HOME | DD

Description
Based on the image "Over mercury bonus picture", drawn by . The "Overwatch" universe, and all properties therein, are property of Blizzard Entertainment.

OverMercury
Part 4: A Proper Challenge

NOTE: This chapter uses the real name of the current Royal Air Force Air Chief Marshall, and mentions a current spacecraft concept being developed. These connections are used for story purposes only.

Inspiration Music for combat scenes: The Enigma TNG: Revenge of Alice

Please read description before reading on.

UNDISCLOSED ROYAL AIRFORCE BASE, ENGLAND
TEN DAYS LATER, 10:41 PM

A black limousine moves with a nearly-silent engine towards the chain-link gates of the base, its headlights lighting up the rings of metal inside the gate. It doesn't slow down as a pair of blue lights phase over its sleek body, scanning all occupants and materials inside. The gates open automatically a second later, and the car drives down a dirt road towards a large airfield.

This airfield is shrouded in darkness as clouds block the moon. The terrain is mostly flat, built to match the ground level around itself. Large swaths of grass wave in a cool breeze around the runway strips aircraft use to land and take off from. A few large warehouses skirt the edges of the place, each one holding several airplanes either in production or being repaired for future use. All lights in the area are off, save for the inside of one hanger.

The dirt road proves little trouble for the limousine's reinforced tires, and it quickly comes to the lit hanger. Armed soldiers of the Airforce move towards the car as it stops and opens its doors. Six men and one omnic, all in matching black suits, step out to greet the soldiers. A few messages are exchanged as two men help the final occupant of the car step out: a man with gray hair, a navy-blue uniform with several medals, and an aged look in his light-blue eyes.

The soldiers instantly stiffen as they recognize the man by his rank: Air Chief Marshall Sir Stephen Hillier. He nods back to them as one of the agents brings out a small tablet to show him. The device's artificial blue glow shows the wrinkles in Stephen's face he skims over a long list of maintenance and progress reports regarding a top-secret aircraft built here. After seeing nothing new on the list, he gestures for the agent to close it as he checks his digital wristwatch.

Just as the hands tick to show another minute has passed, the roar of distant jet engines makes Stephen look to the sky. The soldiers and agents look with him, but all they see are clouds. The agents quickly bring Stephen inside the hanger, the soldiers already having a door open for them. A few of the soldiers follow the uniformed group inside, while the rest guard the limousine outside.

Stephen's eyes slowly adjust to the dim yellow light as he enters the main hanger bay with the agents. The area has several doors along the walls, with a low ceiling above that. The central space has a large skylight to shield it from outside air. It is dominated by a sleek, black airplane built low to the ground, two large engines on providing the power for the aerodynamic vehicle. The other important qualities of this craft are the two canard foreplanes near its front, and the lack of a proper 'tail'.

The aircraft is dubbed "Skylon" by Air Force officials. Prototyped in the early 2010's by the Reaction Energies Limited aerospace manufacturer, it was designed as a reusable spaceplane that could achieve hypersonic speeds to reach Earth's orbit. Stephen had first heard of the concept before the Omnic Crisis, and that global conflict had forced Britan's military to focus on different tactics. With the Crisis over, and the fallout still affecting the world at large, Britain returned to designs like "Skylon" to help the human race recover.

A tap on Stephen's shoulder snaps him away from the aircraft. An agent directs his attention to someone near the plane's front, looking at a holographic representation of Skylon's schematics. Stephen quickly recognizes the large frame, small glasses, and gray fur of the Overwatch agent "Winston" as he walks over to the genetically-enhanced gorilla. The ape wears a set of white and gray armor that extends into a jump pack on his back. He uses his forelimbs to hold a large projector screen in place, the small glasses balanced on his nose giving him a curious expression.

"I hope I haven't kept you waiting, Winston," Stephen says as he gets closer to the Overwatch agent. Winston quickly turns to the director, his larger frame dwarfing Stephen's figure as the two stand face-to-face.

"No worries, Director," Winston replies with a short grunt. "I was just reviewing the plans your engineers have come up with. Thank you very much for letting me contribute my ideas on the Synergetic Air-Breathing Rocket Engine to your research team."

"A pleasure to hear your thoughts," Stephen confirms with a warm smile. "Hopefully, we can have the Skylon ready to operate within the year. It will be the next step for us to regain our sights to the stars."

