This story is inspired by 'Return to Sender' written by PoeticPillock which I highly recommend you read. The story had not been updated since 2019 and so I wanted to attempt my own story similar to theirs. If any parts of my story seem similar, this is why. However, I never intended to plagiarize some of the aspects of 'Return to Sender' and for that, I apologize. Because of this, I have put and will continue to include a note above each chapter informing that this story is inspired by PoeticPillock and their story.

Changelog (31/10/22)

- Chapters 1 and 2 have been reformatted to make them easier to read.

- Additional Enclave Ending lore in Chapter 1 to fit better with the NCR and Enclave's past

The Mojave Wasteland. A desolate place without any trace of life. One look at the barren plains of mountains and dunes would make even the toughest wastelanders think twice before crossing into it. Yet despite all of its hardships, life found its way into the land that surrounded the sinful city of the old world. New Vegas had become a shining beacon of hope throughout Nevada and consequently, the west coast. Every form of life flocked to the rebuilt city. Gangsters, gun runners, caravanners, some of the richest people post-war, and some… undesirables. But the radioactive sea of sand was protected by a group of vigilantes that were known as the Desert Rangers. They were a force to be reckoned with thanks to their heritage that dated back to long-dead Texas Rangers. Their superior training, skills, and survival knowledge allowed them to protect the Mojave and its citizens for many years from many threats such as raiders, hostile wildlife, and violent tribes but their match was met in the form of Caesar's Legion.

…

Caesar's Legion was one of the largest tribes in the Midwest. Originating in what remained of Arizona, it was made up of many smaller tribes. The Legion was loyal to their beliefs and even more loyal to their leader, Caesar. Built upon the philosophy of ancient Rome, this army was nothing short of savage. Pillaging and murdering tribes that refused to join their cause, crucifying their victims, and forcing women and children into slavery. You name it, they've probably done it. Sporting old football gear as armor, the Legion was made up of various branches of Rome's military.

Legionaries were the main fighting force of the Legion, composed of able-bodied men enslaved by the Legion or born into it. They had only one purpose: to fight for Caesar until they fall in battle. This principle is imprinted into each legionary during his reconditioning or upbringing, - for those born into slavery - creating fanatically loyal soldiers. Unlike in the Roman Empire, experience and veteran status had no bearing on a legionary's position. While they received better equipment as they advanced, this was solely to accomplish more dangerous and complex tasks, with a much smaller tolerance for failure. They have no personal freedoms or rights. Their only real choice is where and when they died for Caesar, to whom they are disposable tools, discarded the moment they stop fulfilling their purpose.

One feature of the Legion is that the rank of a soldier was determined by their experience and merit in combat. The least seasoned legionaries were typically fielded first during a battle, allowing them to prove their mettle in combat. Those who survived and proved themselves on the battlefield became prime legionaries, eligible for command as a decanus and deployment as second-wave attacks.

The top ranks of the legions were occupied by veterans, who form the third wave and rear guard. These elite troops were deployed once the first two waves failed to achieve their objectives, allowing the Legion to field its most powerful, fresh troops against a weakened, tired enemy.

Veterans who proved themselves as leaders may be eligible for centurion status, becoming the deadliest members of the legion and its most skilled commanders. Each had reached their rank through their battlefield accomplishments and their armor reflected that fact - being made up of trophies taken from defeated enemies. However, they rarely entered the battlefield, as they were few and possessed valuable leadership skills, essential to maintaining unit cohesion.

The Legion had special postings and branches in addition to regular military ranks. The vexillarius (standard-bearer) carries the Legion's vexillium (banner or flag) into battle and served as a rallying point for other legionaries. The frumentarii and speculatores were the Legion's special forces, tasked with infiltration, subterfuge, recon, and other essential tasks, both of which have special training that legionaries who show promise in such matter can participate in. The praetorians were an elite unit of bodyguards hand-picked by Caesar to protect him and the legates.

With such an unstoppable force of an army, it wasn't long before Caesar set his sights on the jewel of the Mojave, or more specifically Hoover Dam. Their march into Vegas was smooth despite the wildlife retaliating and soon they sat up camp southeast of the city, affectionately named, The Fort. However, Caesar quickly realized that an opposing force had beaten him to the dam and had already secured New Vegas. The New California Republic.

…

Beginning in the small and rustic town of Shady Sands, the NCR at first didn't seem more than a group of people trying to bring order back to a lawless land, but who would've guessed that in 80 years they would become the largest standing government and army in post-war America. Based in the ruins of California with influence stretching from San Francisco to the Boneyard, the NCR had brought order to the wasteland of the west coast. However, nothing's ever perfect, especially for humans. Reliant on old-world values such as democracy, there was no shortage of corruption, lies, and cheating within the republic. Politicians lied through their teeth for votes, raider attacks were frequent on caravan routes due to resources being stretched thin, and many citizens suffered under the government's hefty taxes.

Subordinated to the president and the Congress, the military of the Republic was one of its most distinguished elements. The core component, the NCR Army, had thousands of servicemen, either volunteers or draftees, organized into divisions and battalions, equipped with standardized weapons and armor, and with varying degrees of training and competence. They were the proverbial sledgehammer, a tool used to crush enemies of the Republic and build order in the lands under its control, and a shield, protecting it from harm that may come from its numerous enemies, such as Caesar's Legion. Supported by the industrial might of the Republic and unique technologies reclaimed from the wasteland, like Vertibirds confiscated from the Enclave, they were the foundation of the security policy of the Republic. On the civilian side of the spectrum lie marshals and police formations, responsible for enforcing the law of the Republic within the territory of the NCR.

The premier unit is the New California Republic Rangers, who grew out of a paramilitary abolitionist militia dedicated to the eradication of slavery in New California. They had grown into one of the most professional and deadly military outfits in the wastes and were folded under the military command of the army. Commonly respected for their valor and skill in battle, the rangers were folk heroes and enjoyed an unblemished, heroic reputation and access to top-of-the-line weapons and armor, often coming from recovered and restored pre-War goods.

