This story is inspired by Return to Sender written by PoeticPillock. I recommend you read their story as well.
Changelog (05/12/22)
- Fixed various grammatical errors in Chapter 1 & 2
I apologize for the delay. I had to take my external exams and graduate high school in November. I will be on vacation for December and January but I will attempt to continue writing during that time. This chapter was originally meant to be bigger but I've decided to split it into two parts because the thought of writing a 20,000+ word chapter sounded very unappealing. If there are any grammatical or lore errors in this or any previous chapters please notify me.
Angela couldn't peel her eyes away from the screen. Rays of moonlight scattered between the ruins of the ceiling, gracefully illuminating the interior and the platform. The medic stared in horror as a redheaded woman was violently forced onto her knees by a figure behind her with a kick They let out a hearty laugh, signifying that it was indeed a man but they couldn't make him out, as he was just out of frame. But what the agent did recognize was a gun barrel being shoved directly into the back of the woman's head. You would expect the woman in this situation to be begging for her life and bawling her eyes out, but Brigitte was no ordinary woman and Angela knew that. The cold steel of the barrel nuzzled deep into Brigitte's hair like a bird in a nest.
"Anyone so much as even moves and she's dead. Understand?" The man yelled out to whoever was out of frame. Brigitte's gaze followed the man into the darkness, giving them a firm shake of her head. The group stood on a concrete platform that connected the two sides of the temple, with various light sources illuminating it. The man was covered in black and silver armor with white shoulder pads and a blood-red helmet. Only one organization bared the specific markings and colors: Talon. It had been some time since the mercenary company had appeared in the spotlight, ever since their failed operation in Russia. Most of the world had assumed they went underground or were dismantled like Overwatch. Yet here stood one of their soldiers, with his rifle aimed at Brigitte. She couldn't recall how fast everything had gone to shit, all that mattered was that she was compromised and most likely her team was as well. She had hoped they returned to the dropship but just like her, the agents of Overwatch weren't about to let one of their friends die to their enemy. It was a new feeling for Brigitte, being captured and utterly helpless, usually, she was the one doing the saving but how the tables have turned.
"Release her now, and I may grant you a swift and honorable death." Another voice offered. It was slightly robotic but was also a man's. Judging from the volume of the voice, he was directly opposing the man and Brigitte. A whining sound echoed throughout the room as the tip of a blade could be seen pointing at the man. Green neon lights glowed brightly within the darkness, allowing Brigitte to deduce that it was Genji. She assumed that the cyborg was not alone because no way in hell would Lena skip out on the chance to get a piece of the action herself, and Cassidy had to make sure the Brit didn't do anything stupid. Various clicking and cocking soon followed with three more guns pointed at Brigitte's captor but the man merely shook his head in amusement.
"If I remember correctly, you're the ones outmanned and outgunned. So drop'em and step into the light!" He ordered. Out of the darkness, more soldiers revealed themselves with their weapons trained on the group paired with the loud cocking of their rifles. With a defeated sigh, the group walked into the frame of the video feed. Genji, Tracer, and Cassidy came into view with their hands over their heads. The cowboy in particular sporting a scowl. His look of anger immediately disappeared as a dark cloud formed next to where Brigitte was kneeling, letting out a sinister chuckle. Not him. Anyone but him.
The figure was tall, standing around 6ft 4 enveloped in a black duster with a high collar. His most distinguishing feature was his deathly skull mask that stared at the group with hatred with nothing but darkness that lay behind its eyes. Reaper is one of the most deadly and efficient agents of Talon alongside Widowmaker. The infamous mask struck fear into even the most hardened criminals and soldiers. As his name suggests, the Talon agent had left hundreds, if not thousands, of bodies in his wake. Running into him was a guarantee that you would die. And so, it was understandable for Brigitte, Genji, and Cassidy to be visibly tense at the presence of the grim reaper. The man behind the skull mask, however, was eager for a kill.
"Cassidy, you've gotten soft," His voice was gravelly and dark with a hint of amusement, "Still trying to play the hero?" A loud cocking of guns followed and a pair of black shotguns appeared out of a veil of black mist, pointed at the group. Cassidy only growled in response, not even giving him the decency of eye contact. Deep down, Cassidy was enraged at the man, wielding shotguns similar to his former Blackwatch commander, who he was close with. Commander Reyes was the man that gave Cassidy a second chance at life, albeit not the one he had in mind. But after his death along with Commander Morrison, the cowboy was given time to reevaluate his life choices. He pondered about who he was and what he wanted to be, not what Blackwatch wanted him to be. Although Blackwatch changed him into something he regrets, it didn't mean he didn't respect his leader. So to face down the imitator of his long-dead commander pained Cassidy to the core, denying him any sort of response. Tracer, in contrast, was more than happy to nag the man given their previous encounters.
"I thought you had enough getting your ass kicked. Did you want to go for a third round?" She teased with a confident smirk. The barrels of the shotguns snapped to her, jolting Tracer at the sight. A bright red laser sliced through the room, landing on Lena's forehead with a whir. At the back of the room was a woman kneeling on a vantage point with a sniper rifle pointed right at Tracer. Yep, she definitely knocked the hornet's nest this time.
"You've got nowhere to run now, Oxton. The monkey won't save you this time," He growled clearly irritated by the Brit's quips. It gave the deathly figure satisfaction, shortly reminiscing over their battle at the Overwatch museum as he let a snide smirk grow on his lips behind the pale white mask. He turned to another figure standing behind him, "This meeting did prove fruitful in the end, doctor. We won't just have your monks but dead Overwatch members as well."
"Aren't I always right? The last of them are on the ship. Let's conclude our business here and be on our way." It was a feminine voice with a distinct Irish accent. With a low chuckle, the shadowy figure looked at the soldier on his right, shotguns still pointed at the group.
"Captain, collect your men. We're leaving." He ordered. The red helmet gave him a firm nod before pushing a button on the side of this helmet.
"This is Scepter 1-1 to all Scepters, we're pulling out," He announced through his earpiece. The Talon agents were only met with static. Said soldier tilted his head in confusion and tried again, "Scepter 1-1 to all Scepters, do you copy?" Again no one responded. The dark figure eerily peered around and raised his shotgun, "Scepter 1-1 to all Scepters. Do. You. Copy?" This time a voice did respond but not one that any of them recognized.
"They're dead," A garbled voice responded, "You're next."
