Chapter 61
They cut their vacation short, much to Lena's relief. Thankfully, neither Archer nor Emily put up an argument towards it. Considering that the entire trip had more or less validated Lena's paranoia, she figured she had the right to be slightly smug about it too.
Archer, at least, was very apologetic for it. The moment that they had gotten on the plane back, the man had quietly apologized to her, and offered to share what he had found out while he was gone. It stopped her dead in her tracks, as the annoyance that had built up in her slowly whittled away. Not completely gone, but more manageable than before.
Because of that, Lena only had to worry about the implications of what Archer had discovered.
First off, de Kuiper was not capable of magic - "Magecraft." Archer would correct her absentmindedly - and was more of a victim more than anything. And, he was apparently part of the reason why O'Deorain had managed to do what she did.
Certainly, Archer didn't frame it as such, but she could read between the lines. De Kuiper's actions had led to those…things…getting an interest on their planet. Without him, the cascading effects, such as O'Deorain somehow getting into contact with one of them would have either not happened, or take more effort than whatever the mad scientist did.
What worried Lena the most is that they were on a timer because of them.
Archer theorized that, if de Kuiper was keeping things in check as the main door, then what O'Deorain did was let those things in from the back door. The Spirit admitted that he didn't mention it to the old man, not at the time, for fear that the knowledge that his imprisonment may have been for naught might do to him.
It was this kind of knowledge that Lena knew would have brought her low had she been in his situation. The pilot didn't blame Archer for not telling him, not in the slightest.
Still, that made finding out what had happened to all the mages any easier. In fact, the second thing Archer found only made things even stranger. Some guy named Zelretch was still around, apparently, and had been the one who's been basically solving things in the background. Archer was quite cagey when it came to the details, but he did answer one question that she had.
"So, if you knew about this guy before you met with de Kuiper, he must be pretty old, right?"
"Around two thousand years old, give or take a couple hundred."
That shut her up real quick. She did not want to mess with an immortal that's lived for that long.
Archer apparently did, however. The main issue with that was finding the man to begin with. Despite Archer being what he was, this Zelretch guy remained illusive. Or, as Lena put it, was too busy doing something else to spare time for some random schmuck like him.
And, well, considering the scale of things went above Lena's head - or above anyone's that wasn't Archer himself, apparently - she sort of understood. Two thousand years. No matter how grand, large or overwhelming things were now, they must pale in comparison to the accumulated experiences that that immortal had.
That didn't stop Archer from having Sombra use an algorithm to find any sign of the man though. With it, they would periodically parse through the billions of photos, cameras, and whatever else that could capture an image to try and find this Zelretch of theirs.
Lena questioned why Sombra already had something like that prepared. She also questioned how she was going to get the computing power required to actually go through all of that, repeatedly. Overwatch certainly wasn't going to provide it for her. Sombra only answered with 'don't worry about it' and 'zombies' respectively.
The pilot decided to not look into it any further.
Overall, they had gotten less than anyone wanted, and even less than expected. But it did pave a way to a source that likely did have the answers that they needed. All they had to do was find the man himself.
That didn't mean that the world stopped spinning, or that their day jobs got any easier.
…
They were having lunch, as it were. Archer, determined to make things up for once, had decided to cook for the entire day. Emily, having to go to work, was given a lunch box that morning, right after Archer had cooked breakfast for them. The Spirit even said that he had some beef slow cooking for dinner.
Honestly, the man could be a bit of a softie when things came down to it.
Originally, Archer only meant to cook for Lena and her wife. But then Sombra heard about it and told Angela. The instant she was told, Lena knew it was over. By nine in the morning, everyone on the strike team knew about Archer's plans. Some were quietly amused and bowed out, like Commanders Morrison and Reyes.
The others, not so much.
By eleven, Lena was joined by Angela, Sombra, Genji, Cassidy, Reinhardt and Winston as she waited for Archer to finish cooking. Archer had taken one look at the crowd and snorted, going back to work without a word. Judging by how he didn't do anything that he wasn't already doing, he had already expected the sudden influx of hungry mouths.
That being said, the all around mood was not as lively as it usually was. Reinhardt, the usual life of the party, had been morose ever since Captain Amari had been taken off the roster. He was one of the few uninvolved people that knew of Ana's current condition, the strike team having been informed by Commander Morrison. He was, of course, devastated to learn of it. While he continued his work as part of Overwatch, anyone could see that he was taking it very badly.
Not all was lost, though. Angela, as the person in contact with the doctor for Ana, had some good news for once. The medic cleared her throat, drawing the room's scattered attention. She sat with perfect posture beside a slumped Reinhardt, offering the massive German a gentle, reassuring smile.
"I spoke with the lead neurologist at the Polish facility this morning." Angela began, her voice carrying a light tone of levity, "Captain Amari is showing signs of regaining some of her memories, it seems."
Reinhardt's head snapped up, a spark of the old, booming crusader returning to his weary eyes, "She is? Truly?"
"She is, Reinhardt." Angela confirmed, her smile widening a fraction, "It is not a full recovery, and we must temper our expectations. The damage was severe, but it proves the condition is not a permanent block."
Winston adjusted his glasses, letting out a heavy, pleased sigh that ruffled the napkins on the table, "That is...quite the news indeed! It gives us a foundation to work from. Perhaps I can look into neural-assistive tech to help bridge the gaps in her engram formation while she heals."
Angela raised an eyebrow in askance, "I didn't think you were all that familiar with neuropsychology, Winston."
"I looked into it after I heard about what happened." Winston shrugged, a bit embarrassed, "I thought I could maybe build something to help her, but I will admit I'm not an expert in it."
"I can probably assist if you're going to continue with that." Angela offered with a smile and chuckle, to which the scientist nodded gratefully.
Personally, Lena was quite glad that the Captain was on the road to recovery. It was partly her failure that she had ended up that way, though Archer and Emily were adamant in explaining that there wasn't anything she could do. Unfortunately, what was done was done, and there was nothing Lena could do to help the Overwatch agent.
To know that she was getting better eased the frustration she felt with herself by a substantial margin.
The lingering tension that had gripped the room finally shattered, replaced by a collective, palpable sense of relief. Reinhardt let out a booming laugh that shook the silverware, slapping a massive hand onto the table.
"Ha! I knew the Captain was too stubborn to let a little brain fog keep her down!" the crusader bellowed, the color finally returning to his face. "This calls for a celebration! And right on cue, our resident chef delivers!"
Archer chose that exact moment to kill the heat on the stoves, the rhythmic sizzling coming to a halt. With a practiced, effortless motion, the Spirit began sliding heavy platters onto the center island.
In front of them was A massive platter of golden, crispy tonkatsu - Lena recognized them when Archer had cooked some in the past - thick, breaded pork cutlets sliced perfectly into strips, served alongside a rich, savory-sweet sauce and a colossal rice cooker filled with steaming rice. Extra cutlets were clearly designated for Reinhardt and Winston's heavier caloric needs. A mountain of finely shredded green cabbage with a toasted sesame dressing, fluffy slices of what looked to be eggs, rolled into balls, alongside some bowls of soup. Finally, next to the soup was a plate of pork buns that smelled awfully like that one extremely spicy dish that Archer had served before.
The pilot avoided that one like the plague, no matter how tantalizing they looked.
"You act like you don't care, pero you always know exactly what everyone wants." Sombra teased, snagging a pork bun before anyone else could reach for the platters, "Should I start calling you 'Mom'?"
"Call me whatever you like, Sombra, so long as you eat quietly." Archer retorted dryly, untying his apron. He plated a modest portion for himself and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he surveyed the chaos he had orchestrated, "And do not think this becomes a regular occurrence. Much as I do enjoy cooking, I'm still quite busy a lot of the time."
"My compliments to the chef, regardless." Cassidy chimed in, already aggressively loading up his plate. He tipped his hat toward the Spirit, a grin fighting past his beard.
