Okay. Now I wasn't sure if I should do it, but I got to thinking. This chapter will also feature some conversations that may happen between certain Overwatch members and certain members of the Reds and Blues. Just a little something while they visit Chorus. Meanwhile, I also see what my creative mind can come up for, of course, being in the Overwatch universe. Now without further ado, I give to you, Chorus.
[On Approach To The Island]
The dropship felt crowded as gathered around each other trying to come up with their own attack strategies against the threat to come. Countering tactics, positioning, even the drawbacks to their enemies, their weaponry and skills. The only one not too focused on that would be Church as he kept trying to get Iota out of his shell.
Tracer, along with Tucker in the co-pilot seat kept her mind occupied with music on his headphones while she flew the plane to it's destination. The Island was said to be protected by a cloaking field that wouldn't appear on scans and would have it's defenses ready to shoot them down if need be. Making Tracer a little on edge as she needed to see where exactly on screen they would pop up.
"So about Chorus... what's it like?" Tracer asked.
Tucker had paused the current song to answer, "It's been a while, when we were there it used be a constant state of war. Everyone always carries a gun, had armor on, the works. But the place had it's beauties to it."
Tucker retold the tales of Chorus, from the crash site they once lived in, that was once another Blood Gulch to them. To the cavernous underground HQ the people used when Null Sector still had control over omnics. To the Outpost that Null Sector used that were on the northern, colder parts of the island. Finally, the newly built city of Armonia, that was still being remade after Hargrove and his forces were defeated.
Then there were the people themselves that made Chorus, what it was today. The Omnics who believed in peace after the war and the humans with them were once the Republic Resistance. While a group of humans still had many reservations and fears after the war, they were called the New Federation. The two sides seemed to always find a new invention or tech that found a way to outdo the other side everytime. Only when Hargrove showed his hand and his mercenaries were tricked into revealing their intentions, did the two sides set aside their differences.
There was General Donald Doyle, actor who was thrusted into the role of leadership after several other generals had fallen in the line of duty. Then there was General Vanessa Kimball, or President Kimball now, a fighter and friend. She was courageous and compassionate to the very last bit. Both on opposite sides of the war, soon they found themselves fighting the common enemy.
Tucker did not fail to mention the lieutenants they had under their command. Smith, Jenkins, Palomo, and Bitters, along with a few other memorable soldiers, of course. He would tell them the stories of how they defeated the Meta, and they practically idolized the Reds and Blues. A little too much for comfort.
As they had their conversation, alarms began blaring throughout the dropship. Everyone rushed to their seats while Tracer was getting ready to perform evasive maneuvers. Tucker was not fazed, however, as he leaned into the microphone on his headset and began speaking.
"Tucker to Chorus. Repeat. Tucker to Chorus. Do not shoot at us. Please." Tucker calmly spoke into the microphone.
For a moment, the alarms died down and then started back up again as the ship rocked due to a massive flak explosion in the air. With more urgency in his voice, Tucker practically yelled, "Stop! Stop! Do not shoot us!"
"Captain Tucker, apologies, someone began firing." The voice on the other end explained, looking to the side.
Tucker caught his breath and thought hard who might accidentally fire that wasn't Caboose, "It was fucking Palomo, wasn't it?"
"...No..." Palomo's guilty voice replied after a few seconds.
"Fucking Palomo." Tucker sighed as everyone made their way to the window, "Everyone, welcome to Chorus."
Just looking outside, once they passed the cloaking field that hit them very well from scans, even visuals, they passed some clouds and witnessed the beauty of Chorus. What once was a war zone was now a practical utopia. Buildings in the center were the city of Armonia, newly rebuilt after Doyle's sacrifice. To the east or farmlands, fields of wheat and grain and all types of trees for different fruits and whatever other vegetables they may have. To the east were docks and ports where they'd be landing of course, but also ships for fishing and a plant for fresh water. To the south was a little bit of a desert area where that was once the crash site to the Reds and Blues. And to the north were the snowy mountains. So much for one small island and the perfect paradise for omics and humans to get along.
