Yes
"And here we are, an empty room just for you, love," Lena announced as she showed Harter to a empty bunk in it's own room, just like most of the other agents. In it was a moderately sized cot, just enough for Harter, a storage crate for his belongings, a weapon rack, and a workshop table, complete with a full toolbox. From the lived in look, it seemed like someone had used this bunk before.
"Room used to be occupied by Torbjorn, but he ended up moving to a room closer to the main workshop," She explained as Harter examined the area.
"This'll work," Harter remarked, taking a seat upon the stiff cot. No wonder the small man had chosen another room, it felt like a rock. "So what now?"
"I guess just set your stuff down for now and take a rest, we got a briefing on a mission tomorrow, so don't miss it. I'll have someone come by to wake you up for it."
"Alright Lena. You have a good night now."
"Same to you, bye."
Lena left the room, zipping away to her own as Harter set his equipment down on the industrial table. He had carried with him to the Overwatch base his chem-gun, prototype injectors, and some other gadgets. There wasn't too much else around the room, it was pretty desolate without personal touches, not even a window to gander out of. Walking to the bunk door and closing it, he took off his clothes and redressed in a simple white T-shirt and camo shorts as he crawled into the cot.
"Heh, this'll take some getting used to," Harter muttered with a chuckle before drifting off to sleep. Slowly around him, the darkness took forms, creating color and life. Around Harter, he was standing in a city turned into a warzone. Cars, helicopters, large robots and others were scattered, destroyed. The first Omnic crisis Harter thought, recognizing the scenery. It was just like this on his… first mission. He started to walk around, searching for his past self in his dream. It didn't take long, all he had to do was follow the gunshots and screams, coming from a nearby alley.
He ran to it, and saw inside 5 armed omnics, standing in front of 4 people, a young Harter, a man with cybernetic enhancements; young Genji, a young Lena, and a Overwatch field operative unit, who had came along in the mission to collect data on the omnics. They were cornered by the threat, but the one who stood in the way of it was both Genji and Harter, with sword and small chem-gun in hands.
"Harter, what's that thing you got there?" Lena asked, with a pulse pistol in one hand and the other shielding the operative unit. She was referring to Harter's (prototype) chem-gun, loaded with a capsule of the latest batch of the fear serum he had used Overwatch's bio-science funds on.
"Think of it as an experiment," The young Harter replied slyly as he turned a small dial on it to 'gas' as he pulled the trigger on the gun. Immediately, a crimson red cloud of gas ejected from the gun, settling over the omnics closing in. At first, no response came, and the omnic's laughed at what seemed to be a failure for the agents. Unfortunately, the young Harter was grinning with sick excitement as he knew what would happen next. One by one, the omnics collapsed to the ground, clutching themselves and rolling around, shouting incoherent babble. One even dropped his gun and ran to the wall back to him, repeating the words 'stay away' over and over.
"God!" Genji swore, lowering his weapon slowly as he saw the cruelty the omnic's were subject to. Instead of following example of his ally, the young Harter slowly formed a maniac grin on his face as he examined the dying omnics.
"To think that was only ¼ of the serum used!" he remarked, giggling. "I wonder what would happen if I used all of it?"
"Don't!" Lena shouted, zipping forward in an attempt to stop Harter. Although she did manage to smack the gun out of his hand, it had smashed to the ground over near the omnics, releasing more of the gas.
"Jeez, I was that bad?" Harter (the newest one) whispered as he watched carnage unfold. He didn't remember much, mostly because he was pretty sure he had taken a gulp of that toxic air, and boy, that prototype electric gas was meant for robots, not humans. Taking a breath of that would probably make you see stars, if not kill you on the spot. The microbots put in that gas cloud were out to reprogram you to see your worst nightmares, and since humans weren't robots, they'd just keep on destroying your system until it could find a way to do it. "I was horrible back then."
"Do something, Harter!" Lena panicked, wanting to just end the omnics right there to end their suffering.
"Ha ha, what for? I'm just giving them what they deserve!" Harter protested, breaking into laughter. Lena pushed him aside and pulled out her pulse pistols, taking matters into her own hands. Right as she was picking off the unfortunate victims, a loud voice was booming down from the sky, shaking everything like a 8 magnitude earthquake.
"Wake up, wake up!" It shouted, getting progressively louder by the minute. All around Harter, the world dissolved, losing shape until it reformed again. He was now in his cot, wide awake as a figure next to him kept shaking him.
"Hey, hey! I'm awake now, you can stop shaking me," Harter suddenly said, not the slightest bit tired anymore. Although the room's lights were all on, his eyes still had to adjust to the sudden change.