A loud gunshot rang throughout the room, followed by a loud thump as the soldier crashed onto the ground, his head torn off his neck by the sheer force of the bullet. Reaper spun around, searching for the shooter while Brigitte looked to the ground, horrified at the pool of blood forming underneath the deceased soldier. The ringing was still prevalent in her ears, everything else to her was a blur. A volley of gunshots ensued as Brigitte was heaved to her feet by Cassidy and sprinted like hell away from the group of Talon agents. She didn't dare look back, afraid of catching a glimpse of the corpse that fell beside her.
"Fuck me. That was his plan? Guy's just as brain-dead as I thought," Cassidy commented while he snatched his revolver from the ground. He snapped new rounds into his revolver before fanning it in the general direction of the Talon agents, stunning them. Somewhat satisfied with their escape so far, he turned back to the mechanic whose face was projected with a dead stare, "Are you alright, Brigitte? Brigitte?"
She didn't answer, her eyes were dead set on the exit. Blocking out all noise until it became a muddle of sound. It was probably the most grueling sprint of her life. Never during her travels with Reinhardt had she experienced that level of violence. Killing Null Sector was one thing but humans were another thing entirely. No doubt she would be shaken up after the mission, maybe PTSD, but for now her top priority was getting the hell out of that damn temple and away from the gunfire.
"Cassidy, what's going on in there? Cassidy, what is happening?!" Angela asked frantically over the comms.
"What happened was that your patient royally fucked up the mission!" Tracer yelled back as she blinked around, trying to distract the Talon agents with bolts of blue plasma flying through the air.
"Is anyone hurt? Is Brigitte ok?"
"I'm fine, Angela. But The Courier..." She responded while looking back. They were now outside but the sounds of gunfire were loud as ever, refusing to die down. Blood-curdling screams filled the air echoing out into the mountain range which stopped Brigitte dead in her place. Was that him screaming or was it someone else? She had so many questions yet so little time. The other three also paused at the sound, equally as worried. Despite all the missions they went on, and the fights they've been involved in, nothing had been more bloody or traumatizing than this. Just how did it all go so wrong?
…
It had only been a few days since The Courier was visited by the resident doctor. During this time, he hadn't explored the facility, instead opting to remain in his room while he decided on what pieces of technology he would give to Winston. His room quickly diverged from clean and minimalistic, to chaotic order. His desk had been covered in discarded papers and notebooks, filled with information and sketches about various weapons and miscellaneous items he had collected and studied over the last few months. They ranged from his plasma and laser weapons, to his Stealth Boy Mk II, power armor, various chems he had on him, and so on. Any other person would think they were just scribbles of a crazy man but to The Courier, it all made sense. He was just about ready to transfer his notes and items to Winston's laboratory when he got the call from the base's A.I.: Athena.
"Courier, you are requested to attend a meeting that is to be held at noon. The meeting room is located on the opposite end of the base, next to the launch pad." She said neutrally. He closed his notebook with a hint of frustration, 'Right before I provide my end of the deal.' The Courier thanked the A.I. before slipping on his Elite Riot Helmet. A day after Dr. Ziegler's visit, Cassidy and Winston obliged The Courier's request and gave back his weapons and power armor. His Advanced Power Armor Mk III was not in his room, to The Courier's concern. He had reluctantly stored his Power Armor in the base's engineering labs for convenience, although, he did not fully trust New Overwatch with his armor, given the technological difference. The scars on the armor from the fight with New Overwatch were still prevalent across the surface. He reminded himself that after the meeting, he had to visit the engineering department to get it fixed, and hopefully, they had the tools he needed. The Courier's new room was thankfully not in the prison block of the base but instead a vacant agent room. This made it easier for the ruler of New Vegas to traverse the facility. Strolling down the walkway, he caught a glimpse of the nose of a spacecraft behind a building and was intrigued by it. He had only encountered vehicles of this capacity when he traveled to Novac.
As he walked around the corner, The Courier was faced with a large rocket that was taller than the buildings surrounding it. He was enthralled by the sheer magnitude of the craft. To his disappointment, however, he had business to attend to. The Courier entered the meeting building which stood out thanks to its dark and sleek design that contrasted the main white and orange buildings around it. Voices echoed throughout the hallway, a mixture of men and women.
"All I'm saying is that I just don't think he's ready to be exposed to the rest of the world yet. We don't want him having an episode or something." The voice was distinguishably British. It was the young girl who could teleport. Dr. Ziegler mentioned her name, Tracer. Like many New Overwatch agents, The Courier could tell she wasn't warm nor welcoming to him which wasn't unusual for the wastelander. Most people he had talked to in the Mojave were either shit-scared of him or were stupid enough to underestimate him. The latter ending up buried under the blood-stained sand of the desert. A small group of New Overwatch agents stood at the other end of the room encaptivated by whatever was being presented on the monitors in front of them.
The group included Winston, Genji, Tracer, Brigitte, Cassidy, and Mercy. His presence wasn't yet known to the agents as he entered the meeting room, gliding down the stairs like a specter. It was one of the many skills he had picked up during his time in the Mojave. Being able to move without being heard was a great advantage when preparing for a fight against the Legion or NCR. In some cases, being sneaky saved his life, for instance, his trip to the Sierra Madre. God, he hated the Sierra Madre. Although, a certain scarred girl made up for the horrors that plagued The Courier.
"I understand your concern, Lena. But it'll be better to let him see our world now, rather than delay it. Besides, Angela will be accompanying you guys. She'll be monitoring his behavior and report back to me post-mission of anything noteworthy." Winston calmly said, disregarding the pilot's concern. Tracer wouldn't let up, however, stubbornly placing her hands on her hips with a scowl.
"This is our first mission since Paris and that was already a fustercluck until backup arrived. And we didn't even know they answered the call! Are you sure this is a good idea?" She exclaimed as she exaggeratedly threw her hands into the air. The scientist simply sighed in exhaustion and rubbed his glasses clean with a cloth. The dynamic reminded him of an almost father-daughter relationship. What caught The Courier's attention was what Winston mentioned. Dr. Ziegler would be monitoring him on this mission. The blonde was currently occupied by her holopad as she was actively typing on it. The mechanic he had come to know as Brigitte was fiddling with what looked like a device in the shape of a cross strapped to her arm.
"Tracer, please compose yourself. The Courier handled himself well in last night's battle. I'm sure he'll be fine with a simple pickup mission." Genji soothed the young hero with his words of reasoning, much to her dismay.
"I guess we're just waiting for the man himself," Cassidy observed before pulling out another cigarette, Dr. Ziegler instinctively rolled her eyes at the action, "Where is he, anyway? Athena, you called him, right?" He asked while lighting the cigarette in his mouth before letting out a puff of smoke.
"That is correct, Cassidy. In fact, he is currently behind you, waiting for this conversation to end."
