Chronal Disassociation Ch. 65 (Patreon)

Their entrance was a lot less bombastic than that of the MEKA Squad, yet the cameras stayed rolling the entire time. Lena wasn’t entirely sure it was interesting to watch a group like theirs quietly deploy on the bottom of an oil rig, and she sure as hell wasn’t sure what type of people would enjoy watching this.

To each their own, she supposed.

Regardless, they stayed quiet. The AI that controlled the enemies was too busy dealing with MEKA Squad's airborne assault. To the kids’ credit, Lena doubted anyone else could have made for a grander distraction than them. Their shared comms had been lit up with more calls than Lena was used to.

Almost every single action that they took was said. Number of enemies? Check. Ammo counts? Check. It was to the point that Lena felt somewhat inferior to their ability to multitask like that.

Then again, they were professional gamers whose entire job was to track a massive amount of resources at any point in time. 

“Al~right, door’s open.” Sombra waved her hand as the purple glow around the security door faded. With a small hiss, the oil rig was open to them. Reinhardt took point, with Winston taking the rear. The rest of them were sandwiched between the two, forming a line in the tight corridors.

The formation they took was not standard, as Overwatch’s usual fights were not in tight spaces. In fact, their doctrine usually came to large, open areas. This was made clear by the armor that Reinhardt wore, and the shields that Winston employed. They were made to shield allies as they pushed forwards, or bounced from cover to cover.

Lena herself was someone that thrived in being unpredictable, and the same could be said for literally everyone else on the team.

Which made the idea of the hallway they were walking through a complete deathtrap, if an enemy with sufficient firepower decided to pelt them from a defensive position.

Thankfully, MEKA was keeping all of that firepower trained on them. In fact, they hadn’t fought a single ‘Enemy Program’, as they apparently called them, since they entered the oil rig. Lena didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.

“Sombra, how far do we need to go?” Lena asked the hacker, who had the map of the place hovering on a screen next to her.

“We’re taking the next…left, then climbing the stairs. After that, it’s a straight shot to the main admin room.”

"Brilliant. Because nothing ever goes wrong in a long, narrow corridor with no cover." Her thumbs brushed the cool metal of the triggers as she spoke, her sarcasm obvious.

Behind her, Winston rumbled, a low, comforting vibration that she felt more than heard, "Statistically, narrow corridors reduce the angles of attack. However, given our team composition..."

"I thought you were the optimist of our little operation, Winston." Archer snorted out as the Spirit walked along. He was, by all accounts, tense. Despite the fact that nothing could realistically hurt him (Or any of them, for that matter. This was a simulation, after all) he was watching everything like a hawk. He had been like this ever since he had seen the oil rig. He didn't even say why he was like this, not even to his partner in crime that was Sombra.

Lena knew because usually, when he did, Sombra would have that tiny little smug smirk that she had more or less copied from Archer.

Right now, Sombra was looking a lot more confused than Lena had seen her before. Or maybe it was for the cameras, who actually knew?

“Contact!”

Reinhardt’s sudden exclamation snapped her out of it. Immediately, she took position, crouching down as the crusader deployed his barrier. In front of them were three enemies, two boar-like and the other squid-like. The boars took notice of them, and were already charging their way down the hallway, while the squid sort of just…stood there?

Whatever, if it wasn’t doing anything, it could be dealt with later. Who knows, maybe it was the simulator’s AI being overwhelmed with all of the additional processing power.

The one-way nature of the shield allowed her to let out a burst from her pulse pistols, straight into the body of the bull that had strafed left. The other one was intercepted by Sombra’s submachine gun. Unlike Lena’s weapon, however, it lacked the stopping power to put it down completely. Where Lena’s had fallen over and disintegrated into blue pixels, this one had made it to Reinhardt’s shield.

The ferocity that the Enemy Program displayed was shocking. Omnics still had a sense of self-preservation, and wouldn’t just charge in like this. Nor would they start slamming their head against the hard light shield hard enough to start breaking portions of themselves off.

Their pause was a mistake.

The squid in the back finally acted. The pixels that had been the defeated Program started to coalesce back into shape. Within moments, the bull was back in play, and was now attacking the hard light shield alongside its ally.