"Took you long enough," a figure next to him sighed in exhaustion. As his vision returned, he made out the figure of a small woman, who, from the looks of it, couldn't have been past her late 20s, but definitely wasn't a minor. Despite Overwatch's current state, it only accepted those 18 and up.
"Who in the blazes are you?" Harter asked, taking a closer look at the woman. She wore what looked to be a blue mechanisms jumpsuit, alongside a jacket over it that said 'Pro Gamer'. She wasn't very tall, though wasn't miniscule in size, and had long dark hair with hazel eyes. Although Harter wasn't exactly in with the times, he knew a gamer when he saw one.
" , otherwise called Hana," The woman responded, "and you're Phobias, right? I'd hate to have gotten the wrong room here."
"No, it's me, Harter," he replied, shaking his head. "How much time until the meeting starts?"
"Uhm, if I'm correct… hold the 4, raise the 7… 5 minutes," Hana responded, doing the mental math while whispering to herself.
"Thanks, I'll be right there before you can say 'strawberry milkshake.'"
"Strawberry milkshake."
"Don't test me with your smart Alec moves, woman."
Hana smiled playfully as she left the room, leaving Harter to change into a clean set of clothes from the previous day. It was quite fortunate that he was quick while dressing, and it only took him about 1 minute, an additional 45 seconds if you count him grabbing his gear before exiting his bunk. Before he left, he looked at the time, 7:47 A.M. Outside in the hallway, there was a row of doors that led to other agents/operatives bunks. Other than that, there was nothing much else, no one walking in the hallway, no pieces of trash or scrap, nothing. Harter was surprised that the place was kept in good shape for so long. Reaching back into his memory, he retrieved the information of where the meeting room was, which if he was correct was left down the hall, to the right, and the door labeled room 47.
"Let's hurry," Harter muttered to himself, running to the left, down the hallway. Reaching the end, he encountered a turn leading to the right, which he followed. He kept running past bunks, testing chambers, storage units, etc, until he reached a dead end, where there were 2 doors on opposite sides of the wall. Room 73 to the left, room 47 to the right. Choosing the right door, he walked in, just barely making it in time for the 5 minute deadline. Inside, multiple people stood around a rectangular table, a holographic simulator put in the middle of the table.
"Ah, so glad you made it in time, I was worried you'd get lost," Winston said with a warm smile from across the room, beckoning for Harter to take a seat. From the looks of it, a woman in an artic coat took up the seat to Winston's left, Lena taking the one to his right. A man with a western hat and cape, obviously Matthew (otherwise known as McCree), a large man at least 7 feet tall with a noticeable scar across his face (Reinhardt). Across was Hana, chewing a stick of gum, and a tall woman about 6 feet, with a scar to the side of her head, and with pink hair. Almost immediately Harter recognized her to be the former Russian athlete, Aleksandra Zaryanova, otherwise called by her fans 'Zarya.' Harter decided to take up the spot next to her and settled in for the meeting.
"Now that we're all here, it's time we address and plan our newest mission," Winston began, pressing a few buttons to a control panel next to him, forming a 3D model on the holograph. "We've been contacted by a country, preferring to stay anonymous, that they want us to come to a compound located near the Atlantic ocean and protect a parcel making way to the United States, sent by them. Our job isn't to make sure the package isn't damaged, it's just documents, we're to make sure no one takes it, namely that Talon doesn't take it."
"And who exactly will be the frontline agents on this one?" Matthew asked, taking a puff of a half-smoked cigar and releasing the smoke away from the table. He always did have a had habit of tobacco and alcohol, it would kill him eventually.
"Specifically, I'd like to ask Tracer, Zarya, and Phobias to be the field operatives, while you, , Mei, and Reinhardt be backup for this."
"How long will we be protecting the package before it gets shipped?" Harter asked, curious of how long this would take. If there was suspicion of an attack, it was likely that the more time until the package was taken, the more time they'd have to strike.
"Only about 6 hours by the time you get there. Despite this, I'd like for our backup units to be nearby the package, able to respond at a moment's notice. You three will patrol the area directly near, prepared for an attack. Any further questions?"
No response, giving Winston the affirmative to finish.
"The operation will take place at 1700 hours tonight, report to the courtyard to board the ship travelling to the compound. Meeting dismissed."
Everyone disbanded, making way for the door, likely to get to the mess hall. It was early in the morning, no one had actually grabbed breakfast yet. Harter decided to wait for everyone else to leave before he himself left. Leaving the room, he was surprised as Lena caught him off guard, zipping right into him.