Each member slowly turned around, like children who got caught trying to steal a cookie from the kitchen. Winston and Dr. Ziegler in particular plastering guilty and horrified faces. The Courier was indeed standing right behind them without realizing he had entered the room. He was quiet, though, not showing any physical signs of emotion. The Courier had his Anti-Material Rifle slung on his back with the silencer equipped, the sniper rifle's barrel dangling a few inches off the ground. A Light Shining in Darkness was holstered on his left, and Bloody Naps on his right.
"Courier I-um, how long have you been standing there?" The gorilla stuttered as he fumbled to put his glasses back on.
"Not offended by your reasons. Angry at your attempt to keep the truth from me." He growled under his helmet and crossed his arms disapprovingly, "Similar predicaments in the Mojave. All did not end well."
The atmosphere around them dropped. Tension rose like a rocket to the moon. Most of the agents instinctively went on the defensive, preparing themselves for an attack. Both verbal and physical. The only agents who weren't intimidated or at least put on a brave face were Tracer and Cassidy who threw glares at the wastelander. The Courier was not swayed by this attempt, having faced off against much more frightening opponents during his travels. Their attempts were at the same level as Freeside thugs.
"That a threat? Cause if so, we can end your little predicament right here, right now." Cassidy said, hovering his hand over his revolver with a hardened gaze. But again, The Courier did not falter against the cowboy's threat and simply shook his head. His arms dropped to his sides. Fingers scrunching into tight fists.
"We shall see how brave you are when nailed to the cliffs of Gibraltar, your body facing West so you may watch your world die."
"Guys please, we're on the same side here. Nothing will be achieved if we fight amongst each other." Brigitte said quickly intervening in the stand-off between the two. She stood in between the two with her arms out, keeping both away from each other, and looked to Angela and Winston for help.
"Brigitte's right. Cassidy, stand down. Courier, I'm sorry for not planning to inform you of this. Dr. Ziegler and I had some concerns when it came to how you would first interact with people outside of the base. It was simply to observe and understand your reactions." Winston managed to explain in a calm and orderly manner. This surprised the Courier at how fast the scientist was able to recover from his previous stammering mess.
"Can forgive," He said to the gorilla and by extension Angela, as he unfurled his fists, "But will not forget," The wastelander sternly pointed at Winston before returning to his neutral state, "The mission?"
"Oh, right. We believe Null Sector's attack on our base wasn't by coincidence as reports of various attacks simultaneously occurred on the night of the attack," Winston explained as he directed the Courier to look at the screens. Some were news channels reporting on the attack, while others were handheld videos filmed by witnesses. Winston then swiped on his holopad, displaying a series of images. Half contained the omnics they fought on that night while the other half were of people dressed in black with white helmets that had red eyes, similar to The Courier's, "And it wasn't just Null Sector either. Talon has also decided to come back into the spotlight. The world believes that the attacks occurred at random locations but thanks to some old Overwatch bases, we were able to access hidden camera feeds to find this," The feed switched again to camera footage displaying omnics and Talon agents rooting around old Overwatch bases, "The attacks that occurred were in proximity to old Overwatch bases. Null Sector would attack in the streets while Talon infiltrated into the bases. Whether they're working with each other or not is still uncertain at this time."
"So, where we going, big guy?" Tracer queried her friend and teammate. No longer was she keeping her eyes on The Courier but rather engrossed by the mission brief. The images on the screen were then replaced with portraits of an omnic with nine blue lights above its eyes, dressed in brown, white, and gold robes. What shocked The Courier the most wasn't the omnic's monk-like appearance, it was the fact that it was floating above the ground! It was floating half a meter above the ground without any visible thrusters which led The Courier to theorize the omnic's actions on magnets or something thereof.
"Genji has recently informed me that his master, Zenyatta, and his former Shambali clanmates had been contacted by Talon. They requested a meeting between the two groups. What they want to talk about, we need to know," The screen flickered to pictures of mountains dusted with snow and panned to views of temples and a rustic village, "You will be inserted into the Himalayas of Nepal. Zenyatta is currently living in a small remote village a few kilometers away from the Shambali temple where they planned to meet. Our objective is to get Genji's master out of there and recon on the meeting. Zenyatta has already agreed to our aid and will help you navigate your dropship through the mountain range. Retrieving him will be your first objective. After that, it's a simple recon mission at the temple. Any questions?"
"Do we know who from Talon will be there for the meeting?" Cassidy asked as he put out his cigarette.
"Unfortunately, we do not. Zenyatta informed us that they received an encrypted message with no way for Athena or I to trace its origins. Any other questions?" The rest of the agents sans The Courier shook their heads in confirmation. The screens snapped to black and the lights turned back on and gave the team a nod, "You leave in three hours. Prepare your gear and meet at the landing pad for departure."
…
The Courier was strapped into one of the Orca's seats, a series of harnesses and seatbelts wrapped around him. He had spent his free time beforehand trying to decide which of his arsenal to use. It was a delicate process as he didn't know what kind of armor these 'Talon' soldiers wore. He didn't know if his bullets were enough to go against them but from what he learned in the wasteland; .50 BMG armor-piercing rounds can turn anything into a bloody mist. The Courier first settled on his custom Anti-Material Rifle first and inspected it to make sure every part of it was up to his standard, keeping the Gun Runners' modifications equipped. When he took another look over the pile of weapons on the desk, he drifted to a carbine with woodland camo: All-American. This particular marksman carbine had proved time and time again that it was one of The Courier's most reliable weapons with great versatility. To him, it would be unwise to not arm himself with such a deadly weapon. His sidearm was a difficult decision, given that he wouldn't need to worry about holding out weapons once he reached Nepal, The Courier knew he could go all out and his hand gravitated toward the all-too-familiar gold and black revolver that could barely fit in a normal man's grip: the Ranger Sequoia. For close combat, The Courier decided on Bloody Naps. This particular bowie knife represented his struggles in the last few months. Its blood was a constant reminder of his inhuman nature and numbness to death. Though it was one of the many items he had taken from the Divide, he had used it ever since. Slipping the knife into the custom sheath he'd made, The Courier was prepared.
"Have you seen snow before?" A voice asked to his left. It was Brigitte, in her yellow and grey knight armor. Her red and brown her was done up in her usual ponytail. To The Courier's confusion, her weapon of choice was what looked like a plasma shield and a flail, which he had read were used during medieval times. Why she used an ancient piece of weaponry was beyond him.
