Chronal Disassociation Ch. 62 (Patreon)

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?

“D.Va, 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 D.Mon, 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 D.Va 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 did! 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, D.Mon - 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.

…