After anxiously wandering around the streets of this place, you stumble upon another sign -- this one was giant and had a map skewered on it. You looked at your current location, then searched for a route to King's Row; you were new, but you weren't stupid. It appeared that the quickest route was a train about a mile away. You took a deep breath and started to push past the bustling bands of busy British bodies boiling about. Shrouding in your hoodie a bit, trying to pass by unnoticed, you inadvertently took a wrong left and, after hours of subsequent wrong twists and turns, you ended up lost. It had seemed as if you were walking in circles. As the sky grew darker, and the air started to chill, you started to become more and more anxious. Pushing through groups of drunks and all-nighters, your abilities started to kick in. It soon started with slight shoving, but it escalated to throwing. As you dash through the streets, cars skid across the road with you for a little while, as if you were a walking magnet. It wasn't too long that people started to look at you funny, causing you to panic even more. For the icing on the cake, it started to trickle.
It was when the sky was at its darkest, the air was at its coldest, and the rain was its heaviest when you sighed and decided to sit on a curb, bury your face in your arms, and try to think things over. You sat there for a good hour or two before everything got quiet. You paid no mind until you started to hear screaming coming from the distance. You slowly look up and see people running away from your left. Standing up, you brush the dirt off of your pants and investigate. Various sounds can start to be heard clearly. Flashing, gunshots, roaring, explosions. Pushing through alleyways and darkly-lit streets, you saw something you couldn't even bear to describe. You rubbed your eyes multiple times to make sure this wasn't a dream.
The Overwatch, the real Overwatch, was in battle against what appeared to be some sort of resistance. These resistance people had special abilities like the Overwatch, so what else could they be fighting the Overwatch for? There was a sufficiently less amount of resistance members as there were Overwatch members, but nonetheless, it was still an even fight. To give some examples of the extraordinary sight: an old-looking soldier in a white-and-blue letterman jacket and face-visor handling an assault rifle was vigorously brawling against a Grim Reaper look-alike armed with two shotguns. A woman in a white-and-orange jumpsuit seemed to be teleporting here and there as she was yielding two rapid-fire pistols, going head-to-head with a purple -- yes, purple -- woman in a skin-tight, dark purple, leather outfit holding a black sniper rifle. A gorilla in astronaut-like attire and eyeglasses was rampaging at a shirtless hulk of a black male with a prosthetic arm made of gold.
Speechless, you crouched behind a darkly-lit building, wanting to get a closer look. In the mix of debris flying everywhere, objects from every which way being destroyed and profane insults from both parties, you soon decided to root for the resistance. Wanting to give them a bit of a lead, you telekinetically toss a car or two against the Overwatch... Not that it really did anything. Trying to help while not being detected was hard enough, but by this point, the mental strain was too much. A splitting headache soon shattered your train of thought, causing you to crouch down and clutch your head in pain.
As you duck down into a dark corner, you start to hear a faint buzzing noise out in the distance. The noise started to draw closer and closer. When it was as loud as loud can possibly get, you looked up and saw a giant, black aircraft with the word "TALON" written on the sides. It lowered to the battleground and a large, hatch door was opened on one of its sides. The team that was fighting against the Overwatch slowly backed up and retreated into the aircraft. One of them, the Grim Reaper one, turned with a chuckle and spoke in a demonic, unforgiving and inhuman voice.
"Talon will end the pathetic Overwatch once and for all. Just you wait, Morrison.", Is what the cloaked figure said before walking further into the aircraft, the door closing behind him. The vehicle immediately began to hover in the air, flying in the direction from which it came.
Still unnoticed, you take a moment to recap what had just happened. Apparently, the resistance group's name was Talon, and they too wanted to put an end to the Overwatch. With the remaining strength you managed to conjure up, you discretely flee from the scene, cutting through alleyways and crossroads. The headache soon became too much, causing you to collapse on the sidewalk, slowly closing your eyes. The last thing you saw before you blacked out was the leader of the Omnics approaching you with a bundle of disappointment on his robotic face.

YOU ARE READING
(#Wattys2018) Time Out! [Tracer x Male Reader]
FanfictionBorn with telekinesis. Raised by the Omnics. Trained to hunt down the agents of Overwatch. 27 years of rigorous training, only occasionally leaving the Beacon, a large facility where the Omnic scientists constantly tried to strengthen your mind, tu...