“It’s a repair node!” Reinhardt yelled out over the sound of metal screeching, “Genji, you’re up!”

The cyborg took that to heart, jumping over the shield and making a break for the enemy backline. The bulls reacted, their massive jaws aiming upwards. Reinhardt took that distraction and pinned the right one against the wall, crushing it. The remaining bull was intercepted by nearly four hundred kilos of gorilla, as Winston barreled in with a roar.

That one was impacted by the fist of the scientist, knocking it down to the ground. This was quickly followed up by the shock of his tesla cannon, incapacitating it further.

“Tracer, this one!” Reinhardt’s command was heard, as the bull he had pinned had decided to carve a hole into the wall. The recess allowed the Program to survive the crusader’s pin, but left it trapped. Lena heeded the command, blinking forward and jamming one of her guns into the gap.

With another press of her trigger, the Program was eliminated.

Just in time for Genji to cut off the ‘head’ of the squid, preventing them from resurrecting.

The hallway was once more plunged into silence. It was broken by Archer’s laugh, “Looks like you didn’t need my help after all.”

“Would have been appreciated, you know?” Lena rolled her eyes good-naturedly. To be fair, most of them operated without Archer’s interference. The Spirit was a powerful ace, yes, but it would be foolish of them to rely on him to always be there. As such, the unit cohesion they practiced was mostly to assume that Archer was the occasional fire support rather than any complete assault member of the strike team.

Never mind that he could bulldoze his way through this entire simulation with his eyes closed.

The thing is, this was supposed to be a training mission. To be honest, it felt even less than that, as they weren’t really doing a lot of ‘training’. It was just to drum up the public perception of what MEKA was doing, and it was made obvious when the kids got the flashy side of the operation, while Overwatch got the boring rescue part.

"Right, let's keep it moving before more of those digital nasties decide to respawn." Lena said, twirling her pistols with practiced ease before magnetically holstering them at her hips. The brief skirmish had barely elevated her heart rate, compared to getting in front of the cameras again.

Knowing that this was all just training did let her relax a bit. With recent events (and Archer being Archer) she had been struggling a bit with stress. She had no real way to let out some steam, as sparring in the London base could only do so much. Against an opponent she didn't have any qualms fighting, with no consequences?

She felt almost giddy, now that she was actually doing it. So much so that she could feel her skittishness from the cameras fade as they continued.

Reinhardt grunted in agreement, his armor shifting with heavy clanks as he reformed their line, "Stay sharp! The next encounter might not be so easily routed!"

As they ascended the staircase, another squid decided it was time to block their path. Unlike the previous one that only healed its allies, this one attacked - tentacles, almost paper thin, rocketed outwards, the appendages stretching further than one would have thought. So many that they had almost blocked the entire stairwell.

Lena grinned, as despite the number of them, they were so damn slow that Reinhardt didn't even bother to shield them off, “Hey Genji,” She elbowed the ninja beside her, “Betcha I can hit more of those than you.”

Genji tilted his head quizzically, before realization must’ve set in. While she couldn’t see his face, she could practically hear the smirk, “Loser buys the drinks?”

Lena raised an eyebrow, “Do you even-”

Before she could finish her sentence, Genji had already drawn the larger sword on his back, swinging at the tentacles. By the time Lena had realized it, he had already chopped off at least seven of them.

“Bloody cheater!” With a competitive grin, Lena let loose burst after burst from her pistols, each volley shredding off more appendages. 

Soon enough, they had practically whittled down the squid’s tendrils, and Reinhardt had used the opportunity to charge right into it. The steps of the stairway creaked ominously as the hulking form of the crusader climbed two steps at a time.

His rocket hammer was shoved forward like a battering ram, pinning the squid directly into the ceiling. Reinhardt would have swung to destroy it, but the tight corridors prevented him from doing any more movements.

It was Sombra that dealt the final blow, with a rain of bullets into the squid's head. The metallic crunch of the squid disintegrating into blue pixels echoed down the narrow stairwell. Reinhardt grunted, ripping his rocket hammer free from the ceiling with a shower of artificial sparks.  

"Least they don't make a mess." Lena quipped, blowing an imaginary wisp of smoke from the barrel of one of her pulse pistols, "Though I reckon I still won that bet, Genji."