"Heya, love! Sorry if we came off on a wrong foot when we met again, just didn't expect you of all people to actually return," She apologized awkwardly, unlike her normally. She was taken to be the nice, confident type of person. Perhaps it was the fact that she was apologizing, something she rarely ever did.
"Don't worry about it, I understand," Harter said with a small smile, happy at the fact that at least he wasn't being treated horribly upon his first day back, or at least so far. "I'm gonna go grab some food, want to hop along?"
"Sure, I haven't ate anything since I woke up. Normally I just zip over to the mess hall and sneak out whatever I can, but I like to be nice and early to these meetings."
Lena and Harter both walked to the mess hall for breakfast, following the other agents to get there. In the large hall, there were about 2 dozen industrial grade cafeteria tables, positioned in 4 rows, people scattered in groups, pairs, or single in an area. To one side of the hall were about 3 machines where food could be received. There was a small line to it, but once Lena and Harter got there it had shrunk considerably. The booth was simple, just select from a small variety of meals for the time of the day, and a scanner installed in it would detect how much it would need to give you before getting you your food. Simple. Harter decided to get a bowl of grain cereal, while Lena took bacon and eggs. After getting their food, Lena led Harter to a small group of agents sitting at a table.
Sitting there was Hana and Zarya, both arguing over the food they ate. Zarya was eating a healthy meal of greens, good oats, and some other, perfect for an athlete. Hana had a plate full of pancakes and hash brown, covered in syrup. Although Harter loved hash browns, and didn't mind blueberry pancakes, syrup was something he found absolutely disgusting. Too much sugar, brings down the body.
"Hey gals," Lena interrupted, taking a seat across from Zarya, while Harter took the one cross from Hana. Immediately, Lena dug into her food, continuing, "Whatcha arguing about now?"
"Breakfast. Little woman Hana introduces too much sugar into diet, is not healthy," Zarya replied, making her stand obvious.
"Hey, I'll have you know I used only half a bottle of syrup, it's fine!" Hana protested, bringing up a point that really only supported Zarya.
"What do you think, Lena?" Zarya asked, reaching for further support.
"I dunno, this isn't something I'd like to take part of," She said, focusing more on eating than talking. Harter took a spoonful of his cereal before Hana encountered him with the same question, this time leaving him no room for neutrality.
"I won't take 'I'm neutral' for an answer, smart man," She had said firmly.
"Alright… well, in obvious light Zarya's food is much better, both in nutritional value and preferability," he decided, making the Russian athlete beam, leaving Hana less than ecstatic.
"Preferability? Nutritional value? What, did you take some sort of college classes so you could learn those words?"
"Well yeah, I did go to college to become a doctor, or at least that was the first thought."
"You tried to become a doc? What did you want to specialize in?"
"Neurology. Also the reason why I chose to implicate fear as my natural topic to base my weaponry off of, besides chemical warfare."
"I think you might need to simplify that, I understood nada of that."
"Then get a dictionary."
Harter continued to eat while Hana and Zarya kept on arguing, only to be interrupted from his food several minutes later by Lena.
"So where did you go after Overwatch disbanded?" she asked, curious. She had finished eating, and was now waiting for him, asking questions to pass time.
"I went underground. Deep underground."
"Which place? Jalevias? Avalos?"
"No, none of those, I went to the big place. You know that 'one'? The one that accepts anyone and everyone, so long as you can keep an oath?"
"Yeah, I've heard rumor. Didn't they call themselves The Raven's Sanctuary, with that eye symbol and all?"
"Something like that. Well, if you didn't know about it before, I doubt you'll find it now, it's meant to be only for those who are in desperate need of it, or didn't know about it and discovered it."
"What, you can't tell me?"
"I swore an oath to not tell anyone who doesn't know, though nothing stops me from telling you about what the organization actually is. I spent time with them, most of it angry and seething for some sort of revenge on Jack."
"You did hear that Jack died not too long ago, right?"
"Yeah, word travels down to the underground, though I wasn't around when word of Overwatch was coming back apparently. I don't get told the good stuff. What about you? Where did you go?"
"I just wandered around for a while; exploring the world. Eventually I just came back home and stayed with Emily before I got the call from Winston, sayin' Overwatch was getting back together."
Harter finished his cereal and set it aside, wiping his face from the milk.
"Harter, is rumors true?" Zarya suddenly inquired, stopping him from leaving the table.
"Which ones?" Harter asked, confused. He had done lots of things, although he did have a creeping suspicion of which she was asking.
"About you torturing the Omnics."
