02:44 AM
Rabat, Morocco
The night was cloaked in shadows as Omen materialized in an alleyway, his ethereal form blending seamlessly with the darkness. His footsteps echoed softly as he wandered the alleyways of Rabat. The moon cast an eerie glow, illuminating his path as he ventured towards his destination. Cypher's intel had led him here, to the heart of the city, in pursuit of the elusive crime syndicate known as the "Zala Alshabah."
As Omen ventured deeper into the twisting streets, his senses sharpened, attuned to the slightest hints of danger and intrigue. Morocco's vibrant cityscape enveloped him, its rich tapestry of sights, sounds, and scents serving as a backdrop to his mission. Finally, Omen arrived at his destination, a dilapidated building that stood as the rumored stronghold of the Zala Alshabah. Moonlight bathed the scene, casting an ethereal glow upon the crumbling walls.
Omen took a moment to observe the building. He then activated the secure communication device that linked him to Cypher. "Cypher, I'm here," he spoke. Through the crackling comms, Cypher's voice was heard. "You're nearing the entrance. Proceed with caution," he whispered. "I've hacked into their surveillance systems. I'll be your eyes and ears from here on." Omen nodded, acknowledging the guidance provided by his unseen ally.
He phased through a wall near the entrance, avoiding detection with ease. Remnants of memories flickered at the edge of Omen's consciousness, but he pushed them aside, determined to fulfill his end of the bargain. He ventured deeper into the dimly lit corridors, his steps silent and purposeful.
Cypher's voice crackled through the comms once more, relaying information. "Two guards ahead. Take them out," he said. "I know," Omen replied as he drew out his Ghost. As he rounded a corner, his met the vigilant gaze of the guards. Without hesitation, he unleashed his monstrous prowess, dispatching them with a deadly efficiency that sent shivers down their spines. The shadows whispered their final breaths as Omen continued his relentless pursuit.
Cypher's voice guided him through the labyrinthine maze of the syndicate's hideout, alerting him to traps, hidden adversaries, and vital points of interest. "These people hurt the innocent. Don't be so kind to them, Omen," Cypher whispered. As he phased through another wall, he nonchalantly replied, "I don't intend to."
As Omen drew closer to the heart of the stronghold, a surge of Radiant energy permeated the air, electrifying his senses. "You're almost there, Omen. Keep your focus. The leader of the syndicate is just beyond this door," Cypher's voice resonated with a steely determination.
With a surge of adrenaline, Omen phased through the door, his monstrous form filling the room. The leader of the Zala Alshabah stood defiantly, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and arrogance. "You cannot stop us, monster!" he taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance. "We are the Radiant future!"
Omen, fueled by a blend of wrath and justice, unleashed his formidable powers, clouding the whole room in darkness. His every move was a testament to the depths of his monstrous transformation.
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2 days ago
"Tell me, Cypher. I need to know," Omen urged, his voice tinged with urgency and curiosity. Cypher met his gaze, his expression serious yet composed. "I'll share all the information I have, but it comes with a condition. Will you entertain the terms of our bargain?"
"And what would that condition be?" Omen inquired with his otherworldly voice. A subtle smile tugged at the corners of Cypher's lips as he revealed his demand. "In exchange for the information you seek, I require a favor. A task that only you, Omen, can accomplish."
Omen's ghostly form flickered as his curiosity piqued. "Speak, and I shall consider your request."
Cypher leaned in, his voice a mere whisper. "There is a crime syndicate of Radiants known as 'Zala Alshabah' operating in the shadows of Rabat, Morocco. Their reign of terror has caused innocents to suffer. My Nora-" Cypher's voice trailed off, memories and emotions weighing heavily upon him. After a moment of reflection, he chose to withhold the rest of his story. "I want you to to break in and destroy the syndicate. Simple as that. What do you say?"
A sense of purpose ignited within Omen, the shadows that composed his being pulsating with newfound determination. The quest for answers had now intertwined with a higher calling, a chance to help cleanse the world of the corruption that threatened to consume it. Perhaps, by taking on the offer, his existence will finally have meaning. He took a moment to consider the offer before he replied. "It will be done," iron resolve resonated within his voice.
Cypher nodded, acknowledging the weight of Omen's commitment. "Once you have accomplished your task, return to me, and the information you seek shall be yours."
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Present day
Omen stood victorious amidst the wreckage of the defeated syndicate. The room was filled with blood and an eerie silence, broken only by his shadowy breath. Cypher's presence filled the comms with a sense of satisfaction apparent in his voice. "Well done, Omen. You've fulfilled your part of the bargain. Come see me immediately."
Omen's gaze swept across the chaotic scene. The remnants of the syndicate's stronghold lay in ruins before him, a stark reminder of the havoc he had unleashed. In that moment, a profound realization washed over him like a chilling gust of wind. Though the syndicate may have been far from innocent, the extent of the devastation left him grappling with the depths of his own monstrous transformation.