The Republic practices what it preaches and the military, like society, makes no distinction between the genders when it comes to serving in the military. Super mutants and ghouls were also known to serve in the elite Rangers. In addition, military honors are awarded for valor, such as the Star of Sierra Madre.

The people grew more restless by the day, that is until the NCR Rangers were contacted by the Desert Rangers of the Mojave. The two ranger factions signed the Ranger Unification Treaty, merging their efforts in the Mojave. With newly acquired jurisdiction in Nevada, the NCR sent Rangers on covert reconnaissance missions to Hoover Dam and the ruins of Las Vegas. Shortly afterward, President Aaron Kimball sent the NCR army into the Mojave in force, to occupy and repair Hoover Dam. Unbeknownst to either side, Robert House had begun renovations in New Vegas.

A short time after the NCR had secured Hoover Dam and New Vegas, Caesar's Legion had moved into the Mojave and set up their base of operations at Fortification Hill, southeast of New Vegas and directly south of Hoover Dam. Said dam became the site of the first bloody battle between the NCR and Caesar's legion known as The First Battle of Hoover Dam. The battle ended with the Republic's victory and the Legion retreating into the southeast of the New Vegas area of Fortification hill where they continued to prey on travelers that mistakenly step foot into their territory. Although the dam was under NCR control, they had not been able to take New Vegas. As the City of Sin was under the rule of Mr. House.

…

Robert Edwin House was the self-styled president, CEO, and sole proprietor of the New Vegas Strip in the Mojave Wasteland in the year 2281. Prior to the Great War, House was an ever-alluring, reclusive enigma to the world and a veritable celebrity with various tabloids and news articles covering his every move in business and private life. His founding and subsequent leadership of RobCo Industries as its president and CEO propelled him to the top through business acumen and mathematical prediction algorithms, gaining the envy of other roboticists and corporations through sheer success. As such, RobCo technology became ubiquitous across the former United States in both the civilian and military sectors, and greatly shaped the nation's technological progression.

As the Great War drew closer, Robert House modified himself using the latest life-preservation technology money could afford, integrating himself with the various control and defense systems of the Lucky 38, his casino, via a cerebral interface. Utilizing the Lucky 38's defense systems, House saved Las Vegas and Hoover Dam from complete destruction. Though his efforts saved the city, he was put into a coma from the excessive strain on the software supporting his brain and support systems. This coma lasted for 61 years until his systems restarted. He bided his time until the arrival of the New California Republic when he then reformed several tribes in the New Vegas area into the Three Families to turn the then-anarchic New Vegas into a civilized city again under the oversight of his Securitron army.

Starting with the Las Vegas Strip, Mr. House rebuilt several of the casinos for each of the Three Families to bring the former glory of pre-War Las Vegas back to the Mojave. With the New Vegas Strip acting as an autonomous body, he entered a tenuous partnership with the NCR as they marched into the Mojave to seize the Hoover Dam and confront Caesar's Legion.

With the transformation of New Vegas into the Free Economic Zone of New Vegas city-state, he became one of the three major powers in the Mojave Wasteland vying for total control over New Vegas and the Hoover Dam. His position to make any maneuvers strategically were handicapped as Mr. House has been running on an outdated version of his OS with the only upgrade for his systems being the platinum chip lost during the Great War. However, the platinum chip had recently been found and he contracted The Courier with the Mojave Express to deliver it to him personally.

…

All this had been the tip of the iceberg for what was to come for the Mojave. The Courier's actions had changed the Mojave in ways no one could've imagined. And his story was just getting started as he explained his journey from the grave to where he was now to the doctor in front of him. The story went on for a couple of more hours.

…

The Courier could tell that Dr. Ziegler was shocked and in disbelief. Though, he couldn't tell which emotion conquered the other. He didn't explain the whole story, just the foundation. The state of the wasteland he lived in, the factions that existed, and its… hostile wildlife. Though, even that was too much for the doctor. As he waited for a response, a buzz rang throughout the room and a deep voice followed.

"Uh, Dr. Ziegler, could you please join us in the observation room, please?" The request snapped the blonde out of her trance and readjusted her glasses. She carefully grabbed her holopad and stood up, giving one last look to The Courier.

"I'll return shortly, um, Courier," The door closed behind her, and once again, The Courier was left to his thoughts. Many things could be said about The Courier but he was not empathetic. He didn't understand what was so difficult to understand about where he came from. As he sat there, staring at a blank wall, the New Overwatch watched him carefully from behind the glass. The observation room's door opened and Dr. Ziegler stepped in. She was met with muddled expressions from her friends, "So, what do you guys think?"

"I don't think I've ever met someone act so calmly yet say the most messed up stuff in my life. Like, 'Super Mutants,' 'Deathclaws'? What the hell are those?! It sounds like something out of a movie or a video game." Hana exclaimed in disbelief. Angela couldn't help but nod in agreement to the Korean's skepticism.

"So, the short answer is he's crazy, right? Those two bullets probably did something to his head." Fareeha stated in momentary confidence. Unfortunately, Angela shook her head in disappointment.

"I would've diagnosed him as insane or schizophrenic but that doesn't explain all those items he brought with him and his suit of armor."

"I must commend the man. He told his story in great detail about the world he's from. From the way he described it, it sounds like a place where I could deal out some justice to those savages who kill all they see. Especially those 'Legion' folk." Reinhardt spoke up with a hearty expression. Brigitte merely sighed before pulling him back into his seat.

"Reinhardt, no offense, but the world he's describing sounds a little too much for you – or any of us for a matter of fact." His goddaughter said, patting his shoulder. Angela couldn't help but be amused by her friend's enthusiasm for adventure.

"If his wasteland had fantasy monsters, I'm sure the great German Crusader would strike it down," She told her friend, "Although, those 'Deathclaws' may come close. Now, what do we do next?"

The group contemplated their next move. Obviously, they couldn't let The Courier go on account of the items he had in his possession. Winston's mind wandered to this, 'Transportalponder Mk II.' If they could find a way to fix it, then they could send The Courier home. But for now, the next logical step was to call a meeting the next day, to allow everyone to handle this new information before coming to a consensus.