"Did you now?" The cyborg shot back, crossing his arms, "I got seventeen of them, while I doubt you even reached ten."

Lena blinked, her mouth falling open in mock outrage, "Seventeen? I distinctly counted at least twelve for myself! And half of yours were just the tips, that hardly counts!"

"A severed limb is a severed limb." Genji replied, the amusement clear in his voice, "I prefer my drinks cold, Tracer."

"Keep dreaming, prat."

"Focus, you two," Winston interjected mildly, pushing past them to scan the corridor ahead, "We are approaching the admin room. The simulation's objective states we need to access the main terminal to initiate the 'rescue' sequence."

They continued down the hall. Unlike the narrow stairs, this section opened up into a wider, reinforced antechamber. Heavy blast doors stood at the far end, marked with glowing digital locks.

Lena rested her hands on her hips, feeling the adrenaline ebb. It was just a game, after all. A highly sophisticated, publicly broadcasted game designed for PR.

But as she glanced over her shoulder, her relaxed demeanor faltered. Archer was trailing them, and he hadn't joined in the banter at all. His eyes were narrowed, intensely tracking the seams in the metallic walls and the digital readout of the ceiling lights. His hands rested casually at his side, but his posture was coiled spring-tight.

"Archer?" Lena slowed her pace, falling in step beside him, "You alright, mate? You look like you're expecting the ceiling to cave in."

"Hmm." Archer grunted in response, "More or less. The enemies we've fought just confirmed a little thought I had."

"Whaddya mean we?" Lena raised an eyebrow, even as she started to worry a bit more, "You've hardly done anything!"

Archer snorted in response, before he turned his attention to the glowing digital lock on the heavy blast doors, "Sombra. If you would."

"Already on it." The hacker stepped up to the panel, her fingers dancing in the air as holographic interfaces materialized around her hands, "Let's crack this open, grab our digital VIPs, and get out of this stuffy-"

Sombra stopped. The vibrant purple glow of her hack abruptly flickered, shifting into a sickly, aggressive...pink?

"Sombra?" Winston stepped closer, his heavy footfalls thudding against the metal grating, "Is there a problem?"

"The directory..." Sombra muttered, her brow furrowing as she swiped rapidly across her screens. The usual confident smirk was entirely wiped from her face, "The encryption just shifted. I'm...damn, whoever made this encryption knew what they doing."

She yanked her hands back just as the digital lock on the blast doors sparked violently. With a heavy, grinding groan that sounded far too authentic for a mere simulation, the doors began to part. Sombra's confident smirk came back on, "Course, they're still not any match for me."

"Your back's still pink." Lena pointed out as the lights on the hacker's cybernetics didn't change.

"What?!" Sombra started pawing at her back, a look of alarm replacing her smugness, "¡Mierda!"

"Deal with that later," Reinhardt may have said it seriously, but his amused grin didn't capture that seriousness whatsoever, "We've still got hostages to secure."

The sound of MEKA's fighting grew louder above them as they entered the admin room. Lena was expecting a set of Programs that would stand in for hostages, similar to the Enemy Programs. Only, they didn't.

Instead, what they found was the distinct sight of a human woman sitting down in front of a table. Granted, they had a small veil of blue around them, betraying the fact that they were part of the simulation, but the sight was startling in of itself.

"Oh, you're here."

Add to the fact that the...Hostage Program(?) spoke first. She (because Lena felt uncomfortable referring to the woman as an 'it') wore a stark, form-fitting white dress that stopped mid-thigh, contrasting sharply with opaque black tights and sensible white heels. The garment was deceptively simple, save for the absurdly long, flared sleeves that draped around her like folded wings, and a thick, heavy gold collar resting firmly against her collarbone.

But it wasn't the outfit that made Lena freeze. It was the uncanny, staggering level of detail. The 'Hostage Program' possessed an impossibly lush mane of raven-black hair that seemed to float and writhe around her in the simulated gravity, defying the environment's physics engine entirely. A distinct set pink marks rested on the center of her forehead, drawing attention to piercing, luminescent golden eyes.

"You sure took a while, didn't you?" Those eyes only had one target, however, and it was the almost paralyzed form of Archer himself, "Senpai~♡"

...

A/N: yes.