Widowmaker

'Athena? Patch me through to Winston right now. Code Black.'

"Connecting."

"Lena?"

Tracer put the ridiculous monkey on speaker so Widow could hear his gruff voice.

'Winston. I think…we think Talon is about to attack.'

"If it was almost anyone but you I'd want some proof, but that's all I need to hear. Athena?"

"Initiating security level 5. All Overwatch agents on guard and in position for enemy infiltration. This is not a drill. Code Black is now active. Proceed with caution. Do not engage with Talon agents categorized as threat level 4 or higher. Repeat. Initiating security level – "

"Boop!"

Every single light went dark, and the alarm that had just started to sound could only echo its final siren. A shield had resonated over the base once Winston greenlit the security initiation, but even that faded to barely anything. A backup generator took over, but any form of illumination was minimal at best, and only a deep hum remained in place of the ear-piercing siren.

'Sombra.' Widow thought of the mischievous hacker immediately.

'Could've used a little more warning there, Sombra.' Tracer muttered almost familiarly, strangely enough. Her phone beeped, and she read the message aloud.

'She says, "Sorry, lovelies, but how could I turn down that much money? Don't have to work a day in my life now! Talon is ready to mess you all up. Yikes. Not the kinda rough night you were hoping for, right, Tracer? Better get your guns! Things are about to explode!" Bloody hell…'

'As annoying as ever.'

'She's right though; I gotta get my guns.'

'Our guns.'

Tracer hesitated, meeting Widow's eyes and shaking her head.

'No can do, Luv. We saw what happened earlier, right? It's too risky.'

'Oh? Then whatever is your plan? I'm better off defending myself.'

'But if you turn mid-fight what then, huh?'

The rain seemed to pick up its intensity as if answering Widow's clouded thoughts. She knew this irritating girl was right, but she certainly refused to admit it. Soon, voices were heard scrambling, various Overwatch agents moving into positions clearly already planned out for scenarios very similar to this one.

'I gotta get you back to your room. It's all we can do. It'll be secure. You'll be safe from them…and yourself.'

'You're leaving me!?' Widow hissed before she even realized what she was saying. Her mind ached, and thoughts of being separated from Tracer only led to the potential of a successful kidnapping by Talon. She shut her eyes in frustration, snapping her head to the side and gritting her teeth.

'I…gotta fight, Luv. I don't want to leave you, trust me, but…'

'I don't care.' Widow turned and began walking through the rain, its pellets large and merciless. She was drenched in seconds, and thankful for it.

'Hey!' Tracer grabbed her wrist, a wave of relief and rage forcing Widow to jerk away.

'I won't go back. I can't go back! They made me a monster! A beast! A demon! I murdered my own husband! I could only watch as they gouged my stomach empty of what could've been! Let me fight! Let me fight those bastards! Let me kill!'

Tracer's mouth tightened, and her eyes turned sympathetic; the same way she had looked at Widow when she first asked her that pivotal question: "Why?"

An explosion shook the base, but its source was closer to the command tower. Tracer and Widow both found their footing, and the Overwatch agent got on her phone, signalling Widow to follow her.

'What's the situation, Jack?' She asked, and then she went silent, her normally bubbly persona subdued. Widow observed more Overwatch agents scrambling, shouts and commands being issued as two more explosions sounded, one so close Widow felt the heat on her face despite the rain.

'Fine. I got it. I'm gonna outfit Widow with some equipment so she can defend herself.' Tracer picked up her pace, going into a light jog that Widow followed, her cybernetic eyes analyzing her surroundings and the waves of Overwatch agents still moving into positions already outlined prior. They gave her no attention, which she was thankful for.

'I wasn't asking for permission, Jack. If she does anything then it's on me, innit?'

Widow blinked rapidly, her and Tracer moving into the main part of Overwatch Gibraltar, the winding corridors leading to the weapons bay where other soldiers were getting equipped, Torbjorn and Brigitte hustling to outfit anyone and everyone that needed it.

'Move it, move it, move it! Get yer gun and go!' Torbjorn bellowed.

'Last checks! Everything ready?' Brigette slapped agents on the back, pushing them out and wishing them luck.

'Heya, Luvs! Tracer here.'

'Bout dame time! Take yer Pulse Pistols and a bomb. Do yer thing, Lena! The first wave was already pushed back by Jack and the rest in the frontlines, but after them explosions I'm thinkin' that was just a damn greetin'!'

