Chapter 15
When everything goes to Hell
'No plan survives contact with the enemy.'
This quote was stuck in his head at times like these. Annoyingly enough, he couldn't really get rid of it. He picked it up at some point in military academy back in Slovakia, but could barely remember which historical general was famous for it again.
The words rang true when he looked at his team. He started with a squad size of eight, but since they were forced into the last minute plan to hijack Overwatch's hangar, he made the decision to leave his second in command Josephine together with their heavy weapons specialist to guard the escape vehicle. Then his best assault agent was fried by this Winston character.
That guys sister Rania promptly lost her shit.
That's when Viktor decided to leave their sorry excuse for a medic behind, too. Not just to calm Rania down, but also because he feared that the twitchy Doc Khaled would botch the mission all by himself in no time.
To sum it up: Viktor already lost his best assault agent, his tech officer, a medic and heavy weapons.
He was left with a drunk demolitionist, a radio specialist speaking broken English and a Moroccan girl that was freaking out about her fried brother.
What else could go wrong?
"Commander, word from distraction platoon at front entrance."
Viktor peaked around another corner for enemy activity before motioning his squad to move on into the next corridor. There was a small hope to hear good news from Sergei, but his gut feeling already knew better.
"Lay it on me."
"It was total disaster."
Knew it.
"How 'total' are we speaking, Sergei?"
"Two thirds in casualties, rest retreated or MIA. Platoon commander Voclain reportedly turned himself in to the enemy."
"He fuckin' wat?!"
Rania burst out in disbelief. Old man Conall followed up in his rich, Irish accent.
"Never trust a Frenchman, I say! Talking shite all day before hissing the white flag. Useless scut..."
While Viktor took the news with a raised eyebrow, he didn't bother to comment alongside his squaddies. Truth be told, he was only half surprised to hear of Voclain's surrender. It even sounded ever more tempting to himself, to just abort the mission as the signs piled up that his team, too, would soon fail at their task. Doubts nested in his mind ever since he lost so many good men and women in South Korea.
He pushed that all aside. They were rapidly running out of time, sure, but their target was mere moments away.
"Focus! Conall, Sergei, the Armory is to your right over there! Secure the objective! Regroup as soon as you are able!"
"Aye commander!"
The Irishmen took another sip from his hip flask before readying the C4 package he would use to create an opening to the armory. There was no time left for nuance, so they had to hope that Widowmaker's equipment wasn't right on the other side of the upcoming blast. Viktor only wished that they would have at least given him a sober person to handle the job.
"Rania, with me!"
After that quick glance, they were ready to move out, but Sergei again demanded his attention at the last moment. The Russian was intently listening to his com device.
"Commander! One more news. Operation 'Antique' was full success!"
His whole squad was silent for a moment. It was as if a heavy burden was lifted from their shoulders.
He had almost forgotten about that other London mission. Viktor finally nodded and departed with Rania.
As they were running to the end of the corridor, towards Widowmaker's cell, he could feel the tension in his Moroccan squad mate loosen up a bit. The blue haired woman was talking quietly below her breath, totally out of character.
"They did it, boss... such a relief! Maybe we'll make it out alive, eh?"
"If we hurry, we won't even need the backup."
"That'd be a shame. I'd love to see him tear that fuckin' ape apart…"
Viktor could hear as Rania's teeth ground against each other. She reminded him of Josephine and her grudge against all of the Overwatch agents involved in commander Graf's death. Sadly there simply would not be enough time to think of revenge on DVa, Reinhardt or this doctor Ziegler.
"Her cell is up ahead. Ready your lock pick!"
"Sure thing boss! I just hope they locked her up again after the last intel on Oxford street."
You and me both.
They approached a plain metal door. It was much more simple than the one guarding the entrance to the armory, which surprised Viktor a great deal. He had already feared that explosives would be their only option to get into this room, too.
His surprise had grown palpable as he pushed down the door handle to find it unlocked.
"…the fuck?"
Rania captured their reaction's quite well. They both stood in the doorway to this supposed "holding cell", which looked way more like a captains living quarter. There was no sign of Widowmaker. The room was empty, save for a woman's clothes strewn about. Squad commander Viktor Trgiňa felt a tinge of despair creep up his neck.
"Nothing! Did the hacker dupe us?!"
