Widow had reviewed following the museum mission's failure outlined the girl's ability to manipulate time. She was a difficult opponent…which would only make the kill all the more gratifying.

Widow made it to the roofs of the old city in King's Row, and once Tracer reappeared, she entrapped her in a volley of shots. Again, Widow didn't bother to aim precisely. This was too enjoyable. Mondatta could wait. The mission could wait. This life and death struggle? It's all Widowmaker had anymore.

It was time to play with dinner. Could Tracer keep up?

Widow continued her barrage of bullets, backing up to the edge of the roof. She leapt, feeling the air rushing through her hair and skin. The city was now her home. It was her web. She grappled high, releasing the latch to capture the momentum building as she was thrust upward, spinning in the air and crushing another guard's face as she landed upon the next building.

This was it…

His partner had more of a chance, but even while firing away like the pathetic fool he was, Widow easily slid beneath him, swipe-kicking his legs from under him and proceeding into a low dash away from the anticipated rounds of fire that followed.

Ah. Yes. This was what she wanted…

Widow bounded across scarce pieces of infrastructure, her elegance and precision uncanny and impossible to hit lest these mere grunts had much more than an average man's aiming capability.

They did not.

Again, she was in the air, knees practically next to her ears as she caught sight of the man beneath her. Widow wanted to photograph this moment with her mind. His mouth was slightly agape. His eyes confused and in a near-panic. He knew his face was about to be crushed under Widow's heels. She wouldn't disappoint.

Widow felt the crunch of his head between her feet and the ground, but he had partners, and thus, she could revel in it no more. Her acrobatic skill was put on display for the friends, both of which were easily shot down. The final individual wasn't hit in a terribly vital spot, however, but that just meant Widow had the excuse she needed to kick him completely out cold, the crunch from his neck snapping as she punted him sending a chill through the woman's spine. Three more shots to close down any pursuers, and Widow turned, her visor snapping back down into place only to find her target on the move.

Perfect. Perfect. It couldn't be more perfect. A challenge. She could feel it…

Widow turned and felt her lips twitch. She was back. Let the game go on. Time for round two, and Widow, unfortunately, didn't have much more time to play around. She leapt from building to building, knowing Tracer was beyond any of the men Widow had taken out with such extreme ease. As she rolled upon landing a particularly long jump, Widow released a venom mine from her gauntlet, wondering how her little fly would deal with her lungs being filled with such toxic matter courtesy of Talon's personal genius doctor.

Tracer didn't even see it coming. As she passed by Widow's trap, she was instantly coughing and stumbling, tumbling to the ground while attempting to hack out the foreign matter that had forced its way into her precious little body. Widow could have turned and ended Mondatta right then and there, but she paused, feeling something akin to melancholy at the thought of her game being over.

More. She needed more…

Widow stalked over to Tracer, placing her foot upon her shoulder and readying her rifle right next to the girl's face. The irritation returned. Her temple snapped. Her eye twitched. If Tracer was capable of what Widow had read, then it was time to tempt fate.

'Such a sweet, foolish girl.' Widow heard her own accented voice comment, leering down upon the same girl and wondering if this truly was all she had to offer. But in another second, Tracer's body glowed a pale blue and she disappeared, reappearing midair and firing at Widow with that ridiculous smile and peppy tone.

'What's that?'

Widow had to admit, the scope of her opponent's unique power was impressive, and it made her mind hesitate for too long. She evaded Tracer's shots easily enough, but the younger girl proved not to be a complete imbecile, her bullets hitting a gas pipe that obscured Widow's vision temporarily.

Good. Struggle. It was what she desired.

Widow heard Tracer grunt, and although her vision was still compromised, she caught sight of a beeping projectile just in time to shoot it a couple of metres before it could've ended her right then and there. It was the first shot Widow made the whole night that she actually took aim and used her godly skills to perform as needed. Her heart skipped, and her eyes widened in delight. The explosion knocked Tracer back and over the side of the building.

This was it!

Widow followed after her opponent, falling in the air with her sniper rifle shouldered and naked eyes performing all the work she needed to land this next shot. She couldn't have planned it better if she had tried. Tracer wasn't smiling anymore. She wasn't giggling anymore. Her comedic eyes understood her predicament too well. Widow didn't miss when she put her mind to it. At this range, there wasn't a single percentile chance of error. The shining, pale blue orb on the girl's chest was the main source of her power and life, from what Talon conjectured. If Widow aimed for that, it was checkmate.

But she could dodge this, couldn't she?

Widow clenched her finger down and felt the orgasmic sensation of her conclusive bullet being ejected from her. As predicted, Tracer evaded, reversing time yet again and opening the space up for Widow's bullet to fly straight into the crowd. She wanted to slow time, if she could. Every time, she wanted to stop the sand from slipping through her unfeeling hands.

The bullet pierced through the air, splitting the space it occupied, and less than a second later, Mondatta's head snapped back and he flew to the ground, the lights upon his forehead flashing for but a moment prior to his charade of an existence ending.

Widow landed, her legs modified to absorb such intense impact, and she was gifted with yet another sight: Tracer flashing about in utter confusion, feeling her body frantically as if in disbelief that Widow had actually missed.

But Widow hadn't missed. The second shot she truly wished to make of the night was the last.

'Looks like the "party" is over.' Widow smirked, referencing the child's quip from earlier. The vision of Tracer putting the pieces together was too much. Chills ran Widow's body, and she knew she had made the right decision in releasing her fly from the web.

'No…' Tracer breathed, leaping to the edge of the building and taking it all in. 'No…! No, no, no, no!'

Oh. It was almost too much…

She wasn't even close to giggling now. They were beginning to reflect one another just a little better. Tracer was furious, and Widow embraced her fury, allowing her to tackle her to the ground, grappling with her as they slid across the building, bodies entangled and souls dancing to a very different tune. Widow simply stared as the little girl slammed her into the ground, her head hanging over the roof. She hadn't even noticed Widow had latched her hook onto the side of the building during their scuffle.

Yes. Yes. Yes…

'Why!?' Tracer screamed, and something pinched Widow's brain. Tracer's eyes were filling with water. This was a new form of irritation. Crying? How did one cry exactly?

'Why would you do this?'

Raw emotion. True emotion. Pain. Fear. Sadness. Despair. Anger. Frustration. Regret.

Widow didn't know how to respond. She felt nothing yet something. What was she feeling? The kill? No. But all she could do was laugh. She didn't know why. She didn't understand it one bit. She just chuckled, staring into Tracer's destroyed visage and registering a memory that made her laugh in discomfort. Her brow curled unnaturally, and she felt panic for a split in her timeline.

Lights flashed behind the two women, and Widowmaker's mind clicked back into place from its delusionary lapse. Talon would kill Tracer. Widow's ride was here, and the Overwatch agent was directly in its line of fire. Without a moment to reconsider, Widow pulled Tracer's face so close to hers she could smell her sweat, and spoke two words in her mother language that meant so much more than she could fathom.

'Adieu, Cherie.'

Widow pulled Tracer back off of the roof, flying through the air once again, and slammed the girl into the side of the building, using her previously latched grappling hook to leave her opponent where she lay. Widow returned to the building's top, reclaimed her gun, and boarded the Talon airship. As the doors closed over her piercing, yellow eyes, Widowmaker stilled her slowed heart.

It was over…

The notion of life was as brief as ever…

But her little fly guaranteed another dance worth living for…

Worth feeling alive for…