Genji already had his lower faceplate removed, eating from a bowl loaded with rice and vegetables, "Indeed. Truth be told, I did not expect that you would be cooking such a dish."
Archer raised an eyebrow at that, "What do you mean by that?" Rather than being offended, the Spirit was curious. That didn't stop Angela from not-so-subtly elbowing the cyborg for being rude.
Genji quickly raised his hands in a defensive gesture, chuckling softly under his breath as he rubbed his side where Angela's elbow had connected.
"Peace, Angela, I meant no disrespect." Genji reassured her, turning his visor back toward the kitchen counter. He picked up his chopsticks, gesturing slightly toward his bowl, "I only mean to say that this is incredibly authentic. The crispness of the tonkatsu, the precise sweetness of the tamagoyaki, even the dashi in the miso soup has a depth that is profoundly difficult to replicate outside of a traditional household."
Genji paused, his robotic shoulders relaxing slightly as he took another sip of the soup, "It does not taste like a recipe learned from a database or a high-end restaurant. It tastes like home." There was a hint of nostalgia in his voice, tinged with mechanics as it still was, "I simply did not realize you possessed such an intimate familiarity with my homeland's cuisine."
The table went entirely quiet for a moment, save for the sound of Winston happily crunching on a piece of cabbage.
Lena blinked, shifting her gaze from Genji to Archer. She realized, with a sudden jolt of surprise, that she had never actually stopped to consider where Archer was from. To her, he had always just been 'Archer' - the enigmatic, cynical Spirit who wore a brilliant red shroud, wielded every sword and weapon under the sun, spoke flawless English, and possessed a deeply confusing understanding of the universe. With his tanned skin and shock of white hair, her mind had never naturally categorized him into any specific modern nationality.
Judging by the blank, processing looks on Cassidy and Reinhardt's faces, she wasn't the only one who had completely missed it.
"Wait a minute." Cassidy said, lowering his fork, his eyes narrowing in genuine curiosity, "You're telling me the spooky, bow-wielding ghost man is a master of Japanese comfort food? I figured you for a European or an American, chief. Mostly because of the sheer amount of attitude."
"Hey! We don't all have an attitude." Lena chimed in, though she couldn't help but lean forward, eager to hear the answer.
"Thank you for the compliments, though, I'd have to point out that jitsu wa, watashi wa nihonjin nanda. Kono teido no katei ryouri wa tsukurete touzen darou." Archer smoothly transitioned into what Lena could only assume to be Japanese, seeing as how Genji stilled for a moment. There wasn't even an accent that Lena could hear with how perfect the transition was! The cyborg's eyes were hidden in the dark of his helmet, but even Lena could guess that he was also gaping at the white-haired man.
"Hontou desu ka?! Masaka anata ga doukyou datta to wa!" Genji exclaimed, more excited than Lena had ever heard him before. Archer chuckled, though before he could reply back, Angela politely coughed.
"Mind cluing us in, Genji?" She said, though she had a wry smile on her lips.
"Ah, apologies!" Genji shook his head in mirth, "Archer says that he's Japanese, though I am curious if you're only half, considering how you look."
"I am fully Japanese, actually." Archer replied, seamlessly switching back to English for the benefit of the rest of the table. He picked up a cloth to wipe down the spotless counter, his expression remarkably casual for a man who had just upended everyone's assumptions, "My current appearance is...a side effect of my previous occupation. An occupational hazard, if you will."
Cassidy paused, a piece of tonkatsu halfway to his mouth, "Hazard? Chief, I've been blown up, shot at, and thrown out of moving vehicles, and my hair's still the same color it was in my twenties. What kind of job turns a guy's hair snow-white and gives him a tan?"
Archer gave him a smirk, "You sure that hair of yours isn't just dyed by all that tobacco you're huffing?"
"Now them's fightin' words!"
…
The conversation continued, though Archer was still pretty closed off with answering too many questions about his childhood. They did needle him enough to admit that he had lived his childhood in a place called Fuyuki, a city that only Genji seemed to recognize. Along with the fact that he was good at cooking because his father could somehow burn ice cubes.
Beyond that, it was quite surreal for Lena to think about Archer having a childhood like that. She always thought of him as he was now. A Heroic Spirit and nothing else. It never occurred to her that he still had a life beyond what she knew of him, before everything. Before that hill of swords that she met him on.
It was sobering, but enlightening in equal parts. Sadly, their conversation would be cut short as their duties called them to work. Especially duties that required the entire team to report to the commanders.
She'd have to tell the story to Emily at a later date, then.
Lena would only later remember that Archer never answered Cassidy's question.
Chapter 62
"Isn't this, you know, out of our realm of expertise?" Lena didn't often make it a point to question her superiors' right to their faces, but the Overwatch Strike Team was flat enough in hierarchy that, after a few months of joining, she at least felt comfortable to do so.
The same, it seems, went for the commanders themselves, who had become less and less of the untouchable figures that she once saw them as. Somewhere along the line, while the respect she had for them and their orders still remained, she had started to also see them as a sort of equal.
Which is why she was comfortable asking questions, especially when it comes to matters like this.
When Commander Morrison had called them in, Lena had expected another mission. Failing that, an update on the many, many missions that had loose ends that needed to be tied. Failing that, something regarding Archer doing something ridiculous and borderline illegal.
Lena did not expect being told that she was going to be playing babysitter for a bunch of might-as-well-be interns.
"Unfortunately, we don't really have a choice in the matter." It was Commander Reyes that spoke up, looking as though he would rather be doing literally anything else, "Apparently, with all of the backlash regarding the Blackwatch incident, the suits up in the UN decided that Overwatch needs some better PR."
"That was months ago!" Reinhardt spoke up, equally confused, though at least the crusader looked much more excited than Lena, "We do this now and we'll just put the incident back in the limelight!"
"Yeah, well, bureaucracy is slow as all hell." Reyes rolled his eyes, "Trust me, I'm not happy with this either. But…" He trailed off, nudging his head towards the other commander.
Morrison picked up where he left off, "After what happened to Ana, me and Reyes decided that this was the best option, even if it's not ideal." He nodded specifically to Reinhardt, eyeing the crusader with a small frown.
"As it stands, the current average age of Overwatch as a whole is around forty. It's even worse for this strike team, which has an average of forty-five. I shouldn't need to tell you this, but this is significantly higher than any on-the-ground force should have any right to be." Morrison sighed as he scratched his head in abject frustration, "Unfortunately, even with both Talon and Null Sector being threats, we just aren't getting any new recruits to fill out the ranks."
"That ain't right." Cassidy piped up from where he was sitting, "I saw some new guys trainin' downstairs. Can't be that bad, can it?"
"I should reiterate for clarity then." Morrison nodded, "We're not getting any new recruits for the strike team specifically. In fact, we barely get a new member every five or so years, bar some extenuating circumstances. Even then, usually, those members that we do get were from some other Overwatch branch, which doesn't actually get us any newblood."
"If things continue the way they are, it's highly likely that either me or Morrison are going to die without having a proper replacement." Reyes scowled in distaste, "'Cause I'll be honest; I don't think any of you are fit for strategic leadership."
Lena didn't wince at that. Neither did anyone else in the room. Every single one of them knew that they were better as boots on the ground, rather than leading the strategic whole of the strike team. They knew what to do when they were fighting, but not so much when it came to long term planning.
Even Archer, Heroic Spirit that he was, looked like he agreed with Reyes' assessment.
"Yeah, that's what I thought." Reyes laughed mirthlessly.
"At any rate," Morrison threw a glare towards Reyes, "We've come to the conclusion that, if we want any chance of combating Talon or Null Sector, we have three options. One, we pump up recruitment for the strike team."
"Difficult, but not impossible." Reyes pointed out, "The main problem being that those that we'd want to be on the team are usually already affiliated with some other organization, and we don't make it a point to steal talent from them - breeds discontent and whatnot."
