The Hunter | Overwatch

Refuge of Shadows

The team retreated through the remnants of Spadina Road, their breaths visible in the chill night air as they finally reached the looming structure of Davenport House. Inside, engineers quickly wheeled their equipment into the safety of the stone corridors, the soldiers following close behind, exhausted and grim-faced. Jack led the Overwatch troops into the main hall, conducting a roll call while Chase barked orders, her tone sharp with tension.

"Report!" Chase demanded, turning to Torbjörn, who'd arrived last, face drawn and jaw clenched with frustration.

"The initiation sequence," Torbjörn began, his voice thick with frustration, "the turrets failed to engage. We suspect some components got damaged during transport." He glanced at Sergeant Grayson, who nodded in agreement.

"Damaged components? We can't afford failures right now," Chase hissed, struggling to keep her anger in check. She took a deep breath, willing herself to stay composed. "We need to know if it can be fixed-quickly. We're sitting ducks here."

Shaun's gaze drifted as Chase and Torbjörn discussed options, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Every breath felt short, shallow. He was back there in his mind-on another mission, another time. It was the same feeling, the tightening in his chest, the paralyzing fear that gripped him when he'd lost her...

"Shaun?" Jack's voice cut through, jarring him back to the present. "You good?"

Shaun blinked, forcing a nod. "Yeah, just...tired."

Jack gave him a hard look, clearly unconvinced, but turned away as Chase announced, "We're not done here. Grayson, get those engineers to assess the damage and report back. Jack, we're securing the area. I want every entrance and corridor locked down."

As the soldiers moved to their assigned posts, Shaun felt himself falling into routine, focusing on the objective. Anything to avoid the memories clawing at his mind.

---

Hours dragged by. Davenport House creaked and groaned around them, an old building as much a part of the landscape as the trees surrounding it. Outside, the wind howled, and the omnics seemed to shift in the shadows beyond their sightlines. Shaun paced his assigned hallway, rifle in hand, checking every dark corner and shadow. Anxiety pressed in from all sides. His hand shook slightly as he swept his flashlight down the long, empty corridor.

Focus, he told himself, gripping his weapon tighter. He could almost hear her voice, Lena's, calm and steady, urging him to keep it together. But the memory wasn't comforting-it was an echo of his deepest fear, the terror of losing someone else because he couldn't control himself.

He ran into Jack while looping through his sector, and Jack, always able to see past his defenses, pulled him aside. "You're not yourself," Jack said quietly. "Talk to me."

Shaun shifted uncomfortably. "I'm fine. Just...we've been at this too long, that's all."

Jack watched him, searching his face. "I've seen this before, Shaun. If you're not in this-really in this-you're putting everyone at risk."

Shaun's jaw tightened, irritation rising despite himself. He knew Jack was right. He also knew that the last thing he needed was someone else reminding him of his weaknesses. "I'm good, Jack. Really," he forced out, his voice steadier than he felt.

Jack sighed, not convinced but willing to let it go. "All right. Just don't shut us out."

---

Hours turned to dusk. The engineers had finally managed to patch together the damaged components, reporting that the turret systems should be functional by nightfall. But Chase was rightfully skeptical-nothing about this mission had gone to plan, and each delay only brought them closer to disaster. As night set in, the team bunkered down, watching for any sign of the omnics.

Despite the warmth of the building, Shaun felt a chill prickling over his skin, creeping up from the cold stone floor and settling into his bones. Huddled around a table, Jack and Chase whispered among the senior officers, mapping out the plans for survival and potential retreat. Torbjörn busied himself with tools and parts, muttering frustrations as he tried to salvage the broken Siege components. The engineers, exhausted and visibly shaken, stood in clusters, debating their next move.

Shaun tried to focus, listening to the hum of voices around him, but they soon faded to a distant murmur. He slumped against the wall, fatigue weighing on him, his vision blurring. Just a quick rest, he thought, his eyes drifting shut. But as his eyes closed, he felt himself sinking, as though slipping out of the present and into a memory.

The silence was shattered by the rhythmic thudding of footsteps-heavy, measured, and all too familiar. The ground beneath him trembled. Shaun's heart began to race as he looked up, finding himself back in the streets of Toronto, smoke and ash swirling in the air.

A silhouette materialized through the haze-a towering Titan, looming against the blood-red sky. He could feel its attention, like a weight pressing down on him, and he knew it saw him. A sense of dread washed over him, gripping his chest as he tried to reach for his weapon, but his hands wouldn't respond. His fingers twitched uselessly, paralyzed as the Titan took a single, echoing step forward.

Thud.

Each step reverberated through his skull, louder, deeper, closer. The ground seemed to shudder beneath its weight, and the air was thick with the smell of burning metal. Shaun could barely breathe, his body refusing to move. Sweat trickled down his back, and he fought to calm his breathing, but the panic clawed at his mind, each heartbeat slamming against his ribs.

The Titan took another step forward, its massive form blocking out the sky. Its red eyes bore down on him, narrowing with mechanical focus. The memory of Lena's voice whispered through his mind, but this time, it was twisted, distorted-a ghostly echo that only deepened his fear.

"You're too weak, Shaun. You'll never be strong enough."

He tried to shake his head, to reject the words, but the image of Lena was fading, replaced by the Titan's cold, unblinking gaze. He wanted to scream, to call out, but his voice was trapped, suffocated by his own fear. The Titan's steps grew louder, impossibly loud, until they were the only sound in the world. Its hand, massive and metallic, reached out, the fingers curling toward him like the jaws of a trap.

"No...please...," he whispered, but the Titan kept coming.

Then, he felt it-a glacial cold spreading up his leg, paralyzing him where he stood. He looked down, horror twisting in his gut as he saw his feet frozen in place, veins of ice crawling up his legs, locking him in position. The Titan's hand reached closer, closing in around him as he fought to move, to escape.

A sudden flash-a memory buried deep but undeniable-surged forward, unbidden. He was a child again, huddled in a darkened room, unable to breathe as he heard his parents arguing outside, the shadows pressing in around him. He remembered clutching his knees, too terrified to cry out, too afraid to leave. That same feeling, that same helplessness, washed over him now.

The Titan's hand was inches away, the fingers stretching wide, ready to engulf him. He felt the world begin to close in, the weight of the fear suffocating him, his chest tightening as the Titan loomed closer. He could see every detail now-the intricate circuitry, the dents in the metal, the faint glow of its energy core. The Titan's hand paused for just a moment, and he felt its gaze, intense and unrelenting, as if mocking his helplessness.

"You'll never escape this," the voice whispered, distorted but painfully familiar. It sounded like his own thoughts, twisted into a taunt.

---

A sudden jolt brought him back. He opened his eyes, gasping, his breath shallow and rapid. The cold stone of the Davenport House wall pressed against his back, solid and real, grounding him. His heart thundered in his chest as he looked around, disoriented but slowly regaining his bearings. The warm glow of lanterns illuminated the old room, casting long shadows over the gathered soldiers.

Jack was standing in front of him, his expression unreadable, but there was a flicker of concern in his eyes.

"Shaun," he said softly, his voice like an anchor. "You okay?"

Shaun nodded, though his hands were still trembling. He forced a weak smile, but he couldn't shake the lingering terror of the dream. The Titan might not have been real, but the fear was. And as he looked around the room, he couldn't help but feel that his nightmare was far from over.