"We'll call a meeting tomorrow. I think we'd all like time to… process whatever 'this' is," Winston ordered. Each member nodded in agreement, "Angela," He turned to the doctor, "You, Lena, and Brigitte escort him back to his cell. Everyone else, you're dismissed."

"Great, we're stuck with him again." Tracer moaned in despair. Brigitte solemnly nodded as the three women entered the interrogation room to find The Courier staring at the wall. Angela cleared her throat and his head turned to them.

"We're here to escort you back."

"Can't move. Device is still magnetized to the table." He said, nodding his head towards the cuffs on his arms.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Let me just…" With a faint click, The Courier freely lifted his restrained arms off the desk. He rolled his shoulders, feeling a bit sluggish after sitting in that position for a few hours, "Right, now let's get you back to your room."

For the most part, the journey was silent. The air was still as The Courier's boots echoed with each step he took, drowning out his escorts' thoughts. Because of this, The Courier became more aware of his surroundings, he focused on the people around him. He had caught the British brunette occasionally staring at him when she thought he was occupied. The taller woman redhead, on the other hand, The Courier could tell she was nervous. Many people of the wasteland would give similar reactions whenever they'd see him both before and after his takeover. They would try to put on a brave face but behind the façade, he knew their true feelings. This was no different. He honestly didn't know why he had this effect on people. It got to the point where his friends would comment that he had a 'terrifying presence,' whatever that meant. The Courier turned to the redhead girl.

"Excuse me."

Brigitte jumped at his words, in surprise and fear.

"Yes?"

"Gratitude."

"Uh, gratitude for what?"

"Food you brought yesterday. Had never eaten food that tasted as good as it. Wanted to give my gratitude." His voice was monotone but weirdly enough, she could pick the sincerity out of his words. Brigitte simply smiled at the man in the brown duster, despite the circumstances.

"No worries. Didn't know you were a big fan of chicken."

"Most animals in the wasteland are irradiated. Food is never healthy. Always a downside."

Brigitte couldn't help but twitch at his mention of this so-called, 'wasteland.' She was a firm believer that the man was crazy but his genuine belief was what made his thanks more impactful to her. Tracer was a teeny bit jealous that The Courier did not thank her and was about to give him an earful when they reached his cell. Silently, the door opened and The Courier entered his cell without resistance. The trio then left The Courier to his own devices. Angela last saw him staring at the wall.

"You two don't believe him, right? The guy's mad." Tracer laughed out loud. Brigitte, while 100% did not believe in The Courier's tale, still found it hurtful that Tracer would mock what he believed in. The pilot continued to ramble on about how inane his story was, while the mechanic and doctor reminisced about The Courier's life story.

…

Winston had never been so tired yet awake in his life. The Courier's tale was like a fly in his mind, unable to swat it away while it buzzed at him constantly. He wanted to research more into this Transportalponder Mk II but unfortunately, it was not on The Courier's person when they took his stuff. The only logical conclusion was that it was lost, somewhere in the base. He glumly entered his laboratory which was now sparse as he had Echo and Cassidy store The Courier's gear in the armory and his suit of armor in the engineering lab, at the request of Fareeha, Brigitte, and Reinhardt. Though he was well aware of their intentions with it. The meeting wouldn't be until another few hours and so Winston saw to find The Courier's teleportation device. As he sat at his desk he began typing into his computer, accessing every camera feed available on the night of the fight. He clicked on the tab labeled, 'Leisure Room,' and 90% of the footage was pure static. The video cleared up to the point where The Courier exited his suit of armor. The gorilla dragged his mouse up and down the recording, speeding it up and slowing it down, trying to find where the device was dropped or hidden. To his surprise, he found nothing. Not a trace of the Transportalponder Mk II. This raised even more questions than he had hoped for. If Winston wanted the device, then he would have to talk to the owner. He was hesitant at first, thinking that maybe he should include Cassidy but pushed the idea to the side. No, he needed to do this himself.

"Athena, I'm going to talk with our prisoner. Keep my lab locked until I return." He ordered the A.I.

"Of course, Winston. Security Protocols will be activated as soon as you leave the room."

Satisfied, Winston left his lab and took the fastest route to The Courier's cell. When he got there, he was surprised to see that the mailman was not alone. Sitting on his bed was Dr. Ziegler while The Courier was standing parallel to her. By the look on her face, Winston could tell that Angela was calmly explaining something to the man rather than interrogating him again. What caught him off guard was when she laughed, supposedly at what The Courier said. He opened the door to the room and both occupants turned their attention to him. Angela greeted her friend with a warm smile.

"Dr. Ziegler, are you interrogating him further? I thought we had no more questions for him." Winston stated in confusion while he readjusted his glasses.

"Oh, Winston. I was just passing by when, um, The Courier asked to speak to me. Why are you here?"

"I'm here for… scientific reasons. You don't have to concern yourself with it. I just need to speak with him alone."

The doctor stood up from her spot, giving her colleague a nod.

"Say no more. I'll be out of your hair. And Courier?" She turned back to the prisoner as she was about to walk past Winston, which caught both men's attention, "I had a pleasant conversation with you." And in the blink of an eye, Angela had excused herself from the room. The atmosphere between the remaining two was palpable, you could cut it with a knife. Winston cleared his throat before stepping inside the room, the door sliding closed behind him.

"So… what did you two talk about?"

"Wanted to know more about your organization. Overwatch. International peacekeeping force. Heroes of the world. Want to keep everyone safe. Admirable goal. Doomed to fail in practice." The Courier commented. Winston's eyebrows furrowed at his last observations.

"And why do you think that?"

"Seen it before. NCR tried to achieve similar results. Held back by bureaucrats and democracy. Stretched too thin across New California. Unstable relationship between leaders and citizens. While army was big, heavily undersupplied. Many troops lacked sufficient training. Took minimal effort to force them out of the Mojave."