"Town in the mountains, Jacobstown. Surrounded by snow. Was perplexing, given that it was in the desert." He described while staring straight onward. Brigitte did find it odd that he didn't at least face her when in conversation but she wasn't one to judge.
"Do you know who lived there?"
"Super mutants and nightkin. Leader was a super mutant named Marcus. Originally from New California. Sought sanctuary in the mountains. Most wastelanders dislike super mutants and nightkin. Shoot on sight."
Across from The Courier sat Tracer with a disapproving look on her face, though The Courier couldn't tell whether it was directed towards him or Brigitte.
"Sounds like someone else we know…" The pilot said, keeping a stern gaze on the man who sat opposite her. To The Courier, she wasn't so much intimidating but more so annoying at this point. He would hope that his performance on this mission would alleviate her hostility toward him.
"Tracer, please compose yourself," Genji said, who sat to her right. The cyborg, which The Courier had recently learned meant that he was half man and half machine, seemed to be meditating despite the bickering and chatter that was ongoing around him, "You can chew his head off after our mission but for now, we must remain in peace and tranquility."
"I doubt Courier can even feel peace or tranquility, given how much he acts more like an omnic than a man." Tracer retorted to her Japanese friend.
By this point, The Courier's mind was focused on the bowie knife he unsheathed. He delicately rubbed his fingers over its sharp edge, feeling the ridges and scratches from his previous kills. Each scratch told a story, a fight between him and someone else. In his own way, reliving those memories are what kept him grounded. The Courier's first kill was difficult for him. Why wouldn't it be? Taking another person's life by your own hand is something no one should experience in their life but he learned very quickly that the wasteland wasn't a story filled with heroes and villains.
The Mojave Wasteland wasn't black and white but rather a murky shade of grey. The inhabitants of the Mojave didn't have morals or compassion, they didn't ponder on the lives they've taken. At the end of the day, tribals, jackals, fiends, raiders, and bandits, however, were all animals that needed to be put down. And who better to bring and keep the peace than the 'Reaper of the Mojave' himself? To The Courier, it was his duty, his responsibility to keep New Vegas out of the clutches of those who dared to eradicate the peace it had been trying to achieve for decades. But here, in this new world, The Courier felt the same way he did once he stepped out of Doc Mitchell's house: overwhelmed. Fortunately, he had the experience of the wasteland to keep him alive but with his uncanny efficiency at killing, came the price of his being.
"We will arrive shortly at Objective A. All agents please prepare to disembark." Athena announced. The Orca dropship began to slow and the clouds soon parted. He was amazed by the view. Mountain ridges touched the clouds, with white snow sprinkled atop like white frosting on a cake. The Courier was nothing short of encapsulated by the sight. And to think that this was only one small part of this world. On top of the mountain ridge, the agents and The Courier spotted a small blur of brown structures within the sea of snow. As the dropship descended further, the structures became more visible to their eyes. It was the target village. Many of the agents were thrilled to see that they had arrived but The Courier was more cautious and observant than the others. A glaring red flag he noticed was how empty the village was. Not a single trace of life. No animals, people, or robots. It was as if the place was abandoned.
"On the ground, finally. Can never get used to sitting still for that long, unless I'm asleep." Cassidy remarked as he began unbuckling his straps. The dropship landed without a bump and everyone began to get up from their seats, with some of them stretching from their rigid sitting positions. While everyone was preparing for the quick pick-up mission, The Courier's eyes wandered across the rooftops of the village. There was something off about the ordeal. Without warning, the large see-through ramp opened, allowing him to exit first. His boots crunched against the thick layer of snow that sat above the ground which made him feel uneasy.
For too long he would walk over sand or concrete. Even when visiting Jacobstown, the snow was never this prevalent. As he quietly strode through the entrance to the village, The Courier noticed that most of the houses were boarded up or wide open with little-to-no contents inside. The only sound was the wind howling throughout the village. Instinctively, he unholstered All-American and fitted the buttstock against his right shoulder. Like his journey through the Divide had taught him, The Courier must keep a weapon in his hands whenever he had a feeling that something wasn't right, which was usually all the time. He trained the sights of the carbine on doors, windows, and around corners because God forbid he will not get jumped again.
"Where the bloody hell did he go? We lose sight of him for two seconds and he vanishes into the bleeding wind." Tracer's voice echoed behind him. She wasn't far off from him. Right now, he needed to get the lay of the land. Understanding and adapting to one's terrain is a huge advantage in any situation, and The Courier did not like the look of this village one bit. He made his way to the left side where a natural climb was built.
Once he was on a higher level, The Courier began to climb one of the main sets of buildings that spanned the entire width of the village. Reaching the top, he swapped All-American for his custom Anti-Material Rifle and peered through the scope. As he looked to the center of the village, he found an old wooden structure. It had two floors with the second floor connecting to the upper levels of the village that was built off the lower cliff walls. The bottom floor was completely exposed, with only thin wooden carvings acting as walls. Inside it, something caught his eye. A figure sitting in the middle of the bottom floor, cross-legged and… floating? Increasing the scope's magnification, The Courier got a clear look at the figure. The clothes they wore were red, yellow, and white robes. 'Zenyatta.' He realized. But why was he just sitting there, exposed to the elements or potential threats? But right now, he had more pressing matters of this own; scouting and securing the village.
…
'Where did he go?' Angela thought to herself as she walked next to Cassidy and Brigitte. They had just started walking into the village and their new recruit was already gone. It was something none of them had experienced before, like being a fish out of water. Every agent knew relatively what each other was thinking, that's what made Overwatch such an effective team. It allowed them to flow through missions like a breeze. But The Courier was not like them. He didn't think like them, he didn't act like them. They didn't know what was going through his head and so were left to deduct their own reconnaissance. Genji led the group through the village, having previously lived there before Winston's recall. The high-pitched whistle of the wind filled their ears as the sun towered above them.
"So Genji, what was it like living with Zenyatta? From the letters you wrote to me, it must've been an invigorating experience." Mercy inquired as she tuned her Caduceus Staff.
"It was the most enlightening years of my life, Angela. Master was patient with me. He understood that I carried hatred, and helped let my resentment go. It was because of him that I was able to forgive Hanzo and his transgressions. Thanks to him, I was able to find peace within myself." He monologued.
"Well, I'm excited to meet Zenyatta. He sounds like an interesting omnic. Was there ever a point he got annoyed at your jokes?" Tracer asked.
"Believe it or not but master was usually the one cracking jokes during our time together. He may even be worse than me." Genji chuckled to himself. His time with Zenyatta was engraved in his memories. Reaching the center of the village, they found Zenyatta silently floating in the middle of a temple-like structure. The omnic rotated and waved his orbs around, hypnotizing everyone except Genji who only snickered at his master's obsession with them. Although his face was covered, the other Overwatch agents could tell that Genji was brimming with excitement to see his master again. As they entered, Zenyatta ceased his theatrics and turned to the group.