"Mmm, yes," the gorilla agrees as he pushes his glasses a bit further along his nose. An awkward silence falls between the two as the agents keep their eyes away from the conversation. Man and ape turn their eyes to "Skylon", each of them imagining a way it could be used for mankind's future discoveries.

Stephen eventually breaks the silence with the question, "Has the search for Tracer brought any new results?" Winston visibly deflates with a long sigh, and Stephen turns back to face him.

"Nothing new at all," the scientist replies as he turns his eyes to the metal floor. "No transmissions, signals, or rudimentary sightings to speak of." He shakes his head slowly a few times as he then admits, "I'm really starting to believe she's gone for good."

"Then, should we prepare the memorial service for her?"

"I don't think a service is necessary," Winston quickly states with a sideways glance at Stephen. "Besides, there's always the chance she'll turn up again."

"We can't keep this a secret forever," Stephen warns. "The media already know she was last seen in King's Row, chasing that hacker Sombra. They want to know if she succeeded, or failed, in bringing her in. If they don't get an answer, then—"

"Then the world will be affected," Winston replies with a weary tone. "We've been over this before, Director: I know what the people want to know. But, I can't just declare her dead to a television screen. I can't say she's dead to those people who admire her, like myself."

"The world can't wait, Winston," Stephen professionally states. "We have to tell the truth eventually. We have to move on."

"It's not so easy for me to 'move on'," Winston growls between clenched teeth. He shifts away from Stephen and knuckle-walks to a corner of the hanger before his primal fury gets the better of him. The agents and soldiers give him cold glances that only stir the angry flames in his heart. They give another sign that the world doesn't want Overwatch, or what it represents, anymore. They want to move on, and let the old ways die out.

Winston doesn't want to become extinct, just like his fellow gorillas at the Horizon Lunar Colony didn't want to be test subjects for humans. Winston hadn't aided their rebellion against the colonists, but he still felt their natural anger against mistreatment at large. He won't let his friends be mistreated, either.

Winston looks back to the "Skylon" aircraft as it glows under the moon's unfiltered light… and then above it as something breaks through the skylight.

Glass shards rain down onto the aircraft's hull as a large object falls to the side opposite Winston's position. The agents stare in shock as, for a second, they see a silver-coated human flash them a wide-eyed grin. Then, they fall on all fours from an impact that shakes the entire hanger. Alarms blare as the hanger's lights change to a bright, flashing red.

Winston races forward as fast as his four hands can go, and then uses his Jump Pack to leap over "Skylon's" front end. He comes down hard as the agents and soldiers aim their weapons at the object. The moonlight reveals the human is now a giant mass of silver liquid, a mass that shifts and changes before everyone's eyes.

It rises from the floor like a snake, sprouting arms and legs from within a large pool of itself. These limbs quickly join a humanoid body that absorbs the remaining liquid, and then runs on high-heeled 'shoes' towards the closest soldier. That soldier fires its machine gun at the assailant, but the bullets either bounce off its liquid 'skin' or slip inside without slowing it down.

In a few seconds, its 'hands' turn into long claws that rake through the soldier's body with ease. Blood spills onto the metal as everyone else in the room automatically takes a step back in surprise. The killer spins around as it completes its evisceration, and grows a purple uniform along its chest, stomach, and waist.

Stephen chokes out, "Fire!" as the being charges an agent head-on. It ducks beneath the path of several bullets as it moves, and quickly digs its claws into the man's chest. Pained gasps escape his throat as the being lifts him off the ground: his gun falls to floor from a shaking hand. More bullets dig into the being's body, with the same minimal effect as before.

Winston stares at this humanoid and recognizes a purple "T" emblazoned on its uniform. He growls out a curse: Talon sent this assassin. He doesn't know for what purpose, but he won't let it succeed.

The skewered agent slumps against the being's form as he bleeds out. The being then draws his body back in one hand and flings him like a baseball at the rest of his group. The agents dive out of the way, or get slammed with the full weight of their dead comrade. Either way, they are out of the fight for the moment. The other soldiers run out of the hanger to get help, or better weapons.

The being turns to face Director Hillier. Purplish-pink eyes shine as it sprouts a white-toothed grin. It comes at him low, claws sparking against the metal as it runs. Stephen stumbles back, but not quick enough to get away. In an instant, the being is less than a foot away from him.

In another instant, Winston is between the two of them. His armored left arm pushes against the being's slash, and the claws scrape against reinforced metal. The being looks up at Winston, its eyes wide at his sudden arrival.