Winston was stunned by The Courier's blunt attitude towards such delicate topics. The Petras Act destroyed Winston and his friends to their core but to The Courier, they looked like another doomed and delusional group of people trying to maintain the law in a lawless world. He had a point, though. After Blackwatch was revealed to the world, people quickly began to distrust Overwatch for its under-the-table operations. But that was all in the past. The scientist was sure that he would prove the wastelander wrong through both his actions and words.

"Anyways, the reason I wanted to speak with you is regarding your teleportation device. I assumed you used it when you appeared here but I couldn't find it anywhere. If you would allow me, I could fix it for you and send you home." Winston offered to him. The Courier was about to speak before he stopped himself, contemplating his next move carefully. Why should he trust Overwatch? On the surface, they looked like people who only wanted what was best for humanity, but The Courier had met plenty of similar individuals who revealed their true nature sooner or later. Although, he had to take into account that he wasn't in the Mojave anymore. People here acted differently from those he met along his travels. In the wasteland, it was rare to come across someone who spoke honestly or didn't have hidden intentions. Because of this, The Courier developed trust issues, especially after the incident at the Sierra Madre. He was lucky to have the friends that he had, otherwise, he'd be ruling New Vegas by himself. The Courier knew, however, that the gorilla wanted something in return. It was a gut feeling he had.

"What do you want in return?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Offer is too good to be true. Expect mutual exchange of goods; armor, weapons, materials. Nothing in life is free. Always a price to pay."

Winston faltered for a second, as The Courier saw through his pleasantries. It hurt him, knowing that he had another agenda when it came to The Courier and his various technologies.

"Well… the technology you brought with you, Overwatch can't ignore it, especially that suit of armor. What's in your possession is far more advanced than anything we've been able to develop in the last five years or so. What I'm offering is: I'll work on fixing your teleportation device while you explain and help us develop similar technologies you have for our team."

"Technology I have, caused the Great War. Cannot allow for that to happen again, regardless of your noble intentions." The Courier rejected. He crossed his arms while the scientist growled in frustration.

"Regardless of that, I can't fix the Transportalponder if I don't understand how it works. I'll need you for that." Winstons retorted, proving a valuable point. Reluctantly, The Courier sighed and nodded his head, seeing no alternative solutions to his predicament.

"Fuel is experimental. Will take time to harness its power. What technology would you like to understand?"

"Your armor for a start. Our weapons barely did anything to it, except for Genji's katana. And that laser weapon you used, I'd like to know the inner workings of it as well. Anything else you provide is of your own accord."

"Fair enough. When do we-"

Unexpectedly, sirens rang throughout the base. A blur of red light filled the room and the hallway outside. Athena's voice echoes throughout the base and in Winston's earpiece.

"Warning," She said in distress, "Unknown aircraft entering watchpoint airspace. The ship's design does not match Talon. Most likely Null Sector. All agents, prepare for battle."

"Stay here." Winston ordered before he rushed out of the cell and down the hallway. As the door shut again, The Courier obliged and stood until he was needed again. Little did he know, that the fight would reach him.

…

Genji did not know how long he had been meditating. He had used this time to think over The Courier's tale. And while he did not have his master's uncanny ability to read other people's hidden feelings, Genji had learned enough to know that The Courier's presence was somewhat out of place in their world. From the way, he spoke to his movements, and his general attitude toward other people, the 30-year-old cyborg knew something was off even if his story was far-fetched. Genji had just decided to leave for dinner when Athena's alarm rang throughout his room. Without a second thought, he sprinted out of his room and down the hallway, preparing for the danger that may pop out at any moment. His intuition was correct as a group of Null Sector Omnics burst through one of the doors that led outside and immediately opened fire on him. They were the same omnics that they fought in Paris. 'How were they here?' Genji thought to himself as he threw a trio of shurikens into one of the omnics while he slashed the others with his blade. The floor suddenly shook with such force that it almost took the ninja off balance. His instincts kicked in and he ran outside to asses the danger, only to find DVa in her Meka fighting against a large group of Omnics. Before he could call out to her, an explosion occurred above him. He looked up and saw Fareeha in her Raptora suit shooting down various omnic aircraft. Genji swiftly moved through the groups of omnics, flowing like water in a river. The omnics did not have time to retaliate as they were met with a green shuriken to the face or a blade in their chest.

"Woah! Genji, you're badass! Say hi to my stream by the way!" DVa said to her Overwatch teammate. Genji simply let out a sigh as he turned back to their attackers, 'Kids.' He remarked to himself before engaging in the battle again. Another group of omnics dropped from the skies from a dropship just as it was blown up. Fareeha then flew above them before launching a blue projectile which let out a shockwave, flinging the group of robots off a nearby cliff. The Egyptian then landed in front of the man and took off her helmet, wiping the sweat off her forehead.

"Ms. Amari, are you alright? Have you been hit?"

"No, I'm ok, Genji. DVa and I have got this area covered. I saw a group of omnics manage to slip by and head into the building on the south side. I believe that's where the labs are located."

"Affirmative, I'll be off then. Keep each other safe and may this battle be over quickly."

An omnic head flew in between the two figures which then exploded when it impacted against the wall. Behind them, DVa cheered in celebration as she launched a barrage of green missiles into another omnic aircraft. The entire time she laughed.

"Yes! New high score! This is so going in my highlights."

"Ugh, I'll make sure the kid doesn't get herself killed."

"Hey, I'm 19!" DVa retorted before unloading another barrage of missiles into the sky again. Fareeha simply rolled her eyes before putting her helmet on and launching into the sky. Genji quickly left to track the omnics that infiltrated the facility, taking down omnics along the way. He snaked through the twists and turns of never-ending hallways, hoping to find his teammates. As he brushed past the training room, heard the sound of gunfire, specifically the loud clicking of a revolver. Sneaking his way in, he found Cassidy and Baptiste standing back-to-back while they were surrounded by a rather large group of omnics. The Haitian man grunted in pain and frustration as he was shot in the shoulder before he threw a disc-like object just above their heads. When it activated, it split into two halves horizontally and a bright yellow light glowed from the center.