"It is good to see you, Genji. Thank you for accepting my call. For this, I am grateful, my favorite pupil." Zenyatta declared as he hovered close to his student. Genji immediately bowed to him, emanating his respect and loyalty.
"I could never ignore a call from you, master. And aren't I your only student?" Genji asked as he readjusted himself.
"That may be so but it does not dissuade the fact that you are my favorite," The omnic laughed, nodding to his disciple. The rest of the team revealed themselves to the omnic who greeted them all with a bow from his head, "Peace be upon you all. I assume you are all friends of Genji. I thank you all for helping him where I could not along his journey."
"Master, may I introduce; Tracer, Cassidy, Angela, and Brigitte."
Zenyatta moved to the agents, giving thanks to each of them. Angela and Brigitte were particularly bewildered by the omnic's ability to float without the need for repulsors. That got a laugh out of Zenyatta saying that the Iris was capable of many things. Cassidy was respectful to the monk although he stated that hokey religions were no match for a good gun. The last agent was Tracer, who seemed visibly nervous compared to her comrades.
"It's an honor to meet you, Zenyatta. You were a former member of the Shambali clan, right? Did you know Mondatta?" Tracer asked while awkwardly bowing to Genji's master.
"That is correct. Mondatta was of our clan. He was my brother so to speak. How did you come to know him?"
"I was inspired by his words. What he preached stuck with me. I attended his speech in King's Row on the night of his assassination. I tried to save him but… I wasn't fast enough," Her eyes grew dark and empty as she relieved her fight with Widowmaker. Even after all these years, she carried that guilt and blamed herself for it. It was a mistake that haunted her even in her dreams. In the following days of the assassination, Tracer would find herself waking up in the middle of the night from nightmares of Mondatta's death. The cold gaze in Widowmaker's eyes, the deafening sound of the bullet being fired, the cries in the streets as Mondatta fell to the ground. It all swirled in her heart like a raging storm. She dipped her head in shame when Zenyatta moved to her, "I'm sorry I couldn't save him."
"It was not your fault Mondatta met his unfortunate end. Peace is something that will always be met with opposition. He knew this and yet persevered in the hope that we could co-exist with humanity," A single tear rolled down Tracer's cheek as Zenyatta spoke warmly, "Even though his dream has not been fulfilled, that does not mean there are those who won't follow in his footsteps," The monk gently laid his hand on Tracer's shoulder, forcing her eyes to his. Despite his lack of face, Tracer could hear the wisdom and sincerity in Zenyatta's words. She formed a sad smile for him, her eyes still watery, "But be at peace now and take comfort that he is now one with the Iris. I know that he is grateful for your actions that night, and so am I."
"Thank you. I… I really needed that." She sniffed.
"One should never be sad about something they believe in. Now, what are we to do about my brothers?" Zenyatta asked. Cassidy's eyes perked up remembering their original objective for the mission.
"The plan is we'll collect you first and you'll help us navigate our way to the temple through the mountains. After that, we could drop you back off here if you want."
"If it's ok, I'd like to join my pupil and his friends in their endeavors. My goal is to bring peace during my travels but I must realize that New Overwatch has taken a more active approach to that goal. In that sense, our paths align and so I offer my aid to you."
Silence followed, as the team - except for Genji - was ambiguous about the omnic monk's offer. The commitment made by every agent could not be broken. It was not a duty for them but rather a promise to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. That's what Overwatch stood for, and very few people could commit to its values on a dime. But at the same time, they couldn't ignore his offer, to just drop him back off to his lonesome. They looked to Genji who had already made up his mind about the offer and gave him a nod.
"Master, we would be honored for you to join us on our mission and to be part of New Overwatch." Genji said, turning back to him. If the omnic had any capacity to show visible happiness, it would be this moment. Zenyatta bowed his head to the group in thanks.
"If that is all, then I suggest we make quick haste to the temple. The meeting will begin soon."
"Not just yet, master. We are still waiting for one more person before we can leave." Genji clarified with a heavy sigh. The omnic tilted its head in confusion before its face drifted above Genji's shoulder and behind the group. His attention alluded to something that the rest of the team wasn't aware of.
"I assume it's the man behind you. Peace be upon you, stranger." Zenyatta greeted. The New Overwatch agents spun around and were caught off guard by a familiar pair of red eyes that stared blankly at them. The Courier stood behind them, motionless, waiting for them to finish their conversation.
"Jesus. Why do you keep doing that? And where the hell did you go?" Cassidy demanded. The Courier ignored his questions and turned to Mercy while holstering his sniper rifle.
"Village is secure. Scouted it. No residents. Zenyatta is the only occupant. Suggest we leave now."
"You could've told us that before you left but, good job." She huffed in irritation. Without warning, The Courier began walking back to the ship, earning a few glares from Tracer and Cassidy. Zenyatta was intrigued by the man and hastily caught up to him.
"Greetings, I am Zenyatta. I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting you." His orbs methodically spinning around his head caught the wastelander's attention who was briefly mesmerized by the sight before abruptly diverting his attention back to the pathway.
"The Courier or Courier Six. Prefer either."
"You are not like the other agents. I sense… conflict and confusion within you. You seem out of place. Lost. Both physically and spiritually."
"Too obvious?" He looked back to the omnic who was no longer spinning the orbs. It let out a chuckled and pointed to his Pip-Boy.
"The device on your arm, I cannot feel it. The Iris is capable of many things, one of which allows me to connect with the technology around me on a spiritual level. What you have on your arm is empty, hollow, dead. It perplexes me," He looked to his Pip-Boy and rubbed his thumb across the screen to remove a thin layer of snow that had sat upon it but to also gain an understanding of what the robot was saying, "Your bearings are not akin to those I've met on my travels. Granted, each person has their own way to express themselves but you… it as if you do not belong here."
"Can explain my story if you desire."
"I would most enjoy it. Thank you, Courier. May you find peace and harmony on your journey." Zenyatta thanked. It bowed its head and The Courier returned the same gesture before the two entered the dropship with the rest of the agents in tow. They took their seats, with Zenyatta moving to the cockpit to help Angela navigate. The thrusters of the Orca roared to life and the ship ascended to the skies. Sunlight broke through the windows of the ship as it glided through the clouds. The Courier watched as the tip of the mountains flew by. It was a spectacle to him, being able to see the world from such a height was a feat no one could've achieved in the Mojave. Yes, vertibirds did exist but the ones rebuilt and recovered weren't fit for high-altitude flights.