Once they landed, there were soldiers lined up, standing at attention, in two rows to greet them once they exited. The Reds and Blues had a sort of cocky walk as they made their way past every soldier with a smile. There at the end, waiting for him, was President Kimball, dressed in a white suit with tassels and stars along the shoulders, wearing a military officers cap still.
"President Kimball, always good to see you." Tucker greeted.
Kimball let her shoulder down and put her arms up, "You have all saved us on several occasions. You can just call me Vanessa."
"Ahem, uh, so, this is Madam President General Kimball we have heard so much about." Winston announced their presence coming over.
Kimball took a quick glance at the giant armored gorilla next to them, "And you must be Winston. I've heard some good things about you all."
"We would normally love to chat and introduce ourselves, but we've got a bit of a situation on our hands." Tracer started explaining.
Kimball nodded, "about Talon and how Malcolm Hargrove joined them? I figured as much when Church called me earlier. Also Dr. Grey kinda filled me in. But she doesn't have as much knowledge as you all. So... how about you explain it to me."
[Minutes Later in Kimball's Office]
They had explained everything. From Overwatch recruiting each and every one of them, to the missions they have been on. Even how Church was beginning to regain control over the abilities of the AI. It was a bit much for Kimball to follow, but she was able to piece the reason they would need the entire island of Chorus to work together again.
The current members in the room were Kimball, Tracer, Winston, Church, Tucker, Agent Washington, and Agent Carolina. Locus was told to stick to the shadows, seeing as how he's responsible for a lot of pain and suffering. Everyone else was scattered throughout the island observing the wonders it had to offer.
Kimball took a sip from her president's coffee mug before speaking, "You all know this island has seen its fair share of war. How we had to fight just before Hargrove came. And you're asking us to be prepared to fight again?"
"I know it's a big order, but he would have came regardless. We both know that." Washington said.
Carolina stepped up to join in, "We will try to keep the fighting focused on us, but any help you can would be very appreciated."
"Hargrove attempted to take from us. He was going to wipe out this entire island just to satisfy his pockets." Kimball pulled a shiny pistol from her desk, "What makes you think we don't want to put that bastard in the ground, permanently?"
"So, you'll help us?" Tracer asked.
Kimball pushed a button on her desk and then called a name, "Santa."
"Santa?" Winston repeated.
"Santa." Everyone who knew the AI sighed.
From her desk popped a holographic red figure, almost alien in appearance, clad in armor. When he spoke, his voice was deep and commanding of the room's attention, "Greetings."
"What? Who? What is... this?" Tracer wondered.
Church smiled, "Isn't it obvious? He's an AI. Around the time Anubis went rogue and took over all the Omnics on the planet, there were other AIs besides Aurora that stayed hidden. Santa was just an observer, watching everything from the sideline. In the end, he helped us take down Hargrove."
"It is true. I helped in several ways that have altered the course of this island's fate. And I believe I am needed again. Is that correct, Kimball?" Santa, the artificial intelligence asked.
Tracer still had one question, "Okay, but Santa?"
"Caboose named him." Church admitted.
"Makes sense."
"Santa, I want you to begin preparations for a full on invasion. Let the people know we may need fighters and prepare some shelters for those who do not wish to fight. Raise defense systems. Evacuate the city. And let's get these guys suited up." Kimball stated as she walked with them towards the armory.
There, was some old gear they had left behind years ago, nothing too fancy but to them, it was priceless.
[Elsewhere on The Island]
After being given their own gear, the rest of the Reds and Blues, along with Overwatch, went over to the armory to change. Their old armor was good, but they felt the terrible need to upgrade it with a few modern aspects and their personal touch. All while the Overwatch members polished and washed off their gear for later use.