"Stay near the immortality field." He told his cowboy teammate. Cassidy simply grunted and chucked one of his grenades into a group, causing an explosion. The two spotted the green ninja and Cassidy couldn't help but smile at Genji's habit of sneaking up unexpectedly. The ninja gave the cowboy a small wave before he dashed into the circle and began deflecting every shot back to the omnics, giving Baptiste and Cassidy enough room and time to reload their weapons. Back at fighting strength, the remaining omnics didn't stand a chance as they were gunned down.

"Nice of you to join us, Genji. And here I thought you would meditate through all this." Cassidy jokingly commented.

"I'm cybernetically enhanced, Cassidy, not deaf." Genji retorted, equally playful. As the last omnic fell to Genji's blade, the trio of men checked over their injuries and then began weaving their way to the science labs.

"How the hell did Null Sector find us?" Baptiste asked while he looked over Cassidy's wounds.

"They must have followed us when we departed from Paris." Genji concluded while he wiped the oil off his sword and chest.

"But that was almost a week ago. Why strike now if they had known this location for so long?"

"Maybe they waited for more Overwatch agents to return. There were only thirteen of you when the attack on Paris happened. Now? There are eighteen of us in one place. Take us all down in one swift move. Clever bastards." Cassidy thought out loud. Genji was mostly convinced by Cassidy's explanation but a part of his brain irked him saying that the cowboy's explanation wasn't the correct one. He pushed those thoughts aside for the time being as he switched his attention to the large doors that separated them three from the cluster of science labs. Genji and Baptiste aimed their weapons at the door while Cassidy drew his revolver in his right hand. He moved to the door console and gave the other two a nod before pushing a button. As the doors slid open, the three were prepared for a small of omnics to face but were met with an empty foyer. To say Genji was perplexed would be an understatement. The cyborg was baffled as to why there were no omnics in what was the most important section of the base. Cassidy stepped inside first, waiting for an ambush of omnics, a trap to be set off, or anything. All he was met with was the base alarms blaring in his ears. All three lowered their weapons as they approached the main computer terminal that sat at the center of the room.

"Athena, are there any hostile omnics in the science wing?" Cassidy asked the closest monitor.

"Negative, Cassidy. I detect zero Null Sector presence in this section of the base at this time." The artificial intelligence responded.

"What do you mean, 'at this time'?"

"Shortly before you arrived, there was a considerably large group of Null Sector omnics that entered the science wing, however, they did not stay here as they continued moving deeper into the base. Unfortunately, I cannot inform you of their current location or have stopped them as I'm diverting all power to the base's external defense system." Athena stated. His two teammates temporarily relaxed their stances, also confused by Athena's observation. Cassidy rubbed his beard as he turned back to his friends.

"Well, that doesn't make sense. What's close by that could be more valuable than all the science shit we have cooped up here?"

Genji then came to a shocking revelation. His eyes widened in fear underneath his mask.

"Cassidy, the prison cells aren't too far from here, right?"

The cowboy's eyes widened at his friend's question.

"That son of a bitch! He is working for Null Sector! They're probably trying to break him out!" He then slammed his fist against the wall, his arm veins pulsing with anger, "We gotta move, now!" Cassidy ordered as the three rushed into a nearby hallway. The prison section of the base was built deep inside, to discourage any breakouts or break-ins. Because of this, the route there was complicated with only one door in and out to the hallway of cells. Pairs of omnics were patrolling the hallways but quickly met their end when they were faced with the cowboy, medic, and ninja. Genji noted that the omnics were more difficult to fight compared to Paris due to the tight hallways. Their purple lasers clashed against the red lights of the base, illuminating the hallways as the three sprinted with all their haste. As the three moved deeper into the inner confines of the facility, they began to notice remains of omnics scattered around the various rooms and hallways.

"We don't know the full story yet, Cassidy. We can't go in there assuming they're here for him." The Haitian pleaded to the cowboy. He furiously shook his head as he reloaded his revolver with malicious intent.

"Like hell, we can't! I knew there was something off about him, ever since the interrogation." Cassidy growled in response as he shot three more omnics in their way. A voice in the back of his mind told him that this was not the time for irrational decisions. He couldn't let his anger take control of him right now as they fought for their lives. 'Get The Courier and then ask questions.' He repeated in his head like a mantra. Cassidy knew that in situations like this, a clear head was necessary for success but that didn't mean that he couldn't be motivated to find The Courier. Genji and Baptiste also noticed a change in attitude with their cowboy teammate; his sudden aggressiveness towards the omnics was a dead giveaway. They needed to be able to hold down Cassidy when the time came so he wouldn't do anything that he might regret. After a few minutes of fighting and more walking, they finally made it to the cell block. This gave them a new hit of adrenaline as they sprinted to The Courier's cell - or more specifically - the remains of his cell. The glass door was nothing but a pile of smoldering green liquid that bubbled like magma while the inside of the cell was filled with scorch marks and debris. Stepping over the green goo, the three could find no trace of The Courier which fueled Cassidy's already seething flames.

"He couldn't have gotten far. Come on!" Genji said as he rushed out of the cell. His teammates followed soon after. As if to confirm Cassidy's suspicions, the sound of gunfire blasted throughout the hallway, alerting the three heroes. Barrelling towards the origin of the noise, they find The Courier surrounded by piles of omnic corpses. In one hand was a brush while the other held a small golden pistol. A small scraping noise caught everyone's attention as the top half of an omnic crawled away from The Courier, its wiring dragged across the floor acting like organs. Sparks flew out of it as its hands desperately tried to flee from the man in the duster. Its head abruptly exploded as The Courier put it out of its misery with his brush gun, the mesmerizing grey and black of gunsmoke twirled upwards to the ceiling. The Courier holstered his weapons and stopped in front of the three Overwatch agents. Cassidy kept a grip on his revolver when his eyes met the red lenses of The Courier's helmet.

"How the hell did you get out of your cell?" Cassidy asked, trying to not sound hostile towards the wastelander.

"Glass was not plasma proof."

"Was that the green stuff on the floor in your cell?" Baptiste inquired, distinctly remembering the awful smell it left behind.

"Correct."

The hallway violently shook as a large explosion from outside of the base. Before anyone could do anything, The Courier sprinted past the three and out of the prison block.