Viktor entered and studied the clothes. There was Widowmaker's violet body suit, completely torn at the top. There were tight, yellow spandex pants and a flight jacket. He knew exactly who those belonged to.
"Highly unlikely. This is definitely her room."
"What are we gonna do now, boss?"
"Improvise. I've got a few ideas."
At least he could draw one answer from this scene: If Overwatch hadn't felt the need to contain Widowmaker and she probably was in a state of undress with one of the enemies' agents, together with the intel of that thrift shop on Oxford street… Everything pointed towards Widowmaker going rogue. And since they were rapidly running out of time, there was only one safe option left.
He opened his squad's com link.
"The target is to be killed on sight. I repeat, kill on sight."
They ran across the final corridor.
"Ze commotion is still coming from ze hangar!"
"Be careful Reinhardt, it's right around the corner!"
Gripping her Caduceus staff tightly, she followed behind her big friend. Her skin was tingling with goosebumps. She hated combat situations like the plague and what she saw certainly didn't help.
Parts of the hangar's wall had caved into the corridor. While Reinhardt navigated the rubble to position himself in front of their forces, Angela flew directly to those soldiers seeking cover behind the crumbling walls and a big, blue energy bubble. There was another inhabitant inside that bubble, gravely wounded and deeply panting.
"Winston! What happened to you?!"
She immediately turned her Caduceus staff to superficially mend the great apes body. His white armor was riddled and shredded with bullets.
It will be a pain to remove all of them…
"Nothing… nothing major, doctor. This mini gun is giving us problems."
"A mini gun? Why hasn't it…"
While still focusing on Winston, Angela tried to get a feel for the battlefield. She knew better than anyone how defenseless Bastion would be if he was on his own, so she couldn't quite understand why a stationary target hadn't been taken out yet.
At this moment, Reinhardt heatedly fired an energy wave towards the Talon aircraft.
The wave just vanished out of thin air. The grand crusader had to hurry, putting his shield back up as retaliating gunfire already crashed back into his armor.
"Defense drones. The enemy… got a skilled drone operator… on their side."
Winston flinched and needed to catch his breath between words.
"She's almost as effective… as Miss Song's defense matrix."
Her gaze moved on, as there was one more fight going on. On the far side of the hangar towards the canteen entrance, Soldier 76 was tied up in a duel with Reaper.
"Jack!"
"He… ngh!"
Winston grunted as Angela diverted too much of her attention and let the reconstruction stream slip, exposing her commander to pain again.
"Sorry!"
"He tried to… stop the enemy from entering the base, but Reaper wouldn't let him."
Angela watched the fight out of the corner of her eye. Jack was constantly trying to keep his distance, adeptly running and jumping behind cover again and again to let hellfire shells crash into walls and debris instead of their intended target. Reaper on the other hand was growling audibly, constantly trying to close the distance to where his shotguns would be most effective.
A dance of death.
Neither of them seemed to be able to gain the upper hand. While Reaper's shots constantly missed their target by a hairs breadth, Jack couldn't really find an opportunity to get more than a three-bullet salvo in.
"We have to help him!"
"As soon as I'm back in the… condition to, promise."
He chuckled painfully. Angela redoubled her efforts, biting her lower lip.
"What about Tracer?"
"I haven't seen her. Is she… supposed to be here?"
"You really should've run, my dear."
Ana descended on her with a readied combat knife. Amélie shrieked while she despaired at her shock-frozen body.
I've got to move! PLEASE!
Finally, her muscles responded. Her arm pulled itself up protectively in reflex. The sharp edge sliced the side of it wide open while the stab was redirected to miss inches above Amélie's head.
I'm gonna die!
The French girl screamed in pain and stumbled away while Ana recovered from the failed stab. Amélie rushed across the barely lit room and had trouble to keep balance. The pain was numbing her sense of direction, so she crashed into a rack of medical supplies and glass bottles. With a deafening ring in her ears, she pushed on.
She could barely hear Ana curse behind her as the rack crashed to the ground, causing more glass to shatter. The door was right in front of her and she opened it with her whole body weight. Because of this, she stumbled outside as it easily gave way and rushed straight into the opposing wall.
"Fuck…!"
She gasped for air. The blood from her wound was plastered on the wall. While briefly recovering her balance, she stared at it in sickened awe.
A sound of boots breaking shards of glass behind her made her snap out of it.