'I'll need her stuff, too. Heheh!' Tracer pointed to Widow with her thumb.

'What!? No way no how! Who cleared that?'

'Um. Me?'

'Are you outta yer mind!?'

'A little. You got her gear though, right?'

'Under lock and key!'

'Then tick tock, Torb! All hands on deck!'

The small man grunted in disapproval, and Widow herself finally stepped forward.

'Please.' She said quite simply, but poured her whole heart into the request.

'Papa…' Brigette touched her father's shoulder, and the man growled loudly.

'I don't have time fer this standin' around! She's your responsibility, Lena! Don't take yer eyes off her, damn it!'

'Wouldn't dream of it!'

Within seconds, both Tracer and Widow had weapons in hand, and Widow would admit to herself that nerves tingled within every sense her body had recovered. Holding the Widow's Kiss frightened her. Her body innately knew what she had done with such a weapon. Even the grappling hook realigned to her wrist felt tight. She didn't have her recon visor, unfortunately, but still, it was all better than nothing.

'Thanks…' Widow muttered, and because of the downpour, Tracer didn't respond.

Another explosion, this one obnoxiously close, forcing Widow to use her enhanced physical prowess to stabilize herself, grabbing hold of Tracer before she fell.

'Clumsy as ever, little girl.'

'Jeez! How are they getting those bombs in here? There's a barrier and everything!'

'A weak one now, thanks to Sombra. And Talon has unlimited resources. They hired professionals, evidently.'

'Ugh! Come on!'

'Hmph.'

A large dip, and Widow followed Tracer up into the vicinity of the main tower, where Talon agents and Overwatch grunts were locked in combat. The explosions likely mapped out where Talon was successfully infiltrating, and the bulk of their forces were clearly being deployed here. Large, imposing aircrafts floated through the sky like alien ships, dropping more and more soldiers painted black to join the fray. The general darkness and rain helped matters not, and it was clear Talon's goal was to take over the command tower and disrupt Overwatch's ability to organize a decent counterattack further. Was this truly all just to get Widow back? The assassin was beginning to doubt as much.

Troopers and Enforcers made up the bulk of Talon's forces, but even they could do little against Overwatch's best. As Widow and Tracer approached the battle royale, she witnessed Winston, Jack Morrison, and Jesse McCree's inhuman abilities, and could instinctively sense Ana's presence, her shadow expertly lurking and dropping unsuspecting opponents while simultaneously providing support to her comrades.

'Ready, Luv?'

'I'm ready to kill.' Widow's eye twitched, and she actually felt her heart murmur.

'Then I'm trusting you, got it? Let's do this!'

'…Yes.'

'Cheers, Luvs! The cavalry's here!' Tracer screamed, and she disappeared, a blur of white-blue light trailing her as she charged straight into combat. Widow glanced up and noted a particularly high, large oval dome that seemed to be some form of communication device. She grappled above, the rain pelting against her face as she did so, and positioned herself, crouching low and readying her gun, seeing just how many Talon agents were being used in this attack.

Tracer was incredible, truly. Widow knew this intimately. The girl had no fear, and was in the middle of combat regularly, narrowly dodging fatal blows and reversing her time as needed. She herself picked off numerous agents, while Jack and the cowboy seemed nearly invincible with how well co-ordinated they were. Winston's portable shield scattered foes anywhere his massive form landed, and Widow finally spotted a dark mass in the corner of the upper door that led into the main control tower. Ana.

Kill her.

Kill them.

Kill them all.

Widow shook her head and directed her attention to the massive aircrafts bringing in Talon agents. They were slow vehicles, but heavily armoured, and attempting to down one – let alone a multitude of them – seemed impossible. Was her usefulness restricted to firing from above? So be it. She would kill as many as it took.

Her finger hesitated on the trigger, an image of Gerard's bulging eyes and purple face stopping her. A bloody mess slopped into a bucket froze Widow's mind, and she bit down hard on her lip, making the first shot at last and taking out a particularly mobile Assassin agent. He flipped midair, his fresh corpse collapsing into his brethren.

Even within the rain, Widowmaker's rifle echoed loud, it's deadly presence capable of sending chills down the toughest foe's spine. There was a very clear shift in Talon's movement then, a tentativeness filling the ranks as they couldn't divert their attention from the capable Overwatch agents before them, but also risked being downed like one of their most evasive troops just exemplified.