"You won't hurt the Director!" Winston shouts as he shoves the being back with his muscled left arm. He follows up his move with a solid right hook to its face. The strike sends it spinning through the air, and then skidding across the floor. Its 'cheek' ends up caved into its 'skull' as it stops. Winston grunts loudly as he feels his bestial anger start to kick in. As long as he stays focused, he knows he will win.

"Ohoho," the being says in a synthesized female voice as it starts to twitch and writhe like a seizure victim, "I don't want him, love. I want what he's trying to build. Well, actually, Talon wants that."

The being lurches upright, and Winston's eyes widen as its cheek quickly reforms itself. Its eyes keep their widened state, its grin now a content smirk as all damage it sustained vanishes from sight. Its body now looks noticeably female, its uniform hugging its curves like it was painted onto the 'skin'.

"I wanted a challenge," 'she' admits, "and you look like just the animal to give me one!"

For a second, Winston sees Tracer grinning widely in light of one of her jokes. The moonlight shatters that image away, leaving only a silver Tracer lookalike in its place. She doesn't have her goggles, her uniform, weapons, or even her Chronal Accelerator, but Winston still recognizes the Tracer he thought was gone.

It's the face that confirms it the most. That spiked hair, that youthful grin, that thin form, those wide eyes. He doesn't want to believe what he's seeing, but he can't deny what's in front of him.

"L… Lena?!" Winston chokes out, his fear leaking into his voice. "Is that… you?"

"It's 'Civa' now, monkey," she answers with the same accent as Tracer, albeit more mechanical. "That's got a bit more ring than 'Tracer', doesn't it?"

"But… how? What happened to you?"

"I just saw the truth of the world, is all. I was weak when I should have been strong. I've changed for the better. Just look at me!" She rubs her hands across her accentuated assets with slow sways of her hips. This spreads the blood on her 'claws' across her form, an obscenely-thin coating that is absorbed in seconds.

"You think killing innocent people is 'better'?" Winston demands as tears spring in his eyes. "That's not the Tracer I know. That's not the hero I know."

"I'm not what I used to be, Winston; no one is. You've got your mind stuck in the past. The 'glory days', the 'heroes', are gone." She flexes her finger-claws as she talks, the points still stained with human blood.

"Heroics aren't worth bollocks against survival," she continues as the remaining agents try to flank her position. "People kill, pillage, and abuse others to live, if pushed hard enough. Talon knows that only the strong survive, and I'm now one of them."

Two agents fire at the same time from the right, and Civa sidesteps every bullet they shoot. Her feet move like she's dancing as she tucks and bends her upper body to avoid each projectile. Through it all, her eyes don't break away from Winston's. The agent's guns eventually click on empty chambers, and then clatter to the ground as their wielders drop them from their hands.

"Pathetic!" Civa taunts as she turns to face the Director. "You all are weak. Weak!" The man doesn't move out of total confusion as to what he should do.

Civa takes advantage of his indecisiveness with raised claws and a sprint that puts Olympic runners to shame. Winston's brain reacts quickly enough for him to draw his Tesla Cannon and fire in that general direction.

The weapon's automatic targeting locks onto Civa's moving body. Supercharged electricity ripples across her liquid 'flesh', and she gives a very human cry of pain as her form bubbles and froths. The sound is so realistic that Winston suddenly fears he's doing the wrong thing. But, he holds down the trigger even as she reverts to a steaming liquid mass beneath the high voltage. Her voice echoes slightly in the large hanger, ringing in every open set of ears.

The Tesla Cannon eventually runs out of energy, and Winston shoulders the device for it to recharge as he lumbers over to Director Hillier. Lightning arcs across the purple-and-silver liquid as Winston draws a Shield Projector Disk from a pocket in his armor. He slams it down on the ground, and it quickly spreads a large turquoise bubble around its wielder and the adjacent human.

"You aren't Tracer," Winston shouts as he readies the Tesla Cannon for another attack. "I won't believe it! You're just a copy, a monster!"

The liquid pool has no mouth to respond with. It instead starts to reshape itself, growing arms and legs once again. Winston fires the Cannon at the shifting form, and it melts back down beneath the lightning. The barrier vanishes a few seconds later, but the ape keeps his focus on the liquid. He can't allow it to look like Tracer again; once was enough of a nightmare for him.