"Oh… yeah, I did that once. To be honest, I still feel no remorse for them."
"You don't mean that!" Lena said with a disapproving tone.
"I find it lukewarm," Zarya said, confusing both Lena and Harter. From the corner of his eye, Harter saw Hana sneaking away conspicuously. "What I mean by this is that I find it fine he tortured threat. They try to kill him, he gives them slow death. Personally, I would have done it quick, but I find his methods of torture effective."
"Er… thanks," Harter said awkwardly. He was never really complimented on that before, unless you counted last night with Gabriel, when he asked him to join Talon, but Harter didn't. Getting up from the table, he excused himself to go to his bunk. He wanted to tinker with his chem-gun a bit before the mission, and perhaps acquire another weapon to use as a primary.
"Alright, I guess I'll see you at the courtyard," Lena remarked cheerfully, zipping on out of the mess hall.
"I must go and prepare weapons for mission, прощальный привет," Zarya added, leaving too.
Harter then left the mess hall, walking back to his bunk. On the way, he saw McCree, who gave him a look that said 'you stay out of my way, I stay out of yours.' Nice to know we got some boundaries in place, Harter thought to himself as he passed the man. Back at his bunk, everything was pretty much left the same, with the exception that a small but obviously powerful pistol was now set on his table. A note next to it read, "Heard you joined back up recently, so I decided to get you a little something. It's not much, but it'll make sure you won't die because you had nothing else on you. Be sure to use it when the situation calls for you to end a life quick. You know what I mean by that. With best hopes, Ana."
"That woman's still alive?" Harter wondered aloud to himself, chuckling. Ana was a high ranking agent back at the prime of Overwatch, trusted with Jack Morrison himself. She was pretty nice, even when Harter was discharged from the organization. He didn't know that she was still around though, and more of it, back for service. "Well, I guess I owe her."
Putting away the pistol, he sat down next to the table and pulled out his chemical vials, full of different fluids (gases, liquids) and chemicals. He began to mix them together carefully to hopefully make the serum more effective, while at the same time tinkering with his chem-gun.
"Maybe if I…?" Harter muttered to himself, tongue between his teeth as he mixed two compounds together with the main solution to see what would happen. A small cloud of acid green smoke flowed out of the vial he was testing with. "Interesting. Maybe I should test it?"
Looking around the room, he clipped the solution into his chem-gun and walked out of the bunk, heading for the shooting range. It only took about a dozen minutes give or take to reach the range. Already there was Ana, honing her sharpshooting skills, and McCree, who was practicing with his revolver, which he had nicknamed Peacemaker. Funny, when McCree was still in Blackwatch, the last thing Harter ever heard from it was it making peace. It was known for conflict. The shooting range was out in an open space, set up with training dummies, robots built to simply be shooting targets. However, even these simple robots were built with complex code, good enough for the serum to work. Over the years Harter had perfected it to be cross compatible between organic and artificial life, and now was a perfect time to test it.
How the range worked was there were about 3 ranges, one for sharpshooters, one for general, and one for close up combat. Defensive ranges were in its own separate area. Harter took up the general range, where no one else was shooting, and called up 4 robots. They all came as soon as the call was made, obediently forming into a group like little sheep.
"Alright, let's give it a run," Harter whispered to himself, raising his chem-gun and firing off a round. A small capsule launched from it, landing at the center of the dummies and exploding into a red mist, covering the targets inside. Although they had minimal intelligence, they were still vulnerable to certain responses, one of them being the fear cloud surrounding them. As soon as it had fully encompassed them, they all broke order, shrieking and twitching. One collapsed to the floor and banged at the ground, begging, while another just clutched their head and mimicked saying 'no' over and over.
"Are you just going to watch them suffer?" A old woman's voice asked next to him, not happy. He glanced over to see Ana, and next to her McCree. They both did not look happy, and Harter knew why. Fortunately, he learned from his mistakes, and he knew what he should do next. He pulled his heavy pistol out of his coat and shot 4 times, each hitting a training dummy and silencing it, ending their suffering.
"Thanks for the gun, by the way," he suddenly said, giving a small smile. "I like the style of it."
"No problem. I hope you will use that toxin for good use, and not for your own sick pleasures."
"Ana, I'm trying away from that, I swear I won't have that happen again."
"You better be telling the truth, Lukos, you better be."
Hearing him being called by his last name sent a shiver down Harter's spine, getting the message clear to him.
"Well, I think this answers my question, now to work on that antidote," Harter said aloud, whispering the last part to himself before walking back into the main building. Behind him, Ana gave a semi-what content look, however McCree had a look of distrust on his face.