…

The Courier was surprised by how fragile the robots were. Even against Maria, they fell to a couple of shots. Even Protectrons took more shots than these robots. Running down the maze of hallways, The Courier saw his handiwork of dozens of omnics dead on the ground. As he entered the science block, The Courier was met with even more droves of omnics blocking the exit. In the blink of an eye, The Courier unholstered Medicine Stick and aimed it at the group. His perception of time slowed down in an instant as if he pressed paused on reality but The Courier was all too familiar with the theatrics. V.A.T.S or Vault-Tec Assisted Targeting System. Thanks to his Pip-Boy, he was able to take full advantage of this technology. V.A.T.S didn't affect time or reality, instead, it would affect the user's perception of time and their body's reflexes, allowing them to make accurate decisions on where to shoot within the span of a nanosecond for any outside observer. The Courier looked to his opponents and then back to Medicine Stick. 8 shots and he needed to make them count before V.A.T.S ended. Logically, he chose the eight omnics that were unlucky enough to be standing in front of the group and aimed at their heads. Variations of percentages popped up on his helmet's HUD; 87%, 90%, 85%, 100%, and so on. All promising percentages but he couldn't leave anything up to luck. After confirming his shots V.A.T.S initiated its attack phase and The Courier began firing upon the robots and landed each shot in the blink of an eye. His movement was almost robotic with how he snapped his weapon at his targets. The ammunition he used was .40-70 Gov't armor piercing rounds so he wasn't too amazed that the omnics died from one shot. As V.A.T.S ended, The Courier dived forward and was able to grab an omnic before the others could open fire. He put the poor robot into a headlock with his left hand while his right hand held Medicine Stick and backed away with the robot in his grasp. The omnics didn't fire on them which he was hoping for. The Courier had guessed that the omnics were programmed to not harm each other and so he took that to his advantage. As his enemies were confused, he began firing Medicine Stick and picked off each omnic one by one. He expertly twirled the brush gun with his right hand after each shot.

When Medicine Stick was out of rounds, he took out a plasma grenade that he had in his inventory and stuck it in the crook of the omnic's neck. The Courier pulled the pin before violently shoving the omnic back into the crowd of robots. A green electrifying sphere erupted from the grenade, encompassing the large group. Each omnic short-circuited and slumped to the ground which gave The Courier enough time to reload Medicine Stick. He then pulled out his sidearm, Maria to check if he had to reload. Thankfully he didn't. As he was about to holster the 9mm, his eyes caught sight of the picture of Mary surrounded by golden patterns and a marble white cover. A suave voice echoed through his mind

"The truth is… the game was rigged from the start."

His grip tightened around the pistol, tensing at the words that haunted him ever since that fateful day. Ever since Doc Mitchell fixed him, The Courier promised himself that he would never let himself be put in a compromising situation. That he would never be outsmarted or outgunned by anyone so long as he lived, or there would be hell to pay. He would not be weak. Quickly composing himself, he let out a cathartic sigh knowing that the checkered suit bastard was dead by his hands because, unlike Benny, The Courier made sure there was no head left to fix when he shot him. Hurriedly moving outside, he was met with a chaotic sight. A pink suit of power armor flew above him shooting pink lasers while the woman in the blue set launched missiles into the air against various aircraft. On the ground, he saw a pink-haired woman, a man in thick grey power armor, and the gorilla maneuvering through the omnics together sending some flying into the air before abruptly landing on the grand, exploding into pieces.

"Ha, ha, my friends! I have not tasted such a battle ever since our glory days!" The man in the power armor yelled. His accent was oddly familiar to The Courier but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Amid the battle, the man failed to notice an omnic sneaking up behind him. The Courier aimed his weapon and shot it without V.A.T.S, just before the robot was able to shoot. The man in the power armor turned to see the omnic dead on the ground and followed the bullet's trajectory back to The Courier who continued shooting down more omnics, "Ah, Kurier! So glad you could join us in glorious battle!"

"Kurier? Doesn't that mean…" The gorilla turned to see The Courier kicking an omnic down and executing it before it could get back up, "I thought I told you to stay in your cell!"

"Omnics came for me. Disposed of them."

A flash of blue momentarily blinded The Courier before he was met with the short brunette woman but she was now in her uniform; a brown jacket, yellow spandex pants, and amber goggles. She held two small pistols in both hands which were connected to a strange blue device on her chest and back. Her face lit up in fear and shock as The Courier whipped his brush gun over his shoulder and shoot an omnic that had tried to sneak up on him, without looking. The woman whipped her head back and forth between the gorilla and The Courier before spinning her pistols which let out a sci-fi noise.

"Hey, loves? Less talking and more fighting, please?" She gave The Courier a nervous smile before dashing off into the battle. He simply shrugged at the gorilla before unloading more rounds into the waves that descended upon him and New Overwatch. Looking around, he saw the agents of Overwatch struggle to fight against their robotic foes which perplexed the ruler of New Vegas. From what Dr. Ziegler had told him, Overwatch agents were the best of the best from every corner of the globe, only enhanced by their unique set of abilities but here, they showed anything but. It seemed the sheer volume of the attack was overwhelming for the heroes and so The Courier took out an explosive that could turn the tide of the battle. A small green and yellow object appeared in his hand, surrounded by familiar amber light. It was a grenade but unlike the rest in his inventory, only three existed in the Mojave. A noticeable feature of the grenade was its signature white cross. The Holy Hand Grenade, with explosions similar to mini nukes but without the need for a launcher. The Courier had been lucky to find such a weapon during his scouting of Camp Searchlight. Arcade, with the help of the Research and Development department, had been able to deduce the properties of the grenade without him having to practically test it on the wildlife. Needless to say, it would be one big explosion radius. With the explosive strapped to his belt, The Courier ran to the gorilla and the man in power armor, taking down more omnics on the way.

"I suggest you and your team regroup inside. Will most likely be caught in the explosion if not."

"What are you planning?"

"End the fight now before lives are lost." Was all The Courier said before pointing to the grenade strapped to his belt.