The vastness of the horizon coupled with the fresh sunlight made The Courier feel something he hadn't felt since his inauguration as the leader of the Mojave: envy. It was no secret that the Mojave wasteland was a hellscape for most. Surviving each day was a struggle for the average citizen but here, in this world, it looked like the opposite. The world from Six's perspective was drastically better than his and for that, he yearned it. He wanted the safety and security that these people had for the Mojave because he had to admit that he and the Enclave could be doing better. There was a significant increase in the quality of life both inside and outside of New Vegas but he ambitioned for a brighter and safer future, one where the killings could stop and he could put his consciousness at ease. A giggle brought him back to reality and he turned to see Brigitte snickering behind her hand.
"What?"
"It's just that you look so engrossed by the view, like a fish out of water. Angela saw you do the same thing when she visited you. Why is that?"
"Gives me time to reflect and reconcile with my actions." He said looking at his fists which were propped on his knees.
"Do you… regret killing people?" The mechanic asked thoughtfully.
"First kill was difficult. Second was easier. The rest became routine. Put no thought into it. But too much killing is bad for the soul. Only kill those who deserve it."
"Your soul? I didn't take you for the religious type." Brigitte chuckled to herself. The Courier just shook his head.
"Not me. Friend is. Killed as many as me, maybe more. Found redemption and peace in God. Envy that about him."
"What? Being a Catholic?"
"No, finding peace." He muttered to her. The conversation died soon after with Brigitte reflecting on his words. She was happy to hear more about The Courier's life but the more she dug, the more she came to realize that he may not just be a killing machine. The way he talked, acted to others, and behaved, in general, gave her the sense that he was empty or lacked purpose. His gaze toward herself and the rest of her friends gave her the feeling that he was studying them, planning to kill them should he deem it so. Right now, being in his presence was unnerving for her. He continued to watch the mountains pass by as time went on. Sitting motionless fascinated Brigitte as to how his mind worked. When their mission was over she planned to talk to him when he had the chance, and truly understand what motivated The Courier.
"All New Overwatch agents, we will soon be arriving at Objective B. Please prepare to disembark." Angela said over the ship's speakers. Tracer let out a sly grin as she spun her plasma pistols in her hands excitedly, while Cassidy groaned at the young agent's bravado. As the ship dove over a mountain, the Shambali temple came into view and The Courier was amazed by it. Landing on the outskirts of the temple, he was greeted by the sight of four omnic statues floating in the air, similar to Zenyatta. The sun was beginning to set and the light barely made it over the mountain range with the night sky taking over. With a low thump, the Orca landed and the agents unbuckled their straps. The Courier was considering leaving his Ant-Material Rifle but he paused. Something inside told him to keep it, a gut feeling. While The Courier did sometimes act on instinct, he still planned ahead and thought things through. There was a reason he won the Second Battle of Hoover Dam and the following skirmishes with the NCR. The Courier was a master tactician, not just commanding troops but leading them himself on the battlefield. So when his gut told him to keep his sniper rifle, he listened to it.
"Alright, agents. As Winston said, this is a recon operation. Keep out of sight and out of mind. Winston was kind enough to provide us with these listening bugs. Plant them in key locations and then return to the dropship," She handed each member a small silver rectangular device roughly the size of a pen cap, "We'll split into three teams of two; Tracer and Cassidy, Courier and Brigitte, and myself and Genji," Angela instructed while putting on the final piece of her Valkyrie suit. She turned to Zenyatta who was floating in the cockpit, "Zenyatta, you'll remain here. I assume you know how our communication systems work?" The omnic gave her a nod.
"Indeed. The ship and I are one. I will assist in any way I can."
"That's good to hear. If anything goes wrong, alert us. We have an hour until Talon's agents arrive, so be quick and thorough."
The six agents exited the dropship to be met with a chilly gust of wind sweeping across them. Moonlight shined across the tiled walkway as the sun had fully disappeared from the sky. A pitter-patter of stars littering around the moon. The Courier, for the time being, kept his weapons holstered seeing how it was unnecessary with no immediate threats in the area. He turned to Brigitte who was currently occupied by the spectacle of the floating statues. Entering the temple, the group was met with an impressive display of architecture fused with religious markings.
"Follow me." He instructed his partner. The duo moved away from the middle platform and into a small viewing area that connected both sides of the temple.
"Where do you plan to put the bug?" The Courier ignored her question and instead opted to begin scaling the interior of the room. Brigitte was surprised and impressed by how nimble and agile he was despite the amount of gear he had on him. In just a minute, The Courier was close to the ceiling where he planted his bug. With a muffled thump, The Courier dropped to the ground without a scratch.
"This is Courier Six, I've planted the bug." He confirmed into his helmet's earpiece.
"Excellent work, Courier. Once Brigitte has planted hers, rendezvous back at the drops-" Abruptly the roars of thrusters ravaged the temple, shaking the ground on which they stood like an earthquake, "Zenyatta, what was that?"
"My friends, I detect another aircraft entering the temple's airspace. It appears Talon has arrived early." Zenyatta specified. There was a moment of silence as the team processed the new information, caught off guard.
"Team, head back now. We'll have to make do with the bugs already planted. If there's not enough time, find somewhere to hide." Angela commanded. Without a second thought, the agents halted whatever they were doing and scrambled to find a way out. Unfortunately, The Courier and Brigitte were the closest to the other entrance and they knew. Brigitte, having never been involved in a covert operation, froze up in fear like a deer caught in headlights. Her partner, however, was anything but. Peaking his head out of the doorway, The Courier noted zero Talon or omnics present and took the opportunity.
"Courier Six to Overwatch agents, Brigitte and I do not have enough time to retreat. Will attempt to hide," He explained into his comm. Brigitte gave him a panicky look to him but instead, he motioned her over to stay close by him, "Follow me. Know a place for you to hide." The two crouched low to the ground. To their left was a small opening that led to an outer walkway and a corner that was obscured from all external points, with it only being able to fit one person.
"What about you? Aren't you gonna hide?" Brigitte asked concerningly while she snugged herself into the corner. The mechanic held on to her mace for dear life as if it would disappear at any given moment.
"Conduct reconnaissance." He countered. Before she could say anything he rounded the corner. Hesitantly, Brigitte leaned her head around to see if she could catch a glimpse of The Courier but she was too late, as he had simply disappeared into the night.