Again and again he fires; again and again the liquid tries to change itself. It gets a bit farther each time before the Tesla Cannon forces it back down. Eventually, Winston sees Civa's grin return despite the energy coursing across its form. He then hears her laugh, starting with a chuckle that moves up and down the musical scale. The chuckle turns into a chortle, and then a cackle when the Tesla Cannon doesn't affect her form at all.

"Yes, yes!" Civa shouts as the lightning now glances off her hardened 'skin' and adds an intimidating edge to her appearance. "Give me more! More power, more energy, more conflict!"

Winston drops another barrier, mostly for the Director, but resumes fire a second too late. Civa runs up to the barrier, and through it, without stopping. Her body then flashes bright pink as it melts into base particles mid-step.

The lightning hits only air as Civa rides around the individual atoms, akin to Tracer's 'blinking' with the Chronal Accelerator. Winston's brain works fast enough for him to see the process take place, but he doesn't fully believe what he sees. Civa reforms right beside him, in front of his cannon.

She whispers a quick, "Gotcha!" before she slashes into his armored belly with a sharpened arm-blade. The blade slips through the armor's rivets and cracks with surgical precision.

Winston lets out an, "ARRGH!" as he feels blood leak from the wound. He then gains a front-row seat to Civa giving Director Hellier a bone-crushing hug from behind. He hears the Director's bones snap and crack beneath inhuman pressure. The man's screams are cut short when Civa shoves his head right between her breasts.

Winston's stomach lurches as Civa absorbs the Director's entire body in seconds, akin to a python swallowing something much larger than its own head. Civa's upper body bulges out like a snake's would to accommodate the man's mass, and then reforms back to its former state. The process takes just a few seconds to complete, and Civa tops it off with a guttural, "BURP!"

"Well," she then comments to the silent males around her, "that was filling!"

Her eyes then flicker as her systems process the huge amount of information the Director's brain matter, and DNA, had stored up. Winston looks on in shock, unable to make himself move to do something against her. The agents stare with jaws dropped, their thought pattern pretty close to Winston's right now.

Civa's eyes snap back into place, and she gives Winston a cheeky grin with a lick of her 'lips'. The gorilla's glasses tremble on his nose as the last bits of denial in his mind grasp hanging shards of truth. His heart thunders with anger at what he's just seen, more than his brain can hold back.

"Yeah, that's right," Civa taunts in a sing-song whisper only Winston can hear, "I just killed him. He was weaker than me: he deserved to die. Only the strong survive."

Her grin turns feral as she flicks a long, pink tongue from her open mouth. Winston connects it to the fanged image of a big cat, or a poisonous snake, just about to attack its prey. She takes slow steps forward, no one having the guts to intervene with whatever she plans to do.

"I see your flaws, Winston." Civa's voice isn't affected by her grimacing visage. "All those smarts, but no logic. All that strength, but no power. You're next to die, monkey."

Winston hears his glasses shatter on the floor: he doesn't care how they fell off his nose. His vision turns red as his clotting wound. A thunderous roar barrels out of his chest. His lips peel back to reveal sharpened teeth all his own. The air around Winston shakes as he becomes Primal.

"Oh, yes," Civa yells against Winston's battle cry, "fuck yes!" Her face shifts back to a more human appearance, a counterpoint to Winston's unleashed anger.

"That's what I want to see, you damn, dirty ape!" she continues as the agents and soldiers in the background start to step back. "Show me what you've got! COME AT ME!"

Winston pounds his chest and stands on his back legs as Civa's claws change back into normal fingers, and then curl into hardened fists. The ape's eyes shine bright red as similarly-colored lightning arcs across his armor. He thunders forward, and Civa charges at him in kind. Their collision sends a blast of air through the hanger, and the remaining agents are pressed against the walls.

Winston's larger size forces Civa back, her heels scraping along the floor as she tries to generate an equal amount of force. Her 'hands' enlarge and swallow his massive fists: the cold touch forces Winston to pull back. Civa advances as her 'hands' spill onto the ground, which her body reabsorbs without pause. She drops beneath Winston's right hook, and then kicks her heeled foot into his chin. The sharp heel digs into the open skin, and he stumbles. He recovers in a moment, and retaliates with a ground-pound.

Civa's body melts down to spread around the impact, and the metal floor buckles beneath her. Globules of liquid metal fly in all directions, but the main part of her surges up Winston's arms. Her inhuman touch feels like Arctic ice to Winston's nerves, and the sensation breaks through his Primal Rage. He snorts and grunts as he scrapes one hand against another, trying to wipe as much of this stuff off as possible.