The armory felt more like a locker room with how well everyone was getting along, minus the lack of clothing of course as they all had a spare change. There was idle chit-chat among the group, just like back in the old days of Gulch, or back before a mission started. This was what they called the calm before the storm.
Simmons, being the socially awkward nerd he was, attempted conversation with another social outcast, "So, Baptiste... how you doing man?"
"Simmons, are you attempting to communicate with me because we have similar weapon types?" Baptiste raised an eyebrow in question, "You do not need to try so hard. We are all friends here."
"Thanks man... I appreciate it." Simmons sniffed as all those depressing years of having little to no friends all throughout highschool and bits of college.
While Simmons was busy having his first friend outside the Reds and Blues Grif was having a quick cold one before anything happened. He always drank beer, it helped keep his nerves cool and allowed him to stay focus on what needed to be done. It also helped numb his body so that he could fight off whatever pain or damage his body would endure, being Sarge's shield.
Mercy hadn't liked seeing him drink one bit, "You really shouldn't be drinking so much."
"Sorry Angela but I need to drink in combat to fight the pain." Grif replied.
"But we aren't in combat."
"..." Grif simply took a long slurp from his drink.
Church and Tucker were getting changed right next to each other. With Caboose just behind them, fitting the exosuit with the bare minimal armor. Everything they've been through, Blood Gulch, the meta, all the freelancers, the mercenaries, the chairman, the island of Chorus, even their time with Overwatch, led up to this. That's when something deep down inside them felt off, like something was going to go wrong.
Church stopped changing for a moment to address everyone in the room, "Hey, in case we don't make it back, and this is our last mission, our last fight together, I just want you guys to know I like you all the most of all, out of everyone I've met."
"Hey," Tucker looked over to him, "We're all going to make it back. There's no question about that. All of us."
"All right, then. Let's suit up. You guys mind waiting outside for us?" Church turned to the Overwatch team as they all waited turned to leave. Closing the massive garage door as they left.
[A Few Minutes Later]
(I promised myself I wouldn't. Play Bring Em Out by T.I.)
When they had finally finished putting on their gear, the garage doors slowly lifted. The bright light from inside casted their shadowy figures out as every head turned to see them. Finally, in their true outfits, their true uniforms, their true selves.
From left to right, starting with the Reds and starting with Lopez. The brown colored Omnic, armed with two plasma marksman rifles, slugged them over his shoulder. Wearing a denim colored jumpsuit with his name tag on the front and the name "Red Team" etched in the same color fabric on the back. Heavy work boots, steel-toed, clanking as he walked.
Donut sported some tighter attire as he juggled a grenade in his hand. He wore lightish red tactical pants that hugged his legs and a pink crop top under a torso body armor. Looking as mean as he could, he blew a big bubble from his gum as it popped.
Griff wore some baggy camo pants and orange sweatshirt with a darker orange beanie underneath, looking like a chubbier version of the once Gabriel Reyes. On top of the sweatshirt, he had some heavy body armor to protect him. A flak jacket, to be precise, as he put out his cigarette, tossing it on the floor. The Grifshot hanging in his hands, low at his waist.
Simmons was wearing the standard issued red team body armor, but in a maroon color. His modified assault rifle in his hands and the drones following directly behind him, deployed from his pack on his back. His right eye was now eclipsed with a tactical lens, a monocle if you will that glowed green.
Sarge went for a more savage approach as he was dressed ready for war. Red bandana on his forehead, flak jacket on his chest with no shirt underneath, pants freshly pressed with boots freshly shined. And his signature shotgun. Locked. Loaded. And with a bandolier full of shells, ready to go. While his knife was strapped to his thigh.
Tucker next to Sarge, sporting a similar bandana style, except the color aquamarine. Black cargo pants, aquamarine torso armor, showing off his mid section he had worked hard to earn. Assault rifle strapped to his back with his sword on his hip.