"Will you be ok?"

"Survived worse."

The scientist stood still for a second, contemplating his options. The battle was not looking good for New Overwatch. His concern was his friends' lives rather than winning. Winston took a deep breath before turning on his earpiece.

"All New Overwatch agents, regroup at my laboratory. Things are getting too hot for us to handle."

A flurry of responses then followed.

"Winston, this is Cassidy. Genji, Baptiste, and I are on our way."

"It's Fareeha. DVa and I will do what we can about the airships before we retreat. Give you guys some breathing room."

"Yeah! We'll show these omnics who's boss. Plus, it's good footage."

"This is Brigitte. Mei, Echo, and I are outside your lab. We'll hold off any unwanted guests."

"Mercy speaking. I'm currently with Zarya at the launch pad. We'll make our way to you, post haste."

Satisfied with the responses, Winston and Reinhardt pushed their way through to grab Tracer and get out as quickly as possible. The Courier, on the other hand, held his position. Medicine Stick on his right hand and Maria in his left, The Courier made his stand while New Overwatch retreated behind him. The omnics unloaded mountains of lasers toward him but thanks to a combination of his agility and luck, The Courier was able to get out of harm's way. Funnily enough, this reminded the wastelander of the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, given the sheer volume of mayhem and destruction that was happening around him. As more omnics drew closer to his position, The Courier began moving to the gorilla's lab. When he retreated around the corner, he was lucky that there was only one path in and out of the area outside of the laboratory. Rays of moonlight covered the man in the brown duster as the shadows of the approaching omnics drew closer with each fleeting second. He needed to time this perfectly. Just as the first omnics rounded the corner, The Courier pulled the pin and hurled the Holy Hand Grenade with such force that it knocked the robot onto its back without bouncing back. The explosive flew into the opposing wall of another building and sprang back into the now-reformed group of the remaining omnics. The omnics didn't acknowledge the device as their attention was solely focused on the target in front of them.

The Courier ran as fast as he could to escape the blast radius. The resulting explosion forced The Courier into the air for a short amount of time. Instinctively, he crossed his arms and positioned himself into a brace position. When he hit the ground, he performed a combat roll and shielded his eyes from the burst of orange and yellow in front of him. A wave of heat and flames washed over him as the explosion settled. He was lucky that his armor had not caught on fire. It began to rain omnics as chunks of metal fell from the sky which amused The Courier in some way, it had reminded him of the time when he used Esther on some poor Jackal members who grazed his path, but without the guts and blood. Still, it satisfied the mailman. The door to the gorilla's lab opened and the agents of New Overwatch walked outside to be presented with The Courier's massacre. He didn't pay mind to the colorful cast of heroes in front of him as he diverted his attention to his weapons and began inspecting and reloading them as if nothing ever happened. Content with the conditions of his weaponry, The Courier started walking away from the group. He didn't get too far as the cowboy stopped him in his path.

"And just where do you think you're going?"

"Find another cell. Will await further instructions."

The cowboy faltered at his words.

"You weren't going to try escaping?"

"No point. Unfamiliar with new world. Better to be in the care of those who are."

"Right… mind explaining how you got those weapons and that armor?" Cassidy pointed towards Medicine Stick and Maria. The Courier lifted his left arm and presented his Pip-Boy for everyone to see. He clicked on his inventory and equipped what was called, 'All-American.' A dull slash of amber covered his right hand, revealing a marksman carbine with woodland camouflage, and a magnification scope.

"Pip-Boy uses digital storage. Connected with how much I can physically carry. Currently, can lift 180kg." The Courier explained before putting All-American back into his inventory. Each member of New Overwatch was fascinated on some level by The Courier's improbable technology but Winston was more curious than anyone. This was exactly the kind of technology he'd hoped The Courier could share with him. The gorilla cleared his throat before motioning Echo to follow him.

"Well then, we'll discuss this tomorrow. For now, Echo will transfer you to a new room. Everyone else, head to bed but keep your weapons ready for another attack. Although I doubt Null Sector would try again."

…

The sun had barely risen above the horizon when Winston called the meeting. Despite the grueling battle that occurred the night before, all agents were wide awake. They were in the meeting room located next to the base's launch pad. The table they sat at was in the shape of the Overwatch logo, with all members present. A wide array of monitors surrounded them with camera footage of the attack and various angles of agents in the fight. Tracer, despite being the most energetic of the group, was the last to arrive and took her seat at one end of the table, directly opposite Winston. Most members were idly discussing the battle that had occurred, with Mercy asking if anyone needed an appointment after the meeting. The group conversations quieted down as Winston stood up and cleared his throat.

"I assume you all know why I've called this meeting," The screens flickered to multiple images of The Courier both in his room and during last night's battle, "What to do about him." Silence was all Winston was met with as the agents of Overwatch remained in deep thought. Genji was the first to speak up.

"His performance yesterday is to be noted. Not since Morrison or Reyes had I seen someone charge into battle without flinching," Genji commented, looking towards one of the monitors that displayed The Courier wielding both the brush gun and pistol, "I can't help but think of his capabilities on the battlefield."

"I don't understand what the issue is. If it's about the tech he's got, why don't we just take it and leave him to his own devices?" Cassidy asked while he lighted his cigarette.

"Because that's not what Overwatch stands for! We're heroes, we help people," Angela shot back at her American teammate before her eyes softened, "It would also mean, without him, we won't be able to properly understand and harness his unique technology. I doubt myself and Winston would be able to make heads and tails of it, no matter how long it'd take."

"Angela's correct. The Courier is paramount if we want to be able to further develop this new technology. But this would mean we would have to give something to him in return."

"What do you propose we do, my friend?" Reinhardt asked, now in a white tank top and grey pants.

"We fix his teleportation device and send him home." Winston stated. A mixture of expressions filled the room as each member formed their opinion about Winston's deal.

"And what makes you think he'll be cooperative?" Tracer asked doubtfully. Most had noted that she wasn't exactly comfortable about the stranger and had often verbally expressed her suspicions of him.