…
It was better if Brigitte didn't accompany him. The wastelander doubted that the mechanic would be able to sneak around given her colorfully loud outfit. Taking in a deep breath, The Courier switched on his Stealth Boy Mk II and his body was quickly enveloped by a transparent coating like paint on a canvas. Thanks to Doc Henry's improvements, the MK II allowed him to become completely transparent without the squiggly waves that would appear if he was observed up close. Its side effects had also been fixed with no possibility of becoming schizophrenia or extreme paranoia. The Courier could confidently declare that it was by far his most reliable utility item at his disposal. He unsheathed Blood Naps, the familiar handle flush with his grip. As he exited the temple, he came face-to-face with a sizeable group exiting a dropship similar to the one he rode in. The difference between the two was that the dropship parked in front of him was matte black accompanied by red lining.
Most of the Talon agents he saw were equipped with black and white armor with red helmets. A poor design in his opinion, having their heads exposed like that but The Courier assumed that it was meant more for intimidation rather than practicality. The overuse of red reminded the deliveryman of the Legion and their unique sets of armor. Crouching close to the ground, The Courier crept close to the overlook, easily avoiding the first dispatch of soldiers. Three figures stood out to him amongst the rather large group. A man in a black duster and hood, a slender woman with what looked like pale blue skin, and a red-headed woman with tubes running up and down her arms which led to her backpack. Compared to the New Overwatch agents, these figures produced a dark and ominous demeanor similar to The Courier. It was obvious that those three were the important individuals and so he turned on his comms yet again.
"Courier Six to Overwatch agents. Spotted three individuals amongst thirty soldiers. Two women and one man."
"Could you give us a description of the three?" Angela asked while typing into the ship's computer. By now, the rest of the team had successfully made it back to the dropship, leaving The Courier and Brigitte on their own.
"Man roughly 6ft 4. Wearing a black cloak and hood. Face is covered by white skull mask," Lena froze as she entered the ship. Courier's description, no, no it couldn't be him, "First woman around 5ft 11 in a purple skin-tight suit. Skin appears to be blue. Device on her head. Equipped with a rifle," The Brit's fist tightened at the second description. It was her, the assassin who killed Mondatta that night in King's Row, "Second woman is around 6ft 1. Wearing black tunic. Various tubes located across her arms, leading to a device on her back. Strange…" The Courier muttered the last part to himself, trying to determine the purpose of her technology. He pushed those thoughts aside and began watching the soldiers being ordered to their positions.
"Brigitte, are you safe? Are you alright?" Cassidy asked, concerningly.
"I'm fine, Cassidy. Courier left me in a hiding spot."
"That ain't good enough. We need you both back here now before things get complicated." He ordered. It pained him a bit, being ordered around like an NCR soldier but he shoved those feelings deep down and regained his focus. The first thing was that he needed to make his way back to Brigitte, and maybe kill some Talon soldiers on the way but his main priority was the girl. Sneaking back inside, there were already dozens of patrols scouring the temple. Luckily for him, the soldiers were in pairs which would make it easy for him to dispose of them. Retracing his steps, The Courier was met with a patrol heading straight past Brigitte's hiding spot. If he was lucky, both soldiers wouldn't pay any mind to the obscure opening. It felt good to The Courier, sneaking around deep within hostile territory, just like that time he had explored the Deathclaw Promontory by his lonesome. Veronica gave him a long and hefty lecture as soon as he returned. As he eased his way past the patrol, The Courier found the hiding spot to be barren. Brigitte was gone.
'Shit.' He frantically peered around her at any sight of her; maybe a boot mark or a strand of hair. The Courier's uncanny hunter skills kicked into gear as he began to scour the surrounding area for clues. He exited back into the hallway and moved around the outer edges of the sanctum. It didn't take long for him to find the Swedish mechanic awkwardly choking out a Talon soldier around the corner. Her mace handle was straddled against the soldier's neck who scrambled to try and escape her grasp but was too weak to produce any means of escape. For The Courier, it was taking too long. Any moment another soldier could walk around the corner and rain down hell upon them, and so acted on instinct. A slash of red was all Brigitte could see before a gush of blood sprayed from the soldier. It had all happened so quickly. Looking down, she saw a knife lodged deep into the soldier's neck, their hands grasping tightly onto The Courier's hands who twisted it deeper.
"Quicker to kill," He whispered as the soldier let out one final gasp before falling lifelessly to the ground, a pool of blood forming beneath them. Brigitte was more than horrified by her teammate's actions. Never before had she seen someone die such a gruesome and bloody death. Her hand covered her mouth, a vain attempt to hide away from the reality of the situation. Eyes wide upon and legs visibly shaking, Brigitte could only stare in shock at The Courier's nonchalant explanation. Casually, The Courier dragged the body into the corner, away from any lines of sight, "Need to leave. Now."
Without warning, he took her hand and dragged Brigitte behind him as they navigated their way through the temple. But it was difficult for the two agents as by now, swarms of Talon soldiers had begun entering the building with a large formation surrounding the three key figures. The blue woman, who The Courier had spotted early, used some sort of rope device on her wrist to launch herself to a vantage point, on top of a pillar. A cluster of red lights illuminated her helmet as it closed over her stone-cold face. Gently, she raised her rifle, as if she was carrying a baby. The barrel extended outwards with the side railings doing the same. A scope popped out from the top and a red laser activated. Her seemingly compact assault rifle had transformed into a sniper rifle in the blink of an eye. The Courier was amazed by such a weapon. The times along his journey in which that rifle could prove useful were plentiful and, for a moment, he was jealous of the woman for owning such a marvelous contraption. He made a mental note, to inquire about his interests to Winston once the mission was over.
"Oh god. That's Widowmaker. We gotta leave, now." Brigitte hushed to The Courier. They quickened their pace but at the cost of sound. The Courier's Elite Riot Gear could handle covert operations but with how fast he began to move, it was only a matter of time before some pieces of his armor began to scrape together and make noise, most notably his heavy-plated boots. It wasn't loud but it wasn't quiet either, and quickly, another soldier heard the echoing of another pair of shoes. Diverging from his patrol path, the Talon soldier raised his rifle and flicked on its flashlight attachment. Before he pushed further, the man spoke into his helmet's comm.
"Scepter 1-7 to Scepter 1-1. Investigating a disturbance in sector 1-B, over."