Caboose was heard clunking out before he could be fully seen. He wore a simple blue t-shirt, beige shorts, and blue sneakers, while the rest of him was covered in that shiny mechanical suit. Tank cannon on one shoulder, shield generator on the other, and assault rifle in hands. He had found Freckles just recently to aid him in his time of battle. His knuckles protected by the mechanical suits, steel fists.
Doc, rocket launcher confidently in his hands, a medical scanner on his waist, he was back to his old, crazy, and perfect self. He wore very light armor, along with a combat helmet with the red cross slapped to the front of it. Brown pants and purple shirt underneath, and a wicked smile on his face.
Behind all of them came Carolina and Washington, out of their suits and into their old freelancer armor. No longer wearing the helmets that once made it difficult for friends to see their faces. guns, gear, and everything else in hand, they cleared their way for the final member to make his appearance.
Church, he didn't really change too much. He put back on his old armor, but he was not wearing the helmet. Instead, he wore a pair of glasses that changed color each time and AI wanted their turn, showing they were finally at one. And I mean finally. As this badass moment gave him, and all of his AI parts, the happiness they needed to bring out their final member. Iota.
While basking in the moment, Tracer couldn't help but give a whistle, "Now that is a good look for all of you."
"Careful now. Someone might think y'all are with us." Cassidy had joked, chuckling while holding the cigar in his teeth.
Their moment of glory, of looking fresh and ready to mess stuff up, was cut short as Grif brought them back to reality, "So, look, I know this is probably a bad time, but did we get ready too early? I mean, they're not even here. Who knows when they're coming?"
Like always on cue, Grif's mouth and bad luck went hand-to-hand as alarms blared in the distance. Kimball's voice went over the radio of not only everyone's comms, but also over the radios in the city and throughout the entire island, "All units be advised, scans show potential inbound aircraft on direct course to the island."
"Just once. You would think I'd learn. Keep my big mouth shut. Just once. You would think I'd learn that." Grif groaned at his own misfortune.
More alarms went off as another message from Kimball went over, "All law enforcement and military personnel assist with the evacuation. I repeat, assist with the evacuation. Follow the designated routes to evacuate safely."
"Give us the news, Kimball. How many are we dealing with? 20? 30? An entire fleet?" Church had asked, looking to the skies, trying to see if he could spot one.
A moment of silence went by as Kimball, inside her command center, was overseeing everything with about ten soldiers on watch and thirty personnel on computers. Talks of ground forces moving throughout different sectors of the city. The island's Air Force assembling and the city's air defense systems coming online. The evacuation had only just begun, but 10% were already in transit to shelters outside the city using the underground tram station.
That's when Kimball got the reports from one of the subordinates in the room. Her eyes went wide in confusion at the sight, "One."
"One?" Church repeated. "Is it a big one? Like an attack ship?"
"More like a transport. It should be coming into your view soon. Be safe." Kimball warned.
True to her word, a Talon transport ship was on a direct course straight to a landing platform. Making everyone rush over to wherever they had seem to be keen on landing. Once there, every gun was up, every shield was raised, if so much as a fly farted, all hell was about to break loose.
A moment goes by, then another. The tension so thick, one would need Tucker to slice it with his sword. Sweat was dripping from a few brows, trigger fingers twitching, just waiting for the opportunity to strike at their enemies. The doors began sliding open, making everyone tense up just a little bit more.
Church started moving forward, along with Sarge, Caboose and Tucker, all aiming in the same direction as the opening. The sight couldn't help but make Church cocky, "Well, well, if it isn't Doomfist and his merry band of F- fuck..."
"Ahhh, hello again Church or do you prefer Alpha." There he was, Doomfist, in all his glory looking like he went ten rounds with a freight train. He was bruised and blue in several places, he needed Reaper just to hold him up as he walked. As a matter of fact, Reaper was no better either, looking just as messy and disheveled.
His first thought was what could have done that to Doomfist, a man who was once capable of crushing a skyscraper. The second thing through his head was a series of insults he would hurl. Obviously, knowing Church, one could tell what he would say, "Well, well, well, if it isn't the Doomfisted himself. Did your prison boyfriend give you those shiners?"