'Hah…' Widow breathed out slowly, her groin tingling. 'One shot…' She uttered under her breath, firing another round, her bullet penetrating a Talon agent's skull, his brain matter splattering everywhere. 'One kill.'

Something grazed Widow's cheek, and she licked the blood that trailed down to her lips.

'Heh. Amateur.' What was the best way to counter a sniper? With another sniper, naturally. Widow knew of the select few elite members of Talon who were meant to take on missions simple enough for their skill level. The trouble for them was that Widow was often the only individual trusted with important assassinations regardless, and within half a second, her brain processed precisely where the shot had come from, made the appropriate adjustments based on numerous variables, and aimed, locating her target and ending them swiftly.

Widow turned her attention to the battle below her, and noted Tracer's movements through her rifle's scope. One blink. Two. Three. Break. Recall. Break. One blink. Pause. Two, three.

Kill her.

Widow snapped back, her eyes burning. The will of Talon still resided within her, after all. She had to maintain control. This was her chance to be free of that cancerous organization. One misfire and even she knew it would be all but over for her.

Tracer recalled again, but an Assassin was on her, two other Troopers surrounding her. She easily got rid of one of the grunts, but the Assassin was formidable up close, and it reduced the gap between himself and the time bender. Without thinking, Widow readied her gun and took out the Assassin, providing Tracer the moment she needed to finish off her third opponent. She gave Widow a quick wave, but went back to work, evidently tiring some, but pushing through it all, as Widow had come to expect.

Kill her.

Overwatch was clearly taking control of the situation. Even when two Heavy Assault agents were dropped, Jack Morrison was an absolute monster, charging in alongside McCree and Tracer herself to take the deadly foes out before they could hurt some of the lesser skilled troops. Widow remained unchallenged, and Talon's army was dwindling by the minute.

It all seemed too simple.

Then, something caught the corner of Widow's eye. She wiped rain from her face, noting a glimmer flicker from one of the massive aircrafts, and no sooner had she given the disruption her momentary attention did an individual like that of a human meteorite descend onto the battlefield, smashing into the ground and taking out more than fifteen individuals – both friend and foe – who were unfortunate enough to be fighting on his landing pad. Widowmaker knew immediately that it was Doomfist, a.k.a., Akande Ogundimu.

The battle could very well shift in Talon's favour by his presence alone, and because of this, Widowmaker took aim and shot in one singular movement. Her precision was perfect, but Doomfist was hardly any ordinary foe, and he was already lifting a corpse the second he landed, tossing it in the air and using it as a shield. In the same action, he uppercut an Overwatch agent, loaded him midair with his hand cannon, slammed the now dead foe into the earth, and used the shockwave created under the surrounding elevated foes as a means to continue his assault.

Barely seven seconds had passed, but over twenty were dead by the incredible Akande Ogundimu, the latest successor to the almighty Doomfist name.

His point made, Akande stood tall, the fight brought to a standstill suddenly.

'I am here for one thing and one thing alone,' Doomfist began, his deep, masculine voice piercing through the downpour of rain. 'You have taken an important member of my inner circle from me. I have come to reclaim her. She goes by Widowmaker, and I do believe she is up there based on the perfect shot that would have pierced my brain should I not have reacted in time.'

Widow's body trembled at the thought. "Reclaim"? Perhaps she had felt a notion of relief at being amongst Akande's most trusted people at one time, but that still meant working for Talon in some capacity, and that sliver of hope meant nothing in the face of…of what that foolish girl had shown Widow life could still possibly be regardless of the living hell she had endured.

'Looks to me like she doesn't wanna go.' Jack answered, his equally gruff tone a comparable adversary.

'Without her, the world risks remaining weak. She is an integral part of my plans – Talon's true purpose. Relinquish her, and we will let you all live. Do not, and face a terror not even I wish to unleash. It is your choice, ashes of what once was. The end result for Talon remains constant, but your inevitable casualties will not, depending on your answer.'

'Big talk from a guy who is currently outnumbered.' Jack pushed.

'Your backlines are dying.' Akande went on, unflinching. 'Reaper is having his fill.'