The duo froze. They couldn't afford another one, not now. On top of having more soldiers patrolling, making it more likely for the body to be discovered, the soldier had already reported on the comms. So for them to become suddenly radio silent could only mean one thing for the rest of the soldiers. The Courier hurriedly looked to his Pip-Boy inventory in hopes of something that could get them out of this situation. Clicking on the 'Aid' section, his eyes glanced over his Stealth-Boy Mk II and considered it for a moment but reluctantly moved on. It was already attached to him. That would mean time to deactivate it, unequip it from his suit, attach it to Brigitte, and instruct her on how to use it. No. They just didn't have the time. Switching to 'Misc' he found a substantial amount of shell casings. They served no real purpose to the wastelander until now.
'Could work.' He thought to himself before selecting a .50 BMG case. With a blur of orange light from his hand, the casing was revealed. He quickly inspected it, the charcoal edges of the bottom mixed with scratched-off paint. It was the perfect tool for a distraction. The soldier's footsteps grew louder and his shadow moved closer and closer toward them. Without a second thought, The Courier flicked the casing out another door that lead to the outside terrace. The light that was gaining on them abruptly snapped to the door, followed by the soldier's voice.
"Scepter 1-7 to Scepter 1-1. Disturbance may have moved to sector 2-C. Proceeding to investigate, over."
Brigitte let out a sigh of relief as the soldier disappeared around the corner. She turned to The Courier to see his gaze set on the exit. They were so close, just a little further. Instinctively, he switched his Stealth Boy Mk II back on which made his partner jump in surprise but they didn't have time for him to explain. So he took her hand and began moving again despite Brigitte showing clear signs of discomfort. Inch by inch, the duo moved closer to the exit. They were on the cusp of freedom until… A pronounced red dot landed on Brigitte's forehead. A thundering gunshot rang throughout the temple as Widowmaker fired a bullet at Brigitte's head, however, The Courier was quicker. As he saw the muzzle of the sniper rifle light up, he was able to shove Brigitte to the side just before the round could hit her. Knocked to the floor, Brigitte was dazed and confused as a swarm of Talon soldiers surrounded her, their weapons raised. She apprehensively bounced her gaze around her, looking for The Courier but alas he had disappeared. Meekly, Brigitte raised her hands in surrender and was violently hauled onto her feet by and soldier and escorted to the central platform of the temple.
…
"Courier Six to Overwatch agents. Brigitte has been compromised. Now in enemy custody. Currently devising new plan."
"What?! How could you let this happen!? I swear to you Courier if she gets hurt or worse, I'll make sure you never walk again! Do you hear me?!" Cassidy yelled into the comms. Anger coursed through his veins which popped out of the skin on his tensed arms. Not Brigitte. Anyone but her. She was like a little sister to him, no, she is his little sister and by God, he'll do anything to protect her. Angela, in contrast, was far more composed than her American teammate and so moved him off the console.
"Courier, what is your current position? Are you hurt?" Dr. Ziegler asked
"No. Avoided gunfire. Currently observing Brigitte and Talon agents. Will eliminate as many soldiers as I can. Make it easier for you to rescue her."
This is just what he needed: more complications. But it didn't matter now. With Bloody Naps firmly in his grasp, The Courier slipped into the shadows once more and prepared to strike again. By now, the Talon soldiers were on high alert. It was becoming increasingly difficult to kill any more soldiers and navigate around the patrols but The Courier prevailed, having spent a significant amount of time avoiding both NCR and Legion patrols in the Mojave. He eyed the soldiers as they passed him by, oblivious to his presence. Their armor was thick. Anything from a 5mm to .45 Auto wasn't going to be piercing it any time soon, but a .50 BMG, 5.56mm armor-piercing, or .45-70 Gov't should be enough to break the armor and whatever's underneath it. The problem was that those calibers weren't exactly known for being paired with quiet guns. And there posed The Courier's dilemma. For now, he would have to rely on his knife from the Divide until he had enough breathing room to use his guns.
"Courier, the rescue mission is a go. The team should be on their way." Angela announced.
'Lucky me.' As he stuck Bloody Naps into another soldier's neck. Quickly wrapping his arm around the soldier's neck, he dragged the body into an obscure corner and made sure to cover the wound the best he could to not let the blood seep out into the light. The Courier found himself back in the observation room where he originally planted his bug. Before him stood two tall windows that overlooked the platform on which Brigitte was currently being held hostage. She was being guarded by one soldier but the surrounding area was infested with other soldiers. Having her out in the open was obviously bait. Talon wouldn't be that stupid, or so The Courier hoped. It had been some time since he had a formidable foe, someone to keep him on his toes. After the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, most of his opponents were either dead or fleeing. Those stupid enough to stay were met with the wrong end of a plasma launcher. Raiders, junkies, common thugs. It was more of a chore than anything to eradicate them. But, as Joshua Graham had taught him, they were killed righteously.
Without warning, a loud explosion ruptured the temple and a hail of gunfire ensued. To his right, The Courier saw a blur of blue and green zig-zag all over the place followed by what sounded like a revolver being hammered.
'Overwatch, and they're as loud as ever.'
Talon soldiers left and right converged on the entrance, only to be shot, stabbed, or thrown back. He didn't help, however. Instead, he watched, analyzed, and observed. What made him and his companions such a deadly team was that they knew how each other fought and right now, Overwatch was a big unknown to The Courier. As the fighting continued, a stray soldier stumbled into the room, with a large stab wound on his shoulder clutched underneath his free hand. The Courier went unnoticed, still camouflaged by the Stealth Boy Mk II. The soldier, in a moment of weakness, hastily took off their helmet and sucked in a deep breath before letting out a shaky exhale. That was the soldier's undoing.
As the helmet rolled along the ground, The Courier flipped Bloody Naps so that he held the tip of the blade between his fingers and in the blink of an eye the knife was thrown into the soldier's exposed temple. The sound of the soldier's body hitting the floor was overshadowed by the gunfire outside the room and so his death went unnoticed. A beady pair of red eyes stared back at The Courier, as the soldier's helmet rolled to face him. Dislodging his knife from the soldier's head, he curiously picked up the helmet and met it at the eye line. He twisted it around, examining its design, and finally flipped it upside down to find a small earpiece embedded into the inside. By now, the gunfire had ceased which didn't go unnoticed by the ruler of New Vegas. But before he could turn around to observe the situation, a voice spoke from the helmet's earpiece.
"This is Scepter 1-1 to all Scepters, we're pulling out… Scepter 1-1 to all Scepters, do you copy?" Gazing back at the platform, The Courier found the Overwatch team in a stand-off with Talon. Seizing the opportunity, All-American was unholstered and was steadily aimed at the soldier holding Brigitte hostage. The voice spoke again from the helmet, "Scepter 1-1 to all Scepters. Do. You. Copy?"
Briefly, The Courier firmly pressed on the earpiece and spoke.
"They're dead. You're next."