"Second option, we support the regional branches more heavily." Morrison continued, his voice dropping an octave as he leveled his gaze at the table, "We pour funding into local militias, secondary security forces, and national academies, hoping a diamond in the rough stands out and climbs the ranks naturally. But that takes time and money. Both of which the UN isn't giving us, and Talon is actively stealing from us."
He paused, resting his palms flat against the steel surface of the briefing table.
"Which brings us to the third option. We actively cultivate the next generation ourselves. A specialized, fast-tracked program. A junior strike team trained directly under our supervision, designed for up-and-coming specialists from around the world."
"With the UN having too much of a say in things, of course." Reyes rolled his eyes, which Morrison acknowledged with his own grimace.
"Reyes is right in that regard as well. The candidates we'll be taking are those that are exclusively approved by the UN Security Council." There was a collective groan at that. While the strike team wasn't embroiled in politics too much, that didn't mean it was completely isolated.
A lot of the time, the meddling of the UN was kept to a minimum thanks to the efforts of the commanders and Captain Amari. However, ever since her publicized 'death', the credibility of the remaining Overwatch leaders was put into question. That's on top of the public outcry against Blackwatch.
Simply put, as more and more time passed, the soft power that the strike team had was being slowly whittled away. It was even more obvious when the UN decided to mess with things that would otherwise be better left alone.
Overwatch in its entirety was one of those.
Lena wasn't blind. While she may have once viewed Overwatch as an infallible bastion of justice, that was only when she was a kid. Nowadays, she knew that, for all the good that Overwatch did, there was still a hidden underbelly that lurked underneath it all.
Politics was as dirty as ever, and its influence was obvious once you looked past the strike team. Overwatch, in remote areas where they were needed, were not present. The people that needed them the most would not get their help, because the powers that be decided they were not worth the time, effort and money to do so.
Bribes and under the table negotiations were not uncommon to read about. Before the Blackwatch scandal, however, they had been treated as nothing more than one-offs. Where there was only a certain person, or group, being corrupt, and not Overwatch as a whole.
It changed when Null Sector attacked.
Or rather, when Overwatch had moved to assist against the London Uprising. See, Lena didn't know it at the time, but when she and the other members of the unit deployed the EMP to stop the invasion, they were technically doing so illegally.
Commander Morrison had not actually gotten permission from the Prime Minister, at the time, for Overwatch to be deployed like that. Despite the lives already taken by Null Sector, the politicians in Downing Street claimed that those lost lives were the fault of Overwatch intervening. That their actions inevitably led to the deaths that they had worked so hard to prevent.
Needless to say, Lena and Emily were up all night, with the pilot ranting and raving about it.
Of course, nobody actually believed that tripe. Everyone that had been at the heart of it, including the mayor, lambasted that opinion more times than Lena had bothered to count.
It was only the Blackwatch incident that blew everything out of the water.
Suddenly, Overwatch doing something illegal wasn't just a one and done deal. They had set a precedence that quickly brought their actions during the Uprising into public scrutiny. This time, the people that once defended them found themselves facing accusations that they were being bribed by Overwatch itself.
It was an ugly, inescapable truth. Overwatch was no longer the golden shield of humanity. It was a political bargaining chip, heavily tarnished and desperate for a new coat of paint.
"And because it's the UN Security Council signing the checks," Morrison's voice cut through Lena's spiraling thoughts, grounding her back in the sterile, air-conditioned chill of the briefing room, "They are the ones supplying the shortlist of candidates. We have limited veto power. If we reject too many, they pull the funding and instate oversight committees."
"So they're handpicking our recruits based on what? Polling numbers?" Cassidy scoffed, lighting a cigar despite the glaring No Smoking sign flashing above the holotable. Reyes didn't stop him. He just looked tired, "Next thing you know, they'll be givin' us pop stars and actors with a good jawline."
Morrison and Reyes shared a look. Lena did not like the silence that permeated between them.
Eventually, the standoff was broken, Morrison coughing lightly, "...I'm not gonna sugarcoat this, and I understand your protests - and there will be protests, I don't doubt it - but our hands are tied."
Morrison tapped a command code into the holotable console. The central blue grid flickered, dissolved, and expanded into five floating, high-resolution personnel files. Personal data, military service numbers, and high-definition portraits hovered in static projection above the steel table.
Cassidy stopped mid-drag, his cigar hovering inches from his mouth. His jaw slacked just enough for a thin wisp of grey smoke to curl up past his eyes, "You gotta be shittin' me."
"Is that...is that a child?" Reinhardt's voice cracked. The massive crusader leaned so far over the table his chair creaked dangerously. Lena couldn't say anything about the others to her side, Angela and Genji included. She was too busy doing the same as Reinhardt.
NAME: Song, Hana (" ")
AGE: 16
AFFILIATION: ROK Army / MEKA (Mobile Exo-Force of the Korean Army)
PRIOR OCCUPATION: Professional Esports Athlete
CURRENT STATUS: Trainee Combat Pilot – MEKA Unit #01
Flanking her profile were four others. Kyung-soo Han ("King"), Seung-hwa Kang ("Overlord"), Yuna Lee (" "), and Jae-eun Kwon ("Casino"). The oldest among them was barely twenty-four.
Cassidy's fist slammed on the table, "Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?!"
"They are children, Jack!" Reinhardt roared, his voice echoing off the reinforced walls, entirely stripped of its usual jovial warmth. "A sixteen-year-old girl? A professional game player? This is not a PR stunt, this is a war crime! We are supposed to be their shield, not their-their whatever this is supposed to be!"
"Don't you think I know that?!" Morrison barked back, his own voice rising to match the German's thunder. He leaned over the table, his face drawn and exhausted, "You think I want to send a teenager into a live-fire zone? I fought tooth and nail against the council on this, Reinhardt. Believe me, I tried!"
"Then why are their faces on our table, Commander?" Angela's voice was much quieter than Reinhardt's, but it cut through the room like a scalpel, "Neurologically, a sixteen-year-old's frontal lobe isn't even fully developed. The trauma of active combat..."
"As disturbing as it is, South Korea didn't have a choice, Angela, and neither do we." Reyes interrupted, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. He rubbed his temples, looking at the holograms with thinly veiled disgust, "Look at the intel reports out of the East China Sea. The Gwishin are still active, and every time the ROK military sends in automated drones to try and deal with them, the Gwishin slice their networks, hijack the mechs, and turn them on Seoul."
The Gwishin. The last, large scale remnant of the Omnic Crisis. Of course Lena had heard of it. An entire Omnium located beneath the East China Sea, so far below the ocean that any attempts at sending people to deal with them would put them at the mercy of an endless Omnic tide.
Every few months, there would be a news report from South Korea, about the damage that the Gwishin Omnics would cause to the country. She even remembered watching the news the first time Overwatch encountered them. The first time Overwatch lost against the Gwishin, owing to their inexperience at fighting on open water.
It was years ago, and news of the Gwishin became more and more of a norm that Lena didn't bother to really pay any attention to. She wished she had, now.
Morrison nodded grimly, tapping another key to bring up footage of a massive, squid-like Omnic tearing through a naval blockade, "The only way to fight them was to take the AI out of the equation. They built the MEKA suits to be piloted manually. But the control interfaces are too complex. The reaction times required to pilot a bipedal weapons platform in three-dimensional space while managing asymmetrical weapon systems..."
"Neither me nor Jack could make heads or tails of the damn system." Reyes admitted with some reluctance, "And if two enhanced super-soldiers with decades of combat experience can't process the sheer sensory overload of those neural links, a regular human doesn't stand a snowball's chance in hell."
Reyes leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes locked on the flickering hologram of the sixteen-year-old girl, "They needed minds that were already wired for hyper-speed simulation. Kids who spend eighteen hours a day tracking ninety different variables on a screen without their brains turning to mush. The South Korean government didn't draft them because they wanted to - they drafted them because the human nervous system is the only computer the Gwishin can't hack."
