- Doomsday - Volume One: Gods and Monsters

Chapter 90: Revelations

[Thousands of miles away, somewhere within the Indian subcontinent]

Gerard's unmarked jet touched down upon the dark runway, the craft jolting as it made contact with asphalt, disturbing him from window gazing. The sky, a strange and unusual scarlet red colour, throughout the entirety of his voyage, deeper than any red he'd ever seen, and news reports had been confirming similar phenomenon globally, with no real answer to explain why.

It reminded him of an old rhyme his grandmother would repeat to him in his youth;

Red sky at night, sailor's delight,

Red skies in the morning, sailors take warning.

Mariners had used the phrase for hundreds of years, a flawed method of determining whether good weather was coming their way. Red sky at night indicated good weather, while red skies in the morning said a storm was brewing. A stern warning from up above, not to set out for sea for risk of losing one's life. Yet, it was never good to put much stock into superstitious rhymes from ages long past, he lived in the modern world, they had long surpassed the need for such simple behaviour...

He had been sent into the middle of nowhere it appeared, lush, dense jungles and forests as far as the eye could see. Somehow on this planet there still appeared to be places uninhabited by humans, untouched for centuries, free from the controlling grasp of progress. It was idyllic, or at least it would have been if there had been a warm shower and coffee machine nearby, commodities the Frenchman couldn't live without.

Overwatch's most talented spy hadn't been sent on a mission like this before, it was highly unusual and irregular, and he himself had yet to understand why he had been chosen for this particular endeavour. Perhaps they had finally recognized his alluring charms and suave demeanour after all this time? He couldn't help but sigh heavily knowing his innate gifts were lost on the world, an artist underappreciated in his time. Amelie appreciated his personality despite what everyone else believed. The luck he had drawn to get that woman to fall for him was a one in a million chance, and knowing that, he couldn't help but feel content with what he had already.

The jet's turbulent landing soon came to a halt, slowly skidding to a snail's pace along the tarmac. It was a stark juxtaposition between nature's green and humanity's black, defacing the very dirt it had been built upon. It didn't help that the weather appeared to be taking a turn for the worse, the clouds seemingly following him wherever he went. He promptly arose from his seat, adorned in his very best suit and well groomed hair, to match his fine pencil moustache.

The pilot opened the door wide for the spy, the two only speaking shortly, he hadn't met this person specifically before, but nothing stood out that appeared out of the ordinary, just a regular guy. Lacroix unfurled his wide-brimmed umbrella, held tight within his clutches, descending the ramp. And yet, as he descended he could feel the pilot's stare digging into the back of his neck. It was uncomfortable, but perhaps he was simply keeping an eye out, it was understandable, not even Gerard knew exactly where they were, or who was out there...

He stood at the base of the stairs contemplating his surroundings, entirely confused. Besides the runway, there didn't appear to be any sign of human civilization at all, simply the darkening sky and treeline. He had known originally when given the task of travelling into the middle of nothing that it wouldn't be a metropolis, but he expected a little more than this. Yet, this wasn't some small time operation, no, this was a task handed down by Petras himself. Supposedly he had been given a tip from an 'old war hero' about some proposition, but beyond that the spy knew nothing more. He was simply gathering information as he always did, but this time it felt much different, more significant.

It was at this very moment that he realised how humiliating the whole situation was. He had prepared as well as he possibly could, dressed from head to toe in class and style, left in the middle of the barren wilderness. And, as the minutes dragged on, it became more likely to the Frenchman that this whole situation was some elaborate ploy by Reyes or Morrison to make him look the fool. Perhaps a camera man would appear from behind a tree and capture his anger and sadness, to be passed around for all of Overwatch to see.