'Not according to our own force of nature.' Jack tapped the communicator on his head, but even Widow could see the way his stance changed ever so slightly at the mention of his old comrade.

'You believe that battle-crazed fool would admit anything but victory? His silly squire approaches death, and Reaper claims he's only just warming up. Your golden child could barely escape his wrath alive; how do expect anyone but perhaps yourself to manage anything better?'

'You're not taking Amelie!' Tracer finally stepped in, huffing heavily. 'She wants to stay with us. We're saving her!'

Widow breathed out, shouldering her gun and taking aim on Akande anew. That girl…that foolish, foolish girl…

Kill her.

'You've confused her. It is not such a fantastical accomplishment. Her mind is fragile. Only we can help her now. And she can help the world; as I intend to.'

'Are we done?' Jack's gun buzzed, the energy within it recharging.

'Last chance. What you say next determines how many of you die.' Doomfist growled.

Akande wasn't one to bluff, but at the same time, did he honestly believe he could take out some of the best Overwatch had to offer in a free-for-all? One-on-one, Widow had little doubt he could win, but with the likes of Ana in the wing and Jack, Winston, McCree, and Tracer in the frontlines, even Akande must've realized his chances of success were terribly low. He also had to be aware of Widow's presence, and that was something no fighter enjoyed taking into consideration when moving.

'She stays!' Tracer declared.

'You heard her.' Jack shrugged. 'Outranks me now and all.'

Akande's muscular shoulders dropped, his incredible gauntlet gleaming in the rain as he lifted a hand, all that remained of Talon scurrying behind him progressively.

'A pity. Let natural selection begin here, then.' Akande swung his hand down, but Jack and McCree attacked simultaneously, Doomfist forced to deflect their bullets and spring backward as another meteorite soon exploded, this one causing the very concrete to shatter completely, a small crater left in the enormous object's wake. Talon was downright scattering now, as if ants crawling back from whence they came. Only Doomfist remained, and he slowly approached the steaming metallic pod.

'Get back!' Jack hollered, intelligent enough in his evaluation, obviously noting the way Talon had nearly completely vacated the premise.

'A teleporter of some descript?' Winston fastened his glasses.

'The real kicker is what's inside, right? Better get them guns ready.' McCree whistled.

'The strong live, and the weak die. This world has lost all semblance of strength, allowing even the most unproductive among us to thrive on the backs of others.' Akande punched in a long code, and as he did so, Widow saw her chance, shooting once again. Whatever was in that pod was powerful enough to convince Akande he could win against the Overwatch elite.

Doomfist parried Widow's bullet with his irreplaceable gauntlet and twisted his body to avoid another opportunist in the form of Ana. Had she timed her attack alongside Widow's, anticipating precisely when she would strike again? How formidable. Small wonder she was considered a legend still.

Crouching, Akande went on, the pod's entrance opening dramatically.

'I say, no more. Prove your worth, Overwatch!'

'Give it everything you got! Now! Now! Now!' Jack screamed at the top of his lungs. 'Tactical Visor activated!'

'You're powered up! Get in there!'

'RAWWWRRR!'

Widow would admit, she was rather impressed. Never mind the barrage of bullets from the multitude of grunts, but the combined powers of all the "Masters" and "Grandmasters" present was a sight to behold. Could anything survive that level of firepower? It just didn't seem possible. Talon underestimated Overwatch, just as they underestimated Widow's will to fight back. This fight was an idiotic act of futility. If Talon wanted a chance at winning against such an organization, they couldn't hold back. That much was clear.

Unless…

Before the dust had even settled, Winston's body flew backward, slamming into the ground and sliding until it collided with the main tower. His armour had protected him well enough, and Ana's nano boost made the already durable ape nearly invincible, but he was clearly disoriented, shaking his head as various agents assisted him.

'If your rank is any lower than Master…find some cover! That's an irrefutable order!' Jack snapped his arm out as if protecting his men and women. His battle instincts had kicked in. Even Widow's skin prickled with animalistic fear. Whatever was in that pod, whatever had endured such an attack, and whatever had toppled the enormous Winston, was about to emerge.

The agents did as they were told, if hesitantly, and there were only approximately a dozen individuals left. Widow readied her rifle, but as she did so, an arm reached around her waist, and another grappled her mouth, restricting her in a grip like iron.

'Watch.' Akande whispered in her ear.