"So they put children in weaponized tin cans and call it a defense program." Angela said, her voice trembling with a quiet, furious heat. Genji tried to calm her down, but she shrugged off his hand as she stood up, her knuckles white as she pressed them against the table, "Commanders, this is madness! The psychological toll of neural synchronization is experimental enough in adults. In developing minds, it is a recipe for catastrophic neurological collapse. They are trading these children's futures for a temporary shield!"
"And what would you have them do, Angela?" Morrison's voice was suddenly very quiet, stripped of the commander's authority and replaced with the heavy, hollow tone of a man who had made too many compromises, "Let Seoul burn? Let the Gwishin march inland? The ROK army was desperate. They found a solution that worked, and now the UN wants to capitalize on it."
"For what it's worth," Archer cut in, "I think this is the right decision."
"Archer, what the hell?" Lena was alarmed that the Spirit would say something like that. She had thought that he, of all people, would be against drafting actual kids into the military. He had seen far, far more things than any of them, so he should know that this was fucked up!
"Don't get me wrong, I hate this as much as you do." Archer raised a hand to calm her down, "But think about it - Overwatch training them would actually keep them off the field for longer than they would otherwise be. Am I correct in assuming this, commander?"
Morrison stared at the Heroic Spirit for a long moment before releasing a breath he seemed to have been holding for days. He leaned back in his chair, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction.
"Yes." Morrison confirmed, his voice rough, "That was part of the negotiation."
Archer nodded, unfolding his arms and stepping fully into the light of the holotable. He didn't look at the files anymore, "Think about the logistics. The UN wants a spectacle. A highly publicized, extended training regimen where the world gets to watch their new darlings learn from the legendary Overwatch. As long as they are here, running simulations, posing for cameras, and participating in controlled exercises, they are not in the East China Sea."
Lena blinked, the righteous anger in her chest suddenly stuttering to a halt. She looked back at the holographic projection of the sixteen-year-old girl.
"You mean…" Lena started, the realization dawning on her.
"He means we're buying them time." Reyes said, a humorless, razor-thin smile touching his lips. He looked at Archer with a newfound sliver of respect, "Leave it to the ghost to see the tactical advantage in playing babysitter. If they're here, they ain't fighting."
Archer took one final look at the holographic profiles, "The longer they play at being students, the longer they survive."
Lena hated that she could only agree with him.
Chapter 63
The flight to Seoul was not as bad as it could have been. Just as with every other Overwatch mission, they were on what amounted to a private jet straight to their destination. No stopovers either, as the dropship they were in had a built-in AI that could fully pilot it without human intervention.
Winston really had outdone himself with Athena. If Lena didn't know any better, she would have thought that it was someone else remotely piloting the dropship and not an AI.
…did that make her racist towards omnics?
Lena had to shake her head as the real problem set in, hours after the flight.
Jetlag.
See, in contrast to their other missions that didn't require them to wake up at a reasonable time for the locals of the area, this mission was the complete opposite. They were going to be teaching some impressionable kids on how to fight, and that meant consistency. Consistency in a place that was eight hours ahead of London.
Needless to say, Lena was tired as all bloody hell, but it was only three in the afternoon.
"Eyes open, Oxton." The unaffected form of Archer spoke, "You might just walk into an open manhole with how much you've been yawning."
Just the mention of yawning made her jaw do so uncontrollably, "Sssshaaut up, Archer." Lena rubbed her eyes, the neon-drenched skyline of Seoul blurring into a smear of vibrant pinks and electric blues through the transport window. It hurt her eyes looking at it, and she knew that she'd have to get used to this soon enough.
Archer merely offered a stoic, unimpressed hum. Unlike the rest of the strike team, the Heroic Spirit didn't suffer from biological inconveniences like circadian rhythms or travel fatigue. He stood perfectly rigid, his crimson coat immaculate, arms crossed as he analyzed the approaching military compound with the calculating gaze of a seasoned general.
"Look alive, team." Morrison's voice crackled over the comms, "We are touching down at the MEKA primary staging ground. Remember: we are here to train, but we are also being watched. Best behavior."
The dropship descended into a sprawling, subterranean hangar. Drydocks, some holding completed mechs the size of Winston, others holding in-progress units of staggering size. All of them had people flitting in and out, the entire place a hive of activity. More than one of the mechs had the telltale sign of battle. Holes larger than Lena herself, burn and scorch marks that melted the metal immediately surrounding the impact.
It was sobering to realize that these were unmanned drones. And that the Korean Army was going to be fielding actual children to replace these.
Lena shook her head as she diverted her attention to her team. Archer was present, obviously. Barring him, Winston, Sombra, Reinhardt and Genji joined them. Commander Morrison was only present digitally, as he was now at the main Switzerland Overwatch headquarters alongside Commander Reyes. Apparently, the only reason they had been staying in London this entire time was due to the fears of another Null Sector attack, but now that several months had passed, they had decided to move back to the real headquarters.
Angela was missing as her research was deemed more important to complete - apparently a breakthrough in her nanomachines that could revolutionize everything. Cassidy opted to remain behind, citing that he still wasn't comfortable in training kids like that.
Reinhardt had agreed, but ultimately decided that it was part of his responsibility to make sure that the new 'MEKA Squad' could survive the Gwishin.
The hydraulic ramp of the dropship hissed open, releasing a wave of warm, ozone-heavy air. Lena shielded her eyes against the glaring fluorescent lights of the sprawling subterranean hangar.
"Well, well, well. Look what the UN dragged in."
High above them on an overhead catwalk, a small group of figures leaned down. Leading them was a girl with short brown hair, her jacket emblazoned with a pink rabbit emblem. Hana Song looked down with an expression mixing teenage boredom and defensive bravado.
"So this is Overwatch." Another voice chimed in. A taller young man with sharp features, Kyung-soo Han - designated as King - leaned against the railing beside her, crossing his arms, "Expected more gray hair. Though, I guess the big metal guy fits the bill."
Reinhardt let out a booming laugh that rattled the loose tools on a nearby workbench. "Ho! Spirited! Exactly what is needed when facing the leviathans of the deep!"
Lena stared up at the teenagers. Up close, the reality of what Morrison and Reyes had agreed to felt ten times heavier. These were the kids whose skills in video games of all things lead them to being conscripted into the Korean Army. Winston muttered under his breath, still visibly troubled by the entire thing. She gave the scientist a brief, wan smile, one he returned just as unenthusiastically.
"You're late." Hana said, pushing off the railing. Lena started as she realized that the kid had jumped off from a height of two bloody storeys. It was only the lack of reaction from the rest of the MEKA Squad that Lena didn't Blink forward.
Hana landed gracefully, her boots pulsing with a faint green light. She dusted off her hands and marched right up to the vanguard of the Overwatch strike team, stopping just short of Archer's imposing height, "We've had simulations running for three hours. If you're going to teach us how to survive the Gwishin, you're going to have to keep up."
Lena rubbed her temples, feeling a fresh wave of exhaustion settle deep into her bones. Babysitting prodigies who thought they were invincible.
What could possibly go wrong?
" , enough." Yuna Lee called out with a similar sigh to Lena. Thankfully, the other girl decided to take the stairs like a normal person, as did the other members of the squad.
Yuna's boots clicked sharply against the reinforced steel flooring as she finally reached the bottom, her expression a mix of reprimand and exhausted diplomacy. She offered a polite, if stiff, nod to the assembled Overwatch veterans, "Apologies for her. We've been running diagnostics on the localized neural links for twelve hours straight."
Reinhardt crossed his arms, the massive steel plates of his crusader armor shifting with a heavy metallic groan. He let out a hearty chuckle that softened the tension in the room, "No harm done, young ones! Youth should be fiery. How else do you stare down the mechanized hordes of the deep?"
"Thank you." Yuna smiled, before stretching out her hand for a handshake, "I'm sure that you've all been briefed as to who we are, but I wish to introduce myself properly. I am , provisional leader of MEKA Squad."