"Tracer, he willingly put himself back into our custody. I think he understands the gravity of the situation."

The Brit fell silent at his response, unsure of what to say next.

"Is the technology worth the time and effort, Winston? I understand there's scientific curiosity but this seems like it's beyond our understanding. Even if The Courier was able to explain the inner workings, who's to say we have the materials needed to replicate his technology?" Brigitte spoke up, surprising most around her. Winston let out a heavy sigh, understanding the precarious situation he was in.

"You're right to a degree, Brigitte. We may not be able to perfectly produce his technology but even something close or similar to it will help us immensely if New Overwatch is to be ahead in technological advances, namely his suit of armor," He addressed the Swedish mechanic. However, to her, it wasn't a sufficient answer. As an engineer and mechanic, Brigitte knew the risks that came with technology if abused incorrectly and The Courier's technology was beyond her understanding and her friend's. Winston typed into his computer and the screens flickered to a series of images of Null Sector and Talon attacks, "Given what we've seen over the past couple of days, we will need his technology if we're to take down not just Null Sector but Talon as well. I've already spoken to The Courier last night. He's willing to aid in all technological manners but what I'm proposing now is that he join us on missions. As you can see, we're all that we've got right now and I don't think another member to our ranks isn't going to hurt us."

The agents couldn't ignore the elephant in the room. Everyone present was the entirety of New Overwatch. They weren't even a fraction of what Overwatch was in its glory days, so anything that could further their cause was worth considering. It also didn't help that they were technically violating the Petras Act. One of the newest members, Hana, had once thought the same as the rest of the world; that Overwatch were criminals and that they needed to disband for the betterment of the world. But with what happened in Busan, she couldn't ignore the risks the agents took on every mission just to save a country that may not even appreciate their help. To her, using The Courier's technology to further their efforts to achieve peace was necessary.

"Then let's take a vote on it. Those who vote we aid The Courier raise their hand," Angela announced to the room. Nine out of the thirteen members raised their hands in favor of helping the stranger. Tracer, Brigitte, Zarya, and Cassidy did not raise theirs, "It's settled then. We will help The Courier in getting back home while he provides us aid, both on and off the battlefield."

"We gonna get someone to act as his guard while he's out of his cell? Cause I sure as hell ain't babysitting him." Cassidy asked as he crushed the cigarette against his prosthetic hand. All eyes went back to Winston as he shifted awkwardly against the difficult question.

"I won't assign anyone to watch him 24/7, Athena can do that. His access to the base's facilities will be limited. Plus, I'm sure wherever he intends to go, there'll be someone there. If not, Athena will alert me of his location."

"Correct. I will inform Winston and the closest Overwatch agent if he's by his lonesome." The A.I. stated, surprising some of the newer agents of her presence.

"So… who's gonna tell him?" Baptiste inquired uncertainly. Before Winston could confirm that he would inform The Courier, someone else beat him to it.

"I will inform him of this exchange. I'll head to his room as soon as this meeting is adjourned." Angela volunteered, leaving most agents content with the situation. Winston looked at her with an accusatory glance but she simply shrugged her shoulders.

"If that's that, then I think we're done. If anyone needs me, I'll be at the range." Cassidy said as he stood up from his seat, stretching his arms wide. He promptly left the room with most agents following him. Winston and Angela remained, both looking over the reports of attacks by Null Sector and Talon.

"Do you think he'll be able to fight alongside us?" The doctor asked her friend.

"Honestly, I think it'll be us having difficulty fighting alongside him. You weren't there to watch him but how he fought Null Sector leads me to think we may have trouble keeping up."

…

His new living quarters certainly appealed to The Courier. Unlike his cell, there was an abundant amount of space and no glass door keeping him locked up. This time his windows weren't blocked off, giving the wastelander a stunning view of the ocean and a nearby town. The sun had fully risen above the sea line which gave him a feeling he'd never experienced before. Pure calmness. Sunlight illuminated the wastelander, leaving an intimidating shadow on the floor. The warmth he felt now was different from the heat he felt in the Mojave. It felt… comforting. He took a deep breath, fully embracing the moment while the sound of the ocean filled his mind. In the Mojave, there was never a dull moment. It was either fighting, exploring, or working. The Courier never really had a moment to himself, to stop and smell the roses. This sunrise was the first that he had experienced without the responsibilities of New Vegas creeping up behind him. The waves flowed rhythmically like a heartbeat, as if the ocean itself was alive. He didn't know how long he stood there, watching the sun continue to move higher with each minute but he was pulled out of his trance by a knock on his door.

"Enter."

Turning around, he was met face-to-face with Dr. Ziegler in her signature lab coat and glasses. Her hair was done up into a ponytail and stood in black high heels.

"Enjoying the view?" She asked following his eyes to the horizon.

"View is beautiful. The Mojave cannot compare. Understand why you chose this location," He said as the doctor moved beside him, "Reason you visited?"

"Oh, right. We've decided how we are to proceed with our deal with you."

"Want me to fight your battles. Understandable. Overwatch isn't at its full strength. Need all the help you can get."

"Yes. How'd you know?" Angela asked, taking a seat on his bed. The Courier remained standing.

"Assumed you analyzed my performance during the attack. Saw how capable I am, and decided it would be a waste of my talents if I was stuck in a lab. Have been asked to do the same before. Namely NCR and Legion contracts." The Courier explained, not taking his gaze off the ocean. Angela was once again shocked by the wastelander's detective-like nature. He was calm and collected and rarely displayed emotion. In a way, he reminded her of Morrison and Reyes before things had fallen apart. She still held herself accountable for their deaths, never properly moving on after that faithful day.

"So, do you accept this arrangement?"

"Yes, on one condition," Those last three words made Angela tense up. She anticipated that he'd ask for a weapon or some of their technology. It was something she and her fellow agents couldn't shake off when they were near The Courier: he was unreadable. A stone wall, so to speak. No one could pinpoint his motives even if he spoke honestly toward them. This is what made him dangerous to a degree. The Courier was unpredictable. He turned to the doctor sitting on his bed, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of her temple in anticipation of his request, "I need my gear."