I'mgonnadieI'mgonnadieI'mgonnadie…
Startled like a twitchy rabbit, Amélie ran. As she tried to turn the corner on an intersection, a shot rushed by her head, missing only because she decided against running straight on.
"Lena! Help!"
"Keep screaming, dear! You'll be easier to track."
She cried out in dread and desperation, but was soon shut up by her pursuer. After a while her head was spinning. Adrenaline and the sounds of her pursuer kept her going, but the blood loss and sheer panic slowly began taking their toll. Her sight was getting blurry, but not from her weakening body.
Lena, please save me! Where are you?! I'm gonna die! LENA PLEASE!
Tears streaked down her cheeks as she ran. Amélie cried out of fear and hopelessness.
The French girl ran on and on, taking corner after corner and finally squeezed her eyes shut in desperation. She didn't even know where she was anymore. Her body ached after minutes of strain, constantly crashing into walls and losing balance, barely dodging the shots of her tireless pursuer.
I'm so weak! If this goes on… I'm such a failure, Lena… Maybe I should just… lay down…
Her legs were already slowing. All her basic instincts rebelled against the thought of surrender, but the rest of her was slowly overpowered with despair.
Nobody will save me.
As she thought that, Amélie bumped into a body.
The French girl gasped and quickly held onto whatever she collided with to keep her balance. Her body shivered. Whomever she just crashed into felt strong and dependable, something she desperately needed.
Tear stained eyes opened just a moment later to look up.
Her gaze met that of a more than confused looking man.
"C-Captain… Triginjav?"
Viktor picked up his jaw, having dropped it just now, and cleared his throat. He wasn't alone, which Amélie slowly realized. She recognized them all to be veterans of Talon.
She didn't notice how the blue haired girl aimed an assault rifle at the back of her head, only the disapproving look from Viktor that unbeknownst to her dissuaded the imminent execution.
"It's Commander Trgiňa. We're here to rescue you, agent Widowmaker."
Amélie had never been so happy to see a familiar face before.
Rescue me?
These words filled her with joy.
"Y-You are? Oh I'm so relieved! Congratulations on the promotion, commander Triginjav!"
"TRGI- ah never mind, thank you. We will escort you to our aircraft now, Madame. Your weapon was just recovered."
The French girl blinked a few times as the white-bearded, grinning Conall shoved Widow's Kiss into her hands.
"Here you go lass! Good to have you back, I say!"
It was strange to see someone smile at her with such relief. But even more so to feel the weight of her own sniper rifle again. She had already come to terms with never touching another gun in her life.
Then her eyes got big. She looked with great urgency up to the Talon commander.
"Viktor, there's no more time! We need to run! She's behind me!"
"She?"
The veterans around her all immediately tensed up, but even then was it too late.
Soundless shots pierced the air. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the impact. A feathered injector was stuck to Conall's cheek. His skin around the projectile turned violet. Whatever it was further crawled along beneath his skin, even seeping into his widening, right eye. Whatever the virulent chemical infected promptly withered. His cheeks fell in, his skin turned brittle and his bloodshot eye shriveled while he was still conscious.
The Irishman screamed bloody murder in agony.
At least until another shot hit the throat a second later, withering his vocal cords.
Amélie had been a fool to think she was safe. There it was again, the hopeless dread balling up inside her stomach.
I'm gonna die.
"ENEMY SPOTTED! COVERING FIRE!"
Huh?
Viktor's voice completely pulled her away from these feelings, in addition to physically pushing her onwards down the corridor. While Conall was still in the process of slumping to the ground for his dying breath, the whole squad sprang into action. The blue haired girl and the other, Siberian seeming agent emptied their leaden magazines towards the other end of the corridor where the shots had come from.
"Stop the pursuer at all cost! Regroup at the bird!"
The commander had his arm around Amélie as he forcefully led her down into more and more corridors of the complex. They ran on for a solid minute. She finally recognized her surroundings again. They were on the way to the cafeteria and could hear shots coming from this direction, too.
"Status report!"
Viktor had talked into his com device, Amélie realized.
One minute earlier
I knew it! She would betray us all again in a heartbeat.
Ana's expression hardened as she scoped around the corner, observing the outright cheerful conversation between Widowmaker and the Talon agent she had bumped into. Blood constantly trickled into her vision since she got that head wound from the rack that Widowmaker had thrown onto her in the medical storage room.