The metal upon his gauntlet bit into Widow's face, and he held her so tight the smallest movement risked crushing her organs. Widow realized then that she just might be taken back to Talon, and the mere possibility of that terrified her beyond reason.

'Do not struggle. Dr. O'Deorain can always repair what I break in you.' An armoured finger pushed into Widow's mouth a moment later, nearly choking her. 'And no escaping that way either.'

Kill. Kill. Kill…

It was hard to see clearly. The being that stepped out of the pod was just a little bigger than Winston, its shape not completely different either, although it was mostly black, the rain making its coat of smooth steel shine in the night. It was almost like a Bastion unit merged with an OR14, yet it had organic remnants as well, as though it were both an animal and an omnic at once.

'What the hell…?' McCree was the first to comment.

'Damn it. Another one.' Jack could be heard.

'The one Mr. Morrison destroyed in Volskaya Industries was nothing but the most basic of prototypes. Overwatch, interestingly enough, classified it as a Berserker, so our little hacker claims. That was quite a happy accident, for they're all berserkers with subclasses. Let me introduce you to the Berserker Tank, the world's first exposure to Talon's Black Omnic series.'

Widow now knew precisely why Talon had cleared out. Generally, when something was considered a berserker by any nature, it was near impossible to control. Not even Doomfist wanted to be nearby when this thing was set loose. After the display of firepower Overwatch had just enacted to no avail, what hope did Widow have?

'Its durability cannot be matched, as you have witnessed. A slow death awaits your new friends because of their stubborn attitude. Pity. I admire their collective strength. However, although this B.T. lacks raw firepower, it will not run out of energy before the remnants of Overwatch, and they can only hide for so long. Abandon ship, perhaps, but that would be the only way. How valuable all this information laying here would be for Talon.'

Widow grunted at last, staring down and looking for Tracer, whom she couldn't find. Was she helping the other agents evacuate? Where was she? Was Widow truly destined to return to the hell Talon promised? When she finally saw a flicker of light in the abyss of her life?

'Retrieve every E.M.P. bomb we have! Go! McCree and Winston; we'll hold this thing off.' Jack issued the commands, some of the agents retreating inside, and some others circling the perimeter. The B.T. didn't hesitate further, and it leapt upon one of the agents, crushing him underfoot and flattening his skull in the pavement. The bulky monstrosity could move, much like Winston, once again. It turned to Jack, McCree, and the enormous ape, its red eyes shining, illuminating the black, tar-like skin stretched over its metallic body crudely.

'It weighs close to a tonne. An unfortunate way to die.' Akande huffed.

Widow struggled slightly, testing the waters, and as anticipated, she only hurt herself, Doomfist's hold unbelievably strong. She wouldn't go back. Never. The first opportunity she had she would kill herself. That was that. Anything was better than becoming their sick puppet again. Anything was better than the torture being brought to Moira O'Deorain promised.

Her eyes watered, the cybernetic technology behind them burning.

'Shh. Do not fear. You are one of the chosen, Widowmaker. This is simply a means to bring you to the path you are destined to walk. You will stand atop the weak alongside me and the true face of Talon.'

Never. That girl. That foolish, idiotic, bumbling, immature, awkward…caring…kind…considerate…loving girl…How could Widow face her if she just went so easily?

'Psst! What you lookin' at?' Tracer's voice appeared, and Doomfist's hold slackened for but a millisecond; ages for the skilled Widowmaker to dislodge herself from him, kicking the man away as Tracer rapidly shot at his form, his gauntlet protecting him, but hindering his view enough for Widow to grab hold of Tracer by the waist and grapple far and away, leaping over the B.T.

'Hahah! Drop me here, Luv!' Tracer demanded, and although a very small part of Widow refused to let her go, she did as she was told, trusting the Overwatch agent.

Tracer blinked back and forth, the B.T. only barely reacting to her approach before she attached a bomb to the core of the beast's body. Her recall would come next. It was perfect. Tracer knew precisely what she was doing. Widow was already smirking, until a spark of electricity trailed the B.T.'s sharp hand, and the recall didn't happen. Tracer remained before the ticking bomb, seconds before its detonation, and only Widow was close enough to do anything about it.

There was nothing to think about.

Let her die.

'No.' Widow exclaimed aloud, and she released her grappling hook, twisting her descent so that she could only pray she would get to Tracer in time.