Archer's eyes narrowed slightly, before the Heroic Spirit stepped past Reinhardt and extended a hand. His grip, when it met Yuna's, was firm, steady, and entirely devoid of patronization. Even Lena could spot the surprise from the Korean.
"Archer," He introduced himself simply, "And based on that introduction, I am assuming you spend half your time putting out fires that your vanguard starts, Lieutenant Lee."
Yuna's lips twitched into a wry, knowing smile, "You have no idea. If spent half as much energy studying tactical telemetry as she does modifying her thrusters for illegal street races, we'd be half a step ahead of the Gwishin."
"Hey! I heard that!" Hana shouted from where she was currently kicking the heavy metal foot of Reinhardt's armor, testing its tensile strength with a boot heel, "And they weren't illegal! There's no law saying I can't modify Toki's thrusters!"
"They resulted in three missing drone units and a reprimand from the Ministry of Defense." A quiet, slightly muffled voice noted. Seung-hwa Kang, Overlord, descended the stairs last, carrying a datapad nearly as large as his torso, his fingers rhythmically tapping away at a diagnostic script. He pushed up a pair of heavily tinted visors, hints of another overlay on them visible even at a distance, as he looked at the gathered Overwatch agents, "Though...it is an honor to meet you all. I've read the reports on the London Uprising, and it's amazing to think that we'll be training under you!"
Sombra, who had been lingering near the edge of the group, let out a soft, amused snort. Her purple-lit cybernetic implants flickered in the fluorescent glare, "Careful, kid. Theory and practice are about as close as a hacker and a clean firewall. Most of the time, we're just making it up as we go."
Her smug tone only lasted until Archer brought his fist on her head, "Shut up, you weren't even there."
"¡Ay, pendejo!" Sombra hissed, rubbing the top of her head as her purple optical implants flickered erratically for a split second, "I read the after-action reports! It's basically the same thing!"
"If that were the case, work experience would never be required for a job." Archer replied smoothly, not even turning to look at the disgruntled hacker. He kept his attention on Yuna, "Now, Lieutenant, I assume that you didn't meet us here as a courtesy call?"
"She didn't." The voice of Commander Morrison called out from their communicators. Lena brought her hand to her ear, as a visor popped up in front of her eyes. Past it, she could see that everyone, including the MEKA Squad, had one.
The face of the Overwatch leader now staring at them, he continued, "The UN decided that your first training session will be broadcast publicly."
Lena groaned inwardly, though outwardly she only let her shoulders slump a fraction of an inch more. She had no doubt that the other Overwatch members were in similar moods, though MEKA Squad didn't even flinch. In fact, they looked more like they didn't care either way.
"No offense, commander," Winston coughed, looking a lot more nervous than earlier, "But I believe I speak for everyone that we would have preferred a heads up."
"Unfortunately, this came as much of a surprise for us as well." Morrison sighed in annoyance, "Someone on the United Nations' PR team decided it was a good idea and only decided to tell me ten minutes ago."
"Besides," Hana waved to get everyone's attention, "You guys should get used to streaming anyway. We'll be streaming most of this stuff on the reg."
Lena stared at the teenage girl, her exhausted brain struggling to process the cheerful flippancy in Hana's voice. Streaming most of this stuff on the reg. As if preparing to fight an unending horde of genocidal squid-mechs was equivalent to a weekend gaming tournament.
"Streaming." Lena repeated flatly. She looked toward Reinhardt, hoping the crusader would share her utter bewilderment. Instead, the large German was sporting a slowly growing grin.
"Ha. HA-HA-HA!" The crusader boomed out, "Time to brush up on my streamer voice, yes!"
"You're a streamer?!" Lena gaped at the older man, much like everyone else in the room.
"Of course I was!" Reinhardt slapped a hand to his chestplate, "Everyone in my generation was! I wasn't very good at it though! I still blame the oversaturation of the streamer market at the time." He leaned in to whisper conspiratorially.
"Huh. More you know." Hana scratched her head, "Ground rules though! Don't call us by our real names. We're still minors and there's laws about that stuff. Our game handles work, so call us by them instead!"
"You're being conscripted as soldiers." Archer slowly said, as if that explained everything. In Lena's opinion, it kind of did.
"Yes." Yuna - or rather, - nodded with even more exasperation.
"Let's move, people. You're on in five." Morrison's voice cut through the hangar before Lena had time to question her even more.
If this was the future of global defense, she needed a much stronger drink than tea.
Chapter 64
A/N: Actual emergency update here. Writing D. Va or D. Mon without the space after the period is not allowed on FFnet. Apparently, this site thinks it's a damn link, and auto deletes the word. Fixed now, but it's annoying.
...
There were way too many cameras for Lena's comfort. Big, bulky ones that floated with some form of maglev tech, bouncing around and getting the 'best' angles they could. Each of them remotely controlled by one of the techs behind the one-way glass of their training room.
All so they could stream her bloody face to the world.
Okay, maybe not her face specifically, but that was a moot point! Nobody told her that she'd be performing in front of who knows how many people! It was already bad back in the aftermath of the Uprising, when news crews hounded them relentlessly. Back then, it was a shared block of 'Overwatch saving the day', whereas now, it was exclusively her and her team.
Emily would find this a riot.
Lena most certainly did not.
Still, nothing she could do about it now. The only thing she could do is try to ignore it. Hopefully, everyone's attention would be on the MEKA Squad instead of Overwatch, seeing as it was technically MEKA's training they were watching.
"Viewership is currently totalling over one hundred thousand across all social media and rising." Overlord spoke up beside them, "With the rate that it's going, we're on track to reach five hundred thousand concurrent viewers."
Lena could feel her breathing start to pick up speed.
"Bit lower than expected." King shrugged as he swapped out his glasses for a sturdier looking pair, "Then again, this is a guerrilla stream."
"It'll pick up once word gets out." D. Mon shrugged, "Give me a second to put up chat."
"Oxton, are you alright?" Archer's concerned callout hit her like ice cold water. Except she was already drenched in a cold sweat, so nothing actually happened other than Lena wanting to curl up into a ball in panic.
That he hadn't bothered to contact her through their mental link was telling.
"Of bloody course not!" She hissed out, which maybe was the wrong decision, as the lens of the nearest maglev drone swiveled toward Lena, its autofocus mechanism whirring like an agitated wasp. Lena did her best to show her smile. She didn't think she did too well.
Archer tracked its movement, his steel-gray eyes narrowing imperceptibly. To the untrained eye, Lena was simply vibrating with her usual energy. But Archer, and the rest of the team, knew that she was nervous. She had thought that this would be a normal training session, maybe viewed by some number of live viewers.
Lena's usual training at the London Overwatch base usually was recorded and reviewed, which she already knew about. Sometimes, there'd be a tour that passes by - a high school field trip or two - that she and her fellow teammates show off for. Nothing too egregious.
This was on a different scale.
Never had she thought of herself as a streamer of any sort. It was all the rage back in Reinhardt's time, sure, but the Omnic Crisis had put a lot of people in situations where it was a struggle to survive, let alone get time to livestream, play games, or even watch those streams. As such, while the generation before Lena's was filled with streaming personalities, those same individuals eventually were the ones that had been in life-or-death situations in the first wave of the Crisis.
Like Reinhardt, apparently.
Either way, the resulting effect was that streaming had once more become a niche for Lena's generation.
Some places like South Korea, however, never changed. Throughout the early 2010's, video games and streaming were all the rage. Professional esports was a lucrative, if mentally demanding, niche that they never got rid of, even under the threat of the Gwishin.
Before anything else could be said between them, panels popped up on the visors of the MEKA Squad members. Lena blinked, the sudden flash of light breaking her stare-down with the hovering maglev drone. The panels were densely packed with scrolling text, flashing emotes, and cascading donation alerts. The teenagers instantly lit up, their postures shifting from relaxed to energized in an instant.
