Chapter Text
TIME TO LANDFALL: 11.42 HOURS.
“First sighting was last night, a scientific vessel off Tsushima.” Sojourn’s voice carried easily over the jet’s roaring engines (Anran wondered if she had cybernetics for that). “Colossus-class, but not a chassis we’ve seen before.”
Anran leaned forward to examine the hologram her squad leader projected from her palm, studying the slowly-rotating image. Patches were missing—obscured by blurry graphic artifacts labeled in Korean.
“The South Korean military has a division dedicated to Gwishin attacks,” said a smooth, simulated voice that seemed to emanate from the walls.
“Correct, Echo.” Anran had quickly gotten used to Sojourn’s stoicism since joining Overwatch, but the commander’s expression was even more grave than usual as she transitioned the hologram to show a flickering feed of a flight of flying mechs facing off against the colossus over the ocean. “Their mobilized—”
“MEKA-squad lost.”
Anran’s neighbors, strapped in on either side of her, bristled.
The interruption came from an omnic she didn’t recognize—one of the strangers who’d joined them at Watchpoint: Zhoushan. Her arms were folded and her head bowed, face obscured below a hood.
Sojourn’s gaze held the omnic for a moment, before she continued: “That’s correct, Iyla. Overwatch is deploying to support the Korean defense efforts, as part of a standing alliance with the Mobile Exo-Force through their field leader, Hana Song.”
Anran didn’t hear what Sojourn said next. She couldn’t let go of the digital visions before her: D.Va and her teammates spinning through the air around the twisting, lashing mechanical monstrosity. One of the Gwishin’s dark metal arms snapped back faster than the recording could track, whipping the smallest of the mechs out of the sky. Anran’s stomach dropped, watching the crumpled suit spin out of frame.
Immediately, the lead mech—even if she didn’t recognize Tokki on sight, Anran could have guessed the pilot by the heart-stopping maneuver—pivoted, taking a frantic dive for their falling teammate.
Her heart thudded in her ears, watching the playback of D.Va’s barely-controlled, unstoppable flight through the colossus’s drone flights and snaking limbs. Anran leaned farther forward, fingers tightening on her seat, only for her heart to stop as the net closed too tight even for Hana Song. One of the colossus’s missiles detonated above her cabin, out of range of her defense matrix. Tokki spun out, and Anran watched in tight-lipped dread as the remainder of MEKA squad folded.
Sojourn’s hologram blinked out. The final image, the last of the mechs, its green light-shield raised and cannons firing desperately into the colossus’s heart, remained burned into the back of Anran’s eyes.
“When we arrive in Busan, I’ll coordinate directly with their captain. You all are on standby. Assess your needs and prep for on-the-ground deployment with rescue-evac priority.” Sojourn stood, one hand holding the straps hanging from the plane’s ceiling. “Dismissed.”
The commander left them to sit in uncomfortable silence, save the jostling rumble of the engines. Beside Anran, her brother leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Wuyang breathed slow, closing his eyes to still himself in an expression she knew well.
She put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Hey.” When he met her eyes, she gave her best smile. “I’m with you. Jiāyóu, yeah?”
Wuyang’s smile was strained. “Easy for you to say.”
Anran snorted, giving him a gentle elbow. “I work best under pressure.”
“Hope you’re happy.” The omnic—Iyla—said from across the aisle. She pushed from her seat and strode past them, unfazed by the shaking of the ship. “Thousands will die to get you in the mindset.”
“What?” Anran blinked.
Iyla didn’t look back. “Not here for games with children.”
Anran’s gut clenched, and she stared after the omnic. A sick guilt welled in her—ridiculous! She wasn’t... she didn’t want this.
Wuyang muttered beside her: “What’s her problem?”
“Ignore her,” Anran said, trying to push the bitter feelings down. “Focus. Make Wuxing proud.”
Her brother rolled his shoulders back, nodding. “Proud.”
Despite her own words, Anran couldn’t dispel the hot, prickly feeling in her chest. Iyla’s sour, sardonic commentary stuck in her head, and she kept making counterarguments in her mind. Criticisms she disagreed with—unreasonable and cruel jabs—always lingered the longest.
When the jet swung around for the final descent, Anran excused herself to the pilot’s cabin, looking over Sojourn’s shoulder at the MEKA base below. Tracer chatted on comms, relaying their ID, and Anran released a breath as the auto-turrets disengaged. She noted their placements, tailored for long-range, pinpoint fire support. Probably dedicated to engagements well off the coast—
“How do you like it?” Sojourn’s voice caught her off guard.
Anran blinked, looking at her. “Commander?”
“The installation,” Sojourn replied. Her chair swiveled slightly, allowing her room to make eye contact. “This is our base of operations for this engagement. I want your assessment.”
Anran sucked in her lower lip, lifting her chin. She studied the site again, taking in what she could as they came in toward the landing pad. “I like our aggressive options. Versatile fire support for meeting the enemy on the incursion. We can lay out artillery support and hold airspace across the harbor.”
Sojourn’s gaze held steady. Even though she said nothing, Anran could feel her reading the implicit but in her words.
She met her commander’s eyes. “These batteries aren’t designed for spreading fire across a web of wide-formation aerial targets. Especially near-range. If the colossus uses drones as heavily as the first engagement, some could get in close and do serious damage.”
Sojourn nodded once, slowly. “Thank you for your input.”
The jet settled with a shudder, the pilot flicking a switch so the intercom projected her voice throughout the ship: “Welcome to Busan, team! Thanks for flying Air Tracer.”
Sojourn moved past Anran, toward the exit ramp. “Lena, lock us up.”
Tracer blinked out of her seat, appearing beside Anran to pat her back. Even her cheery demeanor had a tension to it. “Chin up, luv. This is Overwatch’s specialty.”
When they left her alone in the cockpit, Anran leaned a hand on the back of the co-pilot’s chair and ran a hand through her bangs. She hissed a breath, clearing her head with a good shake. Harder.
She caught up with the Overwatch task force on the landing pad. Sojourn and Tracer disappeared into a meeting, and one of the uniformed MEKA soldiers corralled them. Their troop followed their guide through the base’s grey hallways, lit by strips of cool white and blue light, and everywhere Anran looked, she could feel the cloud hanging over this place.
If MEKA couldn’t stop this thing... what could Overwatch do? She was unsurprised by the dark looks they received from strangers throughout the halls, and by the chilly reception when their guide led them to a final stop at the mess hall. Sparse groups of two or three people sat scattered amongst the long tables.
As the rest of the detachment found seats and gathered food, Anran hesitated by the door. She glanced further up the hall, locking eyes with a young woman at the corner, scrapes and bruises coloring her face and neck. She wore a scuffed and battered crimson armored jumpsuit with the MEKA logo, her black hair shining almost purple in the light. Her dark eyes bored into Anran, who stood there feeling pinned by gaze alone.
The pilot’s expression darkened further, anger sharpening her features. Before Anran could gather anything to say, she disappeared around the corner.
“Earth to sister? Get in here!” Wuyang’s voice pulled her back to the mess hall.
Anran cast one last look up the empty hall, then headed to join her brother and her team.