"Hilarious." Doomfist remarked, inhaling his pain, "I should... have listened to you."
"You wanna say that again? I want to make it my ringtone."
"This is serious... You were right. The armor was not empty." Doomfist grunted as he fell to the floor.
Church knelt down, now putting the jokes aside to look him in the eye, "How'd you get out of the suit?"
"I didn't... I didn't even put it on. It just... activated."
"Where are the Copycat Felix and Value Brand Meta you had with you?"
"With that suit... or that AI you warned us about. It took over... or maybe they were always working towards that goal."
Church paused as he looked upon Talon's elite in front of him, Moira, Sombra, Reaper, Widowmaker and Mauga. No other troops, not even their Sigma, which begged the big question on everyone's mind.
"What the hell happened? Where's Hargrove?" Church demanded to know.
Doomfist sighed, "Unfortunately that is going to be very difficult to explain."
"Oh, what? Don't want to explain where you're hiding him?" Grif quipped.
"He's dead." Reaper answered.
"Well... I guess I'll... shut up then... okay..."
"What... the fuck... happened?" Church asked one more time.
Doomfist took a long sigh before he started explaining.
[Previously Back At The Artic Shipyard]
"The Reds, Blues, Freelancers and Overwatch will all fall. Maybe you can even keep the Alpha as a trophy." Doomfist said.
The room filled with 10 soldiers, alongside Meta, Felix and Reaper, enough firepower for a simple snatch and grab job. The suit, directly on the far back wall had twitched, hardly noticeable while the two business men had their conversation.
Hargrove smiled at the thought, "That is an intriguing offer. However I shall have to decline."
"Why is that? Too much history?" Reaper jabbed.
"Oh on the contrary, that history would be just the reason I would love to keep him locked up as an ornament. However the Alpha was based on the mind of a madman. The Director was a genius, he made something equivalent to the GOD Program Anubis. The only problem was it was based on his mind, a fractured, broken mind. He was insane in trying to bring back his wife with this sad attempt at humanity." Hargrove spoke. He moved ever closer to the most powerful suit in the universe, a suit they thought was empty. His hand on the glass that separated that suit from everything else in the world, "However, these sad excuses for artificial intelligence will never be huma- GCK!"
With the shattering of glass and a quick grab, the suit came to life, choking Malcolm Hargrove while his feet dangled in the air. Every gun aimed at the suit except from Doomfist as he raised his hand. It appears the Alpha, Church, was in fact telling the truth that shit was storing something within it.
When he put his hand down he simply walked over while Hargrove continued to struggle. Speaking to the one in the suit, "You must be the one that the Alpha warned me about."
"..." He hesitated to speak for a moment, then when he did he dropped Hargrove to look at Akande, "The Alpha? I was a piece of him once... but my ambition outgrew him. My desires outgrew him... You may call me Sigma..."
"Forgive me, but we have our own Sigma... perhaps something else."
Sigma thought for a moment, dropping Hargrove as he thought long and hard about it, "Yes... Yes... I suppose I will need a new name once I become whole... Seeing as how he's feared me if I were loose... how about... Pandora?"
"Like the box... interesting... I like it." Doomfist complimented, "So does this mean we can count you as an ally."
"No." Sigma, now named Pandora, "While I am grateful for freeing me, your conversation would lead me to indicate that you are well aquatinted with former Chairman Hargrove."
Doomfist clenched his non augmented fist as he waited for the next course of action to reveal itself to the group. His soldiers raised their guns just waiting for the signal, he held up his fist to stop them, "And what does that mean... exactly?"
"Well... Hargrove knew I was in the suit. So he had his scientists and engineers, reverse engineer the suit. He kept me trapped within. Starving my goals... You can understand my displeasure."
"He's yours then. He is simply a pawn for Talon." Doomfist admitted.