The experienced Egyptian didn't need long to decide upon her actions. Sheer vengeance reinforced her will and senses, simultaneously driving her mind down a one-way street, towards a single conclusion.
Ana would kill them all.
Grenade launcher. This one first.
Her shots hit with effortless precision. The only downside to her weapon was that one shot wasn't enough to eliminate an opponent. Ana balanced this fact out with pure speed.
"ENEMY SPOTTED! COVERING FIRE!"
Military efficiency, even in the face of a fallen comrade. The sniper cursed below her breath. This unit had at least some experience, as she actually had to duck to cover to evade the return fire. A glimpse of Widowmaker slipping away made her regret not just eliminating her in the first place, but then she would have to deal with grenades landing at her feet. It would've been impossible to do combat.
This was manageable.
She knew their weapons. She knew the magazine size, trajectory and range. So she counted.
Two more shots…
Right as the assault rifle was out of ammunition, she left cover and lobbed a violet glowing grenade in the direction of the hand gun wielding agent. It hit him square in the chest… but didn't bring him down. The capsule burst and covered his head and torso in the violet chemical agent, withering whatever it came into contact with. The man's body practically aged as he screamed pathetically. It looked like his flesh was burning away under his skin.
As he was dropping to his knees, his blue haired friend took two more shots to the chest. She, too, fell unceremoniously.
With the rubble taken care of, the avatar of vengeance that was Ana resolved to continue the chase.
This traitor cannot ever escape again. I WILL make her pay and everybody that dares to help her!
Ana left her cover and continued down the corridor with a brisk pace.
But something stopped her.
She looked at her feet and saw the mummy-like appearance of the man that had been unfortunate enough to be on the exploding side of her grenade. He was barely hanging on. His voice was a completely mess, almost breaking.
"Who… uses… slow poison…?"
"Get off me."
There was no time for this. Her boot stomped on the arm that held her leg. It crunched audibly. The chemical had made his bones brittle, prone to breaking with the slightest use of force. Her boot irreversibly crushed his arm.
Ana turned to go ahead, but was stopped yet again. Something had tackled her at the waist and held her in place.
"Some sadistic moron!"
The blue haired girls pained words were forced out with burning anger. That only served to piss Ana off, more so than she already was from the irritation of them actually having enough determination to fight through the chemical.
"Let go, scum! Why aren't you dead yet?!"
"We are to stop you at all cost, you bitch!"
Only now did Ana realize that her first target hadn't even died yet. In fact, that stubborn Irishmen stared at her with violet, blood shot eyes and barely any voice left. His withering mouth grinned like something out of a nightmare. He had opened his vest to give Ana the courtesy of comprehending her imminent doom in form of live explosives strapped around his body.
Ana's eye widened.
"Go… ta… hell…"
A deafening explosion rocked the whole complex. Both of them had trouble standing their ground.
"Rania, Sergei, come in!"
Viktor received only static noise. He looked desperate.
"Rania! Sergei!"
Nothing.
They would reach the cafeteria doors in a few seconds. It would be another minute until the hangar at most. Amélie was shocked to the core and kept looking back over her shoulder.
"I'm sorry commander, I…"
"This is not your fault. You are safe, that is all that matters."
These words came from a hardened face. Amélie didn't know if Viktor actually meant what he said, but to hear somebody actually care made everything slightly more bearable. Even though she would much rather hear those words from somebody else.
Lena, where are you?
The blue energy field around them gave way. Only the large crusader stood between them and the line of fire.
"She was supposed to arrive here before us! We need to move, I'm afraid I won't be able to patch you up in time before Reinhardt's shield goes down!"
Winston looked better than before, but still severely battered. He moved to stand up.
"Yes… let's head for cov-"
"Oh don't worry loves! The cavalry 's here!"
Angela was heavily startled by the voice behind her. All her attention had been on Winston and the duel between Jack and Gabriel.
"Lena!"
"Have you seen Amélie?"
"No, I mean, Lena, we need your help!"
She cocked her head.
"With what?"
"The roaring machine gun?!"
The ex-pilot looked over, slowly nodding in realization of the problem.
"Ohhh. Right! Machine gun. I'll deal with that in no time, mom!"
Going as fast as she came, Lena departed with a cocky wink and left a thoroughly irritated doctor behind.
"Heh, she's always full of energy. Who is the dad in her little spiel by the way?"
Growling, Angela redirected the beam for a second there to let Winston experience a healthy dose of pain. He winced appropriately, but still cackled on afterwards in a cheerful fashion.