"Oh, wow, the main room is already at capacity." D. Va chirped, her eyes darting back and forth as she read the rapid-fire text. She reached up, adjusting her headset with a practiced, photogenic tilt of her head, "Thanks for the ten months, Overclock! Dang, has it really been that long?"
"I've got the secondary streams moderated." Overlord added, his fingers dancing across a holographic keyboard projected from his wrist, "Engagement metrics are spiking."
"Perfect! Oh, chat's asking about the Overwatch team." D. Va swiveled, her mech's hydraulics hissing as she turned to face Lena and the others. The pink mech's camera array focused on them with an almost predatory precision, "Should I introduce everyone? Give them a proper MEKA welcome?"
"Maybe let them introduce themselves." D. Mon said dryly, finally looking up from her panel, "They're our guests after all, not exhibits."
"Exhibits are more interesting." D. Va's gum popped, "No offense, Overwatch. You guys are just so serious. Are you always like this? Do you ever, like, relax?"
Before Lena could formulate a response that wouldn't come out as a strangled shriek, Reinhardt's laughter boomed across the hangar, "Relax! We relax! Why, just last week-"
Lena tuned out the old crusader's flamboyancy, as the cameras turned to him. Really, this was him not being good at streaming?
"All systems nominal, ready for deployment." Casino nodded from where he was checking another panel, graphs and numbers flitting through, "D. Va, your left thruster's calibration is still off by point-oh-three percent."
"Oh no." D. Va pressed a hand to her chest in mock horror. "Point-oh-three percent? Whatever shall I do?"
"Fix it before we drop?" Casino's voice was flat, utterly unimpressed. "Or do you want your mech to drift into a building again?"
"That was one time."
"Last Tuesday."
"The building was empty!"
"The point still stands."
They were completely, utterly distracted, and yet, they were also completely, utterly at ease. They joked about crashing into buildings. They talked about viewership metrics like other soldiers talked about ammunition counts. They had built an entire culture around their own absurdity, and somehow, impossibly, it worked.
Lena stared at the teenagers, her mind struggling to reconcile the scene in front of her.
They were soldiers. Technically. They were drafted by their government to fight off gargantuan, city-leveling omnic monstrosities that adapted to conventional warfare like a virus. Yet, standing in the middle of a high-tech staging ground, mere minutes before a combat simulation, they looked like kids hanging out at an internet cafe.
The absurdity of it temporarily short-circuited Lena's rising panic.
She watched D. Va blow a pink bubble of gum, the holographic light of her chat panel reflecting in her eyes. D. Mon was typing something or the other while talking quietly with a smile. King was adjusting his hair in the reflection of a minimized window, while Casino and Overlord discussed engagement algorithms.
For all intents and purposes, their situational awareness had plummeted to absolute zero. If a Null Sector drop pod had crashed through the ceiling right then, the MEKA Squad wouldn't have noticed until the dust cleared.
A shadow fell over Lena, blocking the harsh glare of the hangar's lighting.
The sweeping flare of Archer's crimson coat completely eclipsed Lena from the maglev drone's unblinking lens. He didn't swat the camera away or acknowledge it verbally, only closing his eyes and crossing his arms.
Thankfully, whoever was piloting the drone got the message, and headed in the direction of Reinhardt and Winston.
She had to suppress a wince, giving the scientist a mental apology.
"Thanks." She muttered towards the Spirit. Had it been anyone else, they wouldn't have caught it. Archer's enhanced senses clearly did, with the man giving her a small nod of acknowledgement.
Lena took a deep, shuddering breath, the stale air of the hangar filling her lungs. With the camera drone now hovering around a highly uncomfortable Winston and a boisterous Reinhardt, the oppressive weight of the cameras lifted just enough for her to think straight. She rolled her shoulders, the chronal accelerator on her chest humming with a steady, rhythmic thrum.
"Alright, chat, we're about to drop into the simulation." D. Va's voice echoed, overly bright and perfectly modulated for the microphone. She was leaning against the leg of her bright pink mech, completely exposed, "Gonna show these Overwatch chumps how MEKA carries the lobby. Don't forget to hit that sub button!"
"D. Va," D. Mon sighed, though Lena could hear a teasing lilt to it, "You're going to scare them off. They're not used to our energy."
"They're soldiers," D. Va pointed out, gesturing vaguely at the Overwatch team with one pink-gloved hand, "They can handle a little trash talk. Can't you?"
She directed the last part directly at Lena, and Lena realized that, maybe, just maybe, this was D. Va's - and by extension MEKA Squad's - way of easing them in. You couldn't be a public personality without noticing stuff going on around you, and they must've noticed that Lena was uncomfortable.
Dammit, they were kids. But they're good kids. Lena opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"We'll see." She managed, and it came out steadier than she'd expected. "Just try not to crash into any other buildings, yeah?"
A beat of silence. Then D. Va's grin widened, sharp and delighted, "Oh, I like her. Chat, you hearing this? The Brit has spine."
Lena exchanged a look with Sombra. The hacker was leaning against a stack of munitions crates, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in a look of profound disbelief, coupled with no small amount of amusement. Even Genji, standing perfectly still with his arms folded, seemed to radiate a quiet sigh.
They were briefed about their training before they had started the stream, though only the bare basics. The Korean Army had access to a state of the art projection system. A system that had Winston desperately wanting to pour over the schematics of.
They'll probably get those schematics at a later date, all things considered. If the ROK Army didn't want it to be shown, then they wouldn't have approved of its use. If anything, this was likely to be some sort of advertisement for their system, one that told everyone watching that they're willing to play ball.
Lena didn't see the strategic advantage, but she wasn't in charge, so the point was moot.
Archer seemed to suspect something was amiss though. That he hadn't told her anything was sign enough, as were his subtle motions to Sombra. Not that anyone else noticed. She only did as she had spent an inordinate amount of time with the annoying asshole.
Nevertheless, as the five members of MEKA Squad finished up their preparations and entered their mechs, so too did the five members of Overwatch position themselves appropriately. It would have been better had Angela been here, but they would make do.
"Starting simulation in three." The intercom sounded out, "Two. One. Starting."
The world expanded into blue. Blue cubes, millions of them, tessellating outward from the hangar's far wall like a digital flood. They twisted and reformed, snapping into place with a sound like shattering glass played in reverse.
Then the blue receded, and Lena was standing on an aircraft carrier.
The smell of the sea, salty, humid, assaulted her nose. The sound of the waves, the heat of the sun, all of them were simulations, but her senses were completely fooled.
It all felt so real. The others that hadn't experienced this likely felt the same, going by the looks on their faces. Archer was the only exception, like he almost always was. Instead of looking around in wonder, he was staring in the distance with two raised eyebrows.
Lena followed his gaze, and could see a massive oil rig in the distance. Crude oil had been more or less gone by the time that Lena had been born. Cleaner replacements had eventually completely replaced them, and plastics were far less common. Fusion energy had solved most of the world's energy issues, while hardlight did the rest.
The oil rigs around the world were not completely dismantled, though. Nobody could afford it, as the oil companies that ran them went bankrupt. As such, abandoned oil rigs still polluted the open ocean, and had actually become something of a horror movie trope.
"Alright, everyone, here's the situation."
D. Mon's voice cut through the ambient simulation sounds with practiced clarity. Her mech had positioned itself at the edge of the aircraft carrier's deck, its camera array sweeping across the simulated ocean before settling on the distant oil rig. The mech's speakers projected her voice, crisp and professional, with just enough warmth to keep the audience engaged.
"Standard extraction simulation. The objective is that oil rig about two klicks out. Hostile forces have taken control of the facility and are holding civilian personnel hostage." She paused, and Lena could imagine her reading the chat feed in her visor, "No, before anyone asks, this isn't based on a real-world scenario template. Thank you for the five gifted."