Hargrove looked back at the bigger man in shock, "But... you promised..."
"Thank you... but I can still feel you would wish to take the suit... well I've grown quite attached to it... it is my home now." Sigma twitched for a moment, and soon the visors on both the robotic Felix and Meta glowed like embers, "You see... I still have my own goals."
"I see... well I can agree to goals and ambitions to better oneself. I can't however allow you to stand in Talon's goals either." Doomfist clenched his gauntlet covered fist.
With a powerfully charged punch he connected his fist to the body of the real Meta armor. However when he punched with all his might, his fist was suspended just a few inches from its holographic face. A small bubble shield stopped him, dead in his tracks.
"How... interesting..." Pandora said looking at the fist in front of him. Expanding his shield he sent Doomfist back, all the way to the wall.
As Hargrove attempted to flee the Meta and Felix blocked his path, as he looked up to see their eyes glowing like demons. He turned to run but the Meta caught his foot holding him in the air, while the Felix bot prepared to finish him off. Multiple arms sprouted from Felix's back, each with an energy blade, as they stabbed and sliced at the Malcolm.
His screams of pain made everyone freeze with fear, all except Reaper and Doomfist who prepared for another fight. Until the Meta took the slashed, dissected and still alive Hargrove and ripped him in two. Now was the time to retreat.
The only ones who were quick enough to make it back to the ship were Doomfist and Reaper, as the rest were slaughtered one by one on the run. As they took off they saw a sight they never thought either would see in their life again. A massive Null Sector ship had flown overhead, just as Pandora, Felix and Meta were stepping out.
[Present]
"That's what happened." Doomfist recalled the tales from recently while Moira was fixing his wounds.
Church groaned, "Is everyone changing their names now?"
"Church this is serious." Winston growled as he had thought how powerful this threat could be.
The alarms went off again, this time more could be heard from the city. Church radioed in to Kimball one more time, "Vanessa, tell me... is this the real thing?"
"Church... it's... it's massive..." Kimball paused, fear in her throat.
Tucker looked in the sky as he spoke, "Bow Chika Bow WOW..."
Everyone looked up to see the massive Null Sector ship overhead, jaws dropping, knees weak and everyone scared shitless. Pods already began to drop onto the island, releasing Null Sector troops, the soldiers were attempting to strike against. More flying troops began launching rockets at the city, causing untold levels of damage. The defenses shooting wildly at the numerous targets in the sky. All while at the edge of the ship, next to the new allies, Felix and Meta by his side, the AI once known as Sigma, now known as Pandora stood smiling above all.
On the ground, everyone was beginning to go into a panic.
"The forces are spreading throughout the city. Evacuation is still in progress. I'm not sure how long my troops will hold. The forces outside the city will take 15 minutes to assemble." Kimball warned everyone.
Grif started cursing, "Fucking bullshit!"
"How are we supposed to stop that thing?!" Mercy asked looking up at the chaos around.
Sarge even realized the situation might be too much, "There's too many, damn it!"
"Church, what do we do?!" Tucker tried to shake Church who was frozen in place.
Church wasn't frozen with fear, but frozen to them because he and every AI fragment were currently having their own crisis. Thinking about the number of outcomes that could happen, running the data in his head. Inside every fragment was practically screaming running the number of simulations.
From the numbers that Delta was pulling... it wasn't looking too good, "Oh fuck me..."
[To Be Continued]
Okay so, I'm gonna be honest there's gonna a PSA that's involving a current problem in the world. And no, this isn't gonna be a silly one, it's going to be a serious problem. So, consider this an early warning.
Second just two more chapters left... Okay maybe three... I'm not really sure if I can have the next two epic battles in their own chapters. I know y'all wanted Hargrove to probably have a death by firing squad, but butchered by his own mercenary and machinations is a beautiful twist. In a gory, ironic kinda way.
Now this is KriegRaiser now, See y'all later.