This was no laughing matter, that man was dangerous. But he knew Gabriel in and out. Who else would be better to fight the Reaper than him?
Nobody. I will take that traitor down once and for all.
"Look at you, following an ape into battle! Nobody wanted you for commander anymore after last time, huh Jack?"
Like this, Gabriel had taunted him for all of their fight, prodding him into making a mistake. But Jack wouldn't. It was nothing less than a dance of death. One wrong move would spell doom for either one of them and Jack intended to be the one to land that strike. Over the course of the fight, he carefully led Gabriel on and paid attention to timing. Timing between shots, between the reforming of guns and especially of Wraith Form. He tested Gabriel, always jumping, always evading and keeping his distanceHe was like a tiger waiting for his time to pounce.
Now.
Jack vaulted himself behind cover, looked down the sights and fired a swarm of Helix rockets at where Gabriel would be. He could see the slight surprise behind that skull mask.
As the rockets would impact, at the last second, they instead rushed through their intended target and exploded behind Reaper. Like a menacing spirit, Reaper rushed towards him in this form, but Jack knew it was harmless. In fact, after sidestepping his cover, he ran straight towards the ghostlike form.
Exactly 3 seconds.
The recognition on Reaper's face was visible, as expected from a soldier of his caliber. He had been set up. Jack had not only changed his pattern by not running away, like he had done for their entire fight, he had also lured him into a corner.
Gabriel tried to raise his Hellfire Shotguns, but it was too late. As the Wraith Form ran its course, Soldier 76 rammed shoulder first into the black cloaked figure, sending him crashing into the nearby wall.
With a quick step, Jack closed the distance and descended with the butt of his rifle into the skull masked face.
It cracked.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see the culmination of another fight. Tracer had blinked up to the mini gun, rendering the projectile protection of the drones completely useless. With a wink and giggle she attached a pulse bomb to the heavy weapon and blinked away. Panic was visible in the face of the gunner.
The explosion left behind a cloud of blood, gore and machinery.
Overwatch agents at the other end of the hangar cheered loudly. Jack felt like being smug.
"You're done, Reyes."
Gabriel had slumped down the wall and found himself on the bad end of his former boss's rifle. He coughed and tried to regain his composure. It looked like the impact forced all the air out of his lungs.
"Is this the part where you'll offer me mercy in exchange for surrender?"
"Don't be silly, you will die for what you've done."
There was still time until Reaper would be able to use Wraith Form again. Jack fully intended to pull the trigger before that happened. Some sort of sick satisfaction kept him from doing so, yet.
Jack wanted nothing more than to see Reyes despair.
But despair he did not. The black figure was beginning to laugh at some unheard joke, frequently interrupted by bloody coughs.
"Reveling in victory then? Don't you think it's too early for that, Jack?"
"You're dense if you think that trick will work on…"
In that exact moment an explosion rocked the complex.
Jack hastily checked his surroundings. The other agents were just as surprised as he was and ATHENA wasn't in any condition to tell them what was going on. What if Reyes really had one more trump card? There would be no time to dawdle like this!
Just as Jack pulled the trigger, one more explosion nearly deafened his left ear. In a split second where time seemed to stand still, he could see huge chunk of concrete that someone had blasted out from the other side of the wall coming closer. It was flying in his direction and effortlessly collided with his body, taking him along its journey to the other side of the hangar. He could feel immense pain as his arm and the left side of his ribcage got practically crushed in an instant.
Through his cracked visor he could see Reinhardt's form rapidly approaching. The huge German had a blindsided expression on his face and held his shield up in reflex.
The chunk of wall actually got stopped by Reinhardt's shield, throwing sparks and obliterating the energy wall in the process. As even the huge crusader stumbled backwards from the force of the impact, Jack got catapulted further.
The last thing Jack saw was Angela. She had a horrified expression on her face.
This won't end well, will it?
With a sickening crunch, the world faded to black.
Lena could barely believe what she had seen just now. Morrison had been taken out by something that could use walls as projectiles!
How cool is that?!
She observed a huge figure emerging from the rubble. The dust slowly settled and gave way to the image of a man whose body was covered with multiple layers of tattered and torn cloaks. He had the look of a pacific islander, but his most prominent feature was a huge scar across his grizzled face. It looked like something had taken a bite out of him. This impression was reinforced by metal plates bolted to his skull. It made him look more like a cyborg than Genji ever would. A synthetic eye was where the fang of the creature had pierced his original eye. It was studying the situation in the hangar.