Lena listened as D. Mon continued her explanation. She made it sound effortless, breaking down complex tactical information into digestible pieces while acknowledging donation alerts and chat questions with seamless transitions. It was, Lena realized with a mixture of admiration and unease, a genuine skill.
"The simulation's AI will adapt to our actions in real-time." D. Mon continued, her mech gesturing toward the rig with one articulated arm. "The hostages are marked on your HUD as green icons. Hostiles are red. The extraction zone is on the rig's helipad, marked in blue."
"Any other parameters we should know about?" King asked. His mech was running diagnostics, weapons systems cycling through check sequences, "Like, I don't know, a time limit? Environmental hazards? Surprise boss fight?"
"Always with the boss fights." D. Mon sighed, though Lena caught the hint of amusement in her voice, "But yes, there's a time limit. The rig's structural integrity is compromised - the initial defense of the rig damaged the supports. We've got fifteen minutes starting on touchdown before the whole thing goes up."
"Fifteen minutes?" Reinhardt's voice boomed from somewhere behind Lena, his massive frame still adjusting to the simulation's spatial constraints, "That's barely enough time for a proper entrance!"
"Then you better make it count, old man." D. Va called back, her mech's boosters flaring as she lifted off the deck, "MEKA Squad will take the aerial approach. Overwatch, you're on ground insertion. We'll clear the upper decks and draw fire while you extract the hostages."
Lena blinked. That was...actually a solid plan, considering they didn't know Archer could probably wipe everything off the map. Acknowledging Overwatch's ground capabilities, leveraging MEKA's mobility and firepower. And it came from the overly bubbly D. Va?
She may have to reassess the teenager sooner rather than later.
"Alright, before we engage, are there any other questions?"
A hand was raised. It was...Archer?
"Are you sure this place isn't based on a real scenario?" The Heroic Spirit was entirely serious about it, even as D. Mon uncharacteristically scowled.
"Yes, I'm sure." The leader rolled her eyes, "Didn't you hear me earlier? Anyway, this is just the default setting of the simulator. They just tweaked the hostiles' settings to account for the increase in people."
Archer acknowledged her with a nod, if one that was unconvinced. Lena noted that for later. She'd ask him what that was about, especially since it was unlikely he would have asked that question if he hadn't recognized something or the other.
What are the chances that he'd recognized a random oil rig for a simulation like this, after all?
Chapter 65
Hana took a mental breath as the carrier approached the oil rig. This wasn't the first time they had run this course, but the thrill of shooting stuff IRL compared to behind a screen was massive. It reminded her of those VR pods that got banned because they were too good at simulating real sensations.
The fact that it was the virtual sex that got it banned and not the pain emulators would never not be hilarious.
"D. Va, sound off." Yuna's comms came through, and while Hana rolled her eyes at her friend, she did as she was told. As far as they were both concerned, this was nothing more than a formality for the suits. As she did so, she could see that the guys from Overwatch had separated into a small group, talking to each other as they all checked their own equipment.
For her part, thrusters were green, triggers were just the right tension, DM was full - she needed to get new gloves though, her thumbs were getting too sore - and her chat was zooming by her HUD. With experience, she easily caught a few that deserved a bit more attention.
[Overclock99]: 10 MONTH SUB! LETS GOOOOO!
[Tokki_Simp_No1]: TOKKI LOOKS SO CLEAN TODAY
[Gwishin_Slayer]: OW boomers look lost already LMAO
[BobaKnight]: Is the British girl okay? She looks like she saw a ghost
[JunkBall]: whos the guy in red? cant find anything about him
[Salt_Free_Gaming]: 500 bits says D. Va takes top frag by 30%
[PewPew_Norepeat]: 100k views on a pop-up stream? MEKA DIFF
[remsleep12]: JunkBall probs a boomer that doesnt have any socmeds
[Bookwyrm]: Who doesn't have socmeds nowadays?
[JunkBall]: doesnt make sense tho overwatch is public so all members are as well
[Giwshin_Slayer]: tell that to blackwatch
[Gwishin_Slayer]: Giwshin_Slayer IDENTITY THEFT!
"Thanks for the ten months, Overclock99! And simp, I know you gotta live up to the name, but pipe down will ya?" Hana rolled her eyes exaggeratedly for the camera, "We've got some normies here that are gonna look at you weirdly for that kinda stuff."
A series of random emotes, mostly laughing at good ol' simp. Still, that one comment…
"Actually, I don't know anything about that guy, do any of you?" Hana directed the question towards her own team, barring Yuna - and since they were starting soon, she should probably stick to calling her D. Mon - who was now talking with said person of interest. Her leader would probably tell them what it was about after she was done.
Overlord, predictably, pulled up the files that he had. The youngest member of MEKA Squad was the one usually in charge of things like that, as the others (including herself) preferred to get into the action more often than not. It had gotten to the point where chat was…
[lagswithc]: Imagine having zero digital footprint in the big 75 :skull:
[Tofu_Titan]: Red coat guy looks like a final boss ngl
[Pixel_Paladin]: ITS HIM ITS THE LOREMASTER HIMSELF
[seraff]: overwatch background check speedrun any%
[ceroCooldowns]: LORE DROP LETS GOOOOO
[LaSombra]: wait who's the purple hair girl behind him tho :looking:
[matrixwasbad]: WAITER WAITER MORE LORE PLEASE
…Yeah, like that. It had actually gotten to a point that Hana had felt she was bullying her teammate for a while, until she had talked to him privately about it. Turns out, he found the entire thing funny and went along with it for the fun of it.
That didn't stop D. Va from making Overlord promise to tell them if they went too far. She didn't want the excess fame to let her lose sight of her friends, after all. Dae-hyun would kill her if she acted like a bitch. It's a shame that her childhood friend couldn't be here with them, she knew for a fact that he had a bit of a crush on Tracer, and it would have been great to watch him squirm!
Contrary to the quick response that Overlord would usually give, however, the other pilot only furrowed his brows as he scrolled and scrolled. This caught the attention of both King and Casino, both of whom were entertaining their own chats.
Overlord not having intel on things was very much uncommon. Enough so that any sign of it was a matter of concern for them.
"Weird, none of the dossiers that Overwatch gave us has any mention of him, bar some involvement with…Tracer?"
"Involvement?" D. Va asked, her interest genuinely piqued now. She absently fired off a quick sequence of test maneuvers with her flight sticks, keeping her eyes glued to the data Overlord was pushing to her HUD, "Like, what kind of involvement? Are they, like, a thing?"
"No, definitely not a thing." Overlord replied, the rapid tapping of his virtual keyboard bleeding through the squad's private comms, "But my crawler just hit a cached, scrubbed file from a defunct tabloid server. There were leaks from Rome a while back. It says a man matching his exact physical description was the best man at Tracer's wedding."
D. Va blinked, completely caught off guard, "Wait, she's married? To who?" Oof. Bad news for Dae-hyun.
"Unknown." Overlord sighed, sounding slightly offended by the dead end, "The spouse's identity is completely redacted, and the photos were wiped." The young man sighed in frustration, to which Casino laughed out loud.
"Come on now, no need to keep prying." The oldest of their group waved his hand in a placating manner, "It's their personal lives you're stalking right now, you know?" Slightly admonished, Overlord nodded back sheepishly.
D. Va's stream chat, meanwhile, exploded with the new information, the scrolling speed doubling instantly as the algorithm fed on the fresh gossip.
[remsleep12]: WAIT TRACER IS MARRIED? AAAAAAAAAAAAA
[JunkBall]: lore guy just casually dropping global defense secrets LMAO
[BobaKnight]: Best man? So they're like besties?