"It's useless, love," Civa shouts into Winston's mind as she continues to spread. "Whatever you try and kill me with just makes me stronger. Besides, you wouldn't want to hurt darling old Tracer, would you?"

"You are not Tracer," Winston growls through his rage. "You're a monster!"

"A monster? Oy, kettle, the pot's calling you black! What do you think the world thinks you are?"

Winston doesn't give Civa an answer. He feels her smile inside his mind, which terrifies him.

"I'm going to assimilate every atom in your body," she tells him. "Your brain will make a scrumptious entrée to my earlier appetizer. Hell, I may not have room for those soldiers. They'd make a wicked dessert, though!"

Winston resorts to smashing the ground with his hands to break Civa's grip on his mind, and body. Despite his punches causing small craters in the floor, the inhuman liquid sticks on like glue. The armored gorilla slumps to the floor as his Primal Rage fades away. All that's left is cold, confused movements.

Civa's form spreads to Winston's head and face. Winston feels his brain start to shut down as his limbs don't do what he wants. Fear makes his heart beat a mile a minute. He tries to do something, anything, to stop this change, but nothing works. He looks to his consumed hand as he feels the skin break apart beneath the goo. It shouldn't be possible, but it's happening before his eyes.

Then, a soldier comes up to Winston. He shouts something Winston can't hear as he lowers the barrel of a flamethrower to the ape's body. Winston only has time to shut his eyes before the soldier envelops his body in fire. He feels his uncovered fur singe and burn, and the covered parts quickly warm up. Civa screams in his ears, and brain, as her 'flesh' is cooked under super-heated temperatures.

Her cold touch slides off his body much faster than she got on. Her screams vanish once she fully flows off him, and he instantly rolls away to try and douse the fire. The soldier continues to burn the liquid silver mass as it bubbles and boils like water on a pot. It doesn't evaporate, but the outer skin keeps turning black before new coating grows in its place.

The acrid smell of burning skin spreads through the hanger as Civa's body flows across the floor. The soldier moves as quickly as he can after it, intent on keeping her pinned down. At the same time, a few soldiers and agents rush to Winston's side with fire extinguishers. The gorilla's body is soon covered in flame-retardant foam, which his brain barely registers against his earlier pain.

As the flame-wielding soldier continues his assault, Civa starts to laugh again. She continues to laugh as she quickly moves over to the "Skylon" spacecraft, and climbs up the landing gear. She moves like slime in reverse, going against gravity. The flames that lick against her free-flowing body don't slow her down anymore, but the man continues to burn in desperation.

Once on top of the vehicle, away from the flamethrower's range, Civa quickly reshapes herself into Tracer's body again. The last burn marks she took are quickly swamped by a new coating of liquid metal. She looks down at the attacker with vengeful rage, her pink eyes beacons of her anger against the moon's softer light.

Suddenly, her face shifts into the same fanged visage from a few minutes ago. Her tongue extends to an absurd length as a few wisps of smoke rise from the flamethrower's nozzle. Her anger turns into unearthly happiness. The soldier keeps the weapon aimed at her as the whole hanger starts to shake from something huge arriving.

"Cheers, love!" she shouts to the soldier as the hanger roars with the noise of a descending airship. "The cavalry's here! Give old "Chimpston" my best!"

She then leaps towards one of the hanger walls and digs liquid metal claws into the solid frame. The soldier looks on as Civa spider-climbs her way up the wall, and even across the ceiling, to slip out of the hole she created in the skylight. The loud thrum of jet engines comes from above the hanger a few moments later as a Talon airship streaks off into the night sky.

By this point, Winston is barely breathing as the soldiers and agents try to keep him conscious. She hadn't heard anything Civa had said since she tore off his skin like an old scab. Medical officers rush in with a stretcher and burn treatment kits, and some of the agents turn away to start making the necessary calls.

The death of Director Hellier leaves a power gap in the British Air Force's hierarchy. That gap must be filled as soon as possible. People are informed, and plans are made. Only glancing thoughts are given to why Civa did this: the main focus is on what will come from it.

Winston's eyes flutter shut as he tries, and fails, to rationalize just what he faced tonight. He slumps to the floor, Civa's screams and taunts still ringing in his ears. Her voice blends with the old Tracer, the two becoming one and the same in his memories.

'Lena… Tracer… what have you become?'