Steam was coming off the giant gauntlet he was wearing.
"Doomfist!"
Lena could hear this name repeated among the Overwatch agents, both in reverence and fear.
"ATHENA, how can this be?! The Doomfist is supposed to be under high security in the Overwatch museum!"
It was Winston's voice now. He was more than agitated.
"I had no knowledge of a distress call. It seems the hacker has tampered with my message cluster."
At the same time, Reaper addressed the new arrival with contempt.
"What took you so long?!"
"Do shut up, Reaper. Command sent you on this mission with almost forty agents."
For a giant capable of such destruction, the legendary Doomfist had a surprisingly measured, deep voice. His gaze stopped on the single living Talon agent in the hangar. The pulse bomb explosion had thrown Josephine out of the aircraft. She was coughing and trying to lift herself from the rubble she had landed in.
"Disgraceful. I see at least one of them survived. Is that all? Do you even have the girl?"
Reaper struggled back to his feet and looked up with seething anger.
"No, this is not all! I've sent a squad to bring her to me. They will be here any moment now!"
Lena tensed up as she listened to this surreal discussion. Talon had captured Amélie! And they would bring her here. She watched baffled as the two of them argued on. A quick look behind her told Lena that the other Overwatch agents would struggle to stop Doomfist. If Tracer didn't do something, they would get away with Amélie!
The pressure of these thoughts forced a shiver down her spine. This giant had just effortlessly punched a hole into a concrete wall, what would he do to a frail girl like her?
'Why, he would end you, Chérie.'
Y-You're not helping!
'These men are trying to take everything from you. Your love, your confidence, your sanity… But you're too afraid to do something about it, no? You'll let them have it, no?'
Never! I'm NOT afraid! I won't let them!
'Then fight for it. Do try not to die~'
Amélie's voice fired her up like nothing else. The grip around her pulse pistols tightened and her eyes burned with hatred towards this giant of a man.
"Good. Us two should be more than enough to dispose of-"
"Fuck off! You won't have her!"
With a blink into the air she was upon Doomfist, throwing all her might into an overhead kick that was narrowly blocked by his gauntlet.
"She's fuckin' done with you guys!"
The huge man was startled by her grim look of determination as Tracer blinked on and showered him in pulse fire. A lot of the rounds hit his chest, but it looked like the shots barely chipped at Doomfist's stamina. With a deep grunt, he threw a powerful punch with his gauntlet. Barely feeling the outskirts of the shock waves he threw was enough for Tracer to quickly blink out of the way as the wall behind her fractured under heavy pressure.
Doomfist had predicted this. His unguarded, meaty fist caught her straight in the chest and sent her flying. Spittle flew from her mouth as she gasped for air. Lena could feel her ribs shatter under the weight of the mighty force from his bare-fisted punch.
Out of sheer reflex she recalled. Arriving at the same spot she was three seconds ago, Lena gripped her chest, nearly hyperventilating from the trauma.
"I know you."
Her blood ran cold. His full attention was on her. Doomfist approached.
"It took a long time to return my rightful property to me. And I have you to thank for that, do I not miss Oxton?"
Lena shook her head. She tried to bury the dread, her fear of this overwhelming shadow in front of her. She forced the hand away from her chest, back to the pulse pistol. Her breathing was fast and ragged, her teeth grinding against each other.
'Why so serious, Chérie?'
I don't know…
The ex-pilot chuckled.
Of course.
It was her intent to fight, even at the cost of her own life. To be able to do that, she only knew of one way to free herself from doubt and insecurities. Amélie had taught her how.
For you, my love.
Slowly, a mad grin found its way back to her lips. A cheerful giggle disturbed the approaching giant, making even the legendary Doomfist hesitate.
"Don't you know, big guy?"
Lena looked up at him with a wink, tipping an imaginary hat. Then she gave her best Indiana Jones impression.
"That thing belongs in a museum!"
Ohhh boy! This is by far my longest chapter yet!
I wanted to make it even longer to tie up all the necessary setup, but my proof readers stopped me at 5000 words *pouts*
Please tell me how you like it! ♡
There will only be two more chapters after this one: The great finale and the epilogue! Please stay tuned, dearest reader!~