[InCoGtAb]: D. Va what's your opinion on fries? curly or nah
[Salt_Free_Gaming]: Red coat is the third wheel confirmed
[Gwishin_Slayer]: WHO IS THE SPOUSE OVERLORD WE NEED TO KNOW
[PewPew_Norepeat]: 100 gifted subs if Overlord finds the marriage certificate
"Curly, obviously, what kind of question is that?" D. Va shot back to the random chatter, flashing a quick, practiced wink at her internal stream-cam, "And chat, cool your jets! Casino is right, we're not the paparazzi. No digging up marriage certificates, or I'm handing out timeouts. We respect personal boundaries in this lobby!"
[BobaKnight]: curly fries based
[InCoGtAb]: W take
[Gwishin_Slayer]: booooo we want the lore
[PewPew_Norepeat]: fine keeping my 100 subs :angry:
[hirys]: D. Va protecting the boomers, how sweet
"I'm not protecting anyone, I'm just being a professional." Hana scoffed playfully, though she did shoot a curious glance over at the Overwatch team. D. Mon had finished talking to them, and had sent them the minutes. How professional of her. Winston, the gorilla that was also a scientist(?) that was carrying a freaking tesla gun was the most obviously nervous, weirdly enough.
The cyborg ninja guy, who D. Va was certain was the same one from the Blackwatch files, was standing with his arms crossed. There was no way of determining how he felt with that helmet of his.
Reinhardt was now engaged with King, the two's boisterous attitudes becoming the center of attention for the freecams all around them. The crusader was the most excited out of everyone here. Whether because he was on stream or because he was just playing to King's personality remained to be seen.
Tracer, having been the center of attention way back when the Slipstream scandal came to light, was handling the cameras better than Winston. Which wasn't saying much, as D. Va could still see that she was forcing a smile more often than not.
Sombra was busy typing on a holoscreen in front of her. No, scratch that, that was five monitors in front of her. Hana was definitely impressed by the efficiency of whatever tech she had, cause the amount of energy throughput to display that many holoscreens would need a bigger battery than what D. Va could see. Maybe she was hiding stuff beneath her clothes?
Of everyone though, the person that they had been talking about had the most interesting reaction. Archer was busy looking towards the oil rig. If D. Va didn't know any better, she'd have thought he was tracking the enemies on the platform already!
"Everyone, we're launching in thirty seconds." D. Mon called over the comms, "Standard formation, I'll take point. King, we're counting on you for targeted missile barrage while we secure the Overwatch team's landing."
"Copy that, fearless leader." King's voice crackled over the private channel, punctuated by the high-pitched, electric whine of his mech's weapon systems spooling up.
Hana cracked her knuckles inside her haptic gloves. Her secondary screen was a blurred waterfall of hype, the stream's algorithms pushing her metrics higher by the second. It was kind of weird that they weren't coordinating more with Overwatch, though this was more of a secondary concern.
She wasn't much for politics, true, but MEKA Squad needed to prove themselves. Their fame from Starcraft was immense, yet that was only the case in Korea. Outside of it, all that anyone could see was a bunch of kids playing soldier. It was...aggravating to say the least.
If they deferred to Overwatch, then it would solidify that MEKA Squad was subservient to the UN team. She didn't want any of that. Neither did the rest of her team.
At least D. Va was self-aware enough to know it really was an ego thing.
The automated voice of the carrier's AI cut through the roar of the ocean wind, snapping Hana's focus back to the present.
"T-minus ten seconds to drop. All units, brace for insertion."
Hana tightened her grip on the flight sticks, a familiar, electric thrill shooting down her spine. The lights on the fake carrier lit up red as the MEKA Squad tensed as one. On her HUD, a countdown started with a red screen.
"Three. Two. One. Mark." The carrier lit green.
"Here we go, chat! Hope none of you get motion sick!" D. Va yelled into her mic, slamming the thruster pedals forward.
[PewPew_Norepeat]: GO GO GO GO GO
[BobaKnight]: OH MY GOD THE THRUSTER TRAILS LOOK SO SICK
[Gwishin_Slayer]: MEKA SWEEP MEKA SWEEP MEKA SWEEP
[Tokki_Simp_No1]: STEP ON ME TOKKI
[Salt_Free_Gaming]: Look at that formation tho, literal perfection
[remsleep12]: Rip to the headphone users LMAO
[JunkBall]: 10k bits on D. Va getting first blood!
[Pixel_Paladin]: :pogchamp: ITS HAPPENING
[lagswithc]: wait where is overwatch?
[Tofu_Titan]: lagswithc they are taking the boomer bus down probably
[ceroCooldowns]: D. Va looking like a magical girl on deployment fr
[Bookwyrm]: Did anyone see the red guy jump? Bro just walked off the edge :skull:
Tokki shot out of the carrier bay like a neon-pink cannonball, instantly hitting terminal velocity. Flanking her, the rest of MEKA Squad erupted into the sky, leaving brilliant trails of green, blue, yellow, and red plasma in their wake. It was a perfectly choreographed, highly optimized, and all around flashy deployment.
Just like how they practiced.
"You better get ready to pay out, JunkBall!" D. Va wasn't the first to land - that honor was D. Mon's as the tip of the spear - but she was the first one to fire. Micro missiles flew out in sync with her defense matrix, thumbs dancing to intercept each bullet that came their way from the oil rig's defenders.
Said defenders, collectively named as Enemy Programs by the simulator, resembled large, mechanical bulls. If bulls had jaws half of their body size, glowed neon, and had guns inside their mouths. They were the usual fodder that the simulator techs would throw at them, as their quadrupedal nature allowed for deceptively quick movements that tested their ability to track multiple targets.
D. Va thought they were underestimating her team.
The barrage of micro missiles impacted the Enemy Program in the mouth, the bullets it would have spewed deleted by her defenses.
"Twelve bulls, tanks!" The callout from Overlord was answered by Casino. The pilot swooped in fast in his La Princesse, a strafing run that forced the bulls to back up. The green mech, specialized in hit and run tactics, was perfect for the former F1 driver.
"Setting up artillery! Danger close!" King's Singijeon was the opposite. Bulkier, holding more weapons platforms than any other of the MEKA Squad, it was uniquely suited to large scale blanket bombing. As he was demonstrating now, a full volley of tracking missiles bombarded their enemies.
D. Va pulled a lever, her reverse thrusters bucking Tokki backwards as smoke filled the area. The first wave, as always, was the easiest to clear.
"Shifters, railing!"
Her fusion cannons whirred to life as she boosted upwards. The Enemy Program they called shifters were a lot more lean than the bulls, and they called them that due to their weird ability to morph their bodies. They had an almost squid like appearance, in that they used tentacles to strike at the MEKA Squad, except they really weren't.
Honestly, D. Va didn't know how to feel that the techs made something like these things instead of just adding actual Gwishin Omnics, but oh well. It kept them on their toes at least, as D. Va's defense matrix was useless against the attacks they used.
Instead, Hana relied on raw reflex and muscle memory.
She inverted Tokki's thrusters with a flick of her left wrist, sending the mech rolling backward through the air in a tight spiral. A hardlight tentacle whipped through the empty space where her canopy had been a split second prior, slicing clean through a steel support beam behind her.
"Not in my lobby!" D. Va yelled.
Coming out of the roll, she slammed her thrusters forward, burying the front of her mech right into the shifter's central mass. She point-blanked both fusion cannons into its core, the twin barrels roaring until the synthetic creature shattered into a shower of harmless digital pixels.
"Upper deck clear! Sector three secure!" Overlord's voice chirped in her ear, "Clearance time: one minute, twelve seconds."
"New lobby record, baby!" Hana cheered, letting Tokki hover casually on a crane overhang. She gave her internal stream camera a peace sign and a cute double-wink, "See that, chat? That's how MEKA clears a deck. Fast, just like how I-"
"Ahem!" D. Mon deliberately coughed, and while D. Va couldn't see her, she could imagine her team leader raising an eyebrow.
D. Va only cheekily grinned back with a wave from Tokki.
"Eyes open, I spot more units coming from our six." D. Mon rolled her eyes even as MEKA Squad prepared themselves for the next wave.
'I wonder what's Overwatch doing right about now?'