As the gravity of his actions settled upon him, Omen couldn't help but question the nature of his past self. Has he always been a creature devoid of empathy and driven solely by a merciless instinct to kill? Did he once possess a moral compass, now lost amidst the shadows that consumed him? The weight of these unanswered questions hung heavy in the air, stirring a profound sense of self-reflection within Omen's tormented soul.
As the weight of his emotions began to settle upon him, Omen's body began to levitate. His figure then dissolved into nothingness, leaving no trace behind. The room, now devoid of his presence, was soon infiltrated by a swarm of guards. "Boss! Are you alright?!" their voices echoed, quickly fading to an eerie silence as their gazes fell upon their fallen leader's lifeless body sprawled on the floor. The room grew heavy with disbelief and horror as the realization sank in. "What kind of f**king monster would do this?!" they whispered in hushed tones, their voices trembling with shock and fear.
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08:00 AM
Valorant Headquarters
Y/n's eyes fluttered open at the unexpected knock on the door, interrupting his peaceful sleep. Rubbing his eyes, he groggily made his way to answer it. As he swung the door open, he was met with the familiar figure of Sova standing before him.
"Sova, what brings you here so early?" y/n asked, trying to shake off the sleep from his voice. A faint smile played on Sova's lips as he glanced at y/n. "Good morning, Glitch. I hope I'm not too early. Are you free this morning?" he inquired, his tone holding a hint of intrigue.
Curiosity piqued, y/n nodded, a question mark etching its way onto his face. "Yes, I am. Come in," he said as he stepped aside to allow Sova into the room. Sova stepped inside, casting a curious glance around the still sparsely furnished space. "Your room still looks quite empty," he remarked, his eyes scanning the bare walls. Y/n chuckled sheepishly. "Yeah, I haven't had much time to set it up yet," he explained. Sova nodded understandingly. "So, what brings you here, again?" y/n asked.
Sova's smile widened. "Well, Jett prepared breakfast for all the present agents today, and she's known to be a good cook! She used to be a chef, after all. We're gathering in the kitchen, and I thought you might want to join us," he explained, his voice had a hint of excitement in it. The mention of breakfast and Jett's culinary prowess made his stomach growl in anticipation. Hastily, he threw on some better clothes, splashed water on his face, and fixed his hair, making sure to present himself in a somewhat presentable manner. "Alright, I'm ready. Let's go," y/n declared.
Together, y/n and Sova made their way to the dining room. As they entered, the sound of confetti popping and cheerful shouts filled the air. To y/n's surprise, the room was filled with colorful balloons, and a large cake with "Welcome Glitch" written on it took center stage.
The other agents of the Valorant Protocol stood there, beaming with excitement. Sova, Sage, Jett, Phoenix, Yoru, Killjoy, Raze, and Skye were present, each wearing a warm smile and a party hat. Although reluctant, Yoru also wore a party hat with a sour face, much to everyone's amusement. The sight of the decorations and the joyful atmosphere overwhelmed y/n. "Is all this for me?" he asked, a mix of surprise and gratitude in his voice.
Sage stepped closer to y/n, her voice filled with warmth. "Yes, Glitch. We wanted to celebrate your joining the Valorant Protocol and the successful completion of your first mission. You're part of our family now."
It was a good thing he took the time to get ready. Otherwise, he would have looked terrible on the special occasion.
Y/n's heart swelled with appreciation and a sense of belonging. "Thank you, everyone. I truly feel welcomed," he expressed, his words filled with sincerity.
"Bet you didn't expect that one, bud! This is all for you! Even gloomy Yoru here's wearing a party hat," Phoenix exclaimed with a wide grin, playfully smacking Yoru on the back. Yoru let out a low grunt and shot Phoenix a half-hearted glare, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.
Raze, never one to miss a chance to add her explosive energy to any situation, chimed in, "I suggested fireworks, but Sage said no. Soooo... balloons are all you get."
Jett delicately placed the cake on the table. "I made breakfast. We'll save the cake for later, okay?" Her eyes sparkled with genuine warmth. "Oh, I'm Jett, by the way. If you ever need someone to talk to, count on me," she said, nudging y/n's elbow.
Skye, a natural lover of animals, beamed at y/n. "Pleasure to meet you! Do you happen to like animals? I've got some adorable friends I could introduce you to!"
Before y/n could respond to any one of them, Killjoy's excitement filled the room. "Everyone, let's gather for a picture!" she exclaimed, spinning around to search for something. Her eyes lit up when she spotted a small robot dutifully cleaning the room. "Maxbot! Come take a picture of us, please!" she requested, and the diligent little bot eagerly approached, equipped with a set of camera lenses.
The agents gathered closely together, squeezing in for the snapshot that would forever capture this moment of celebration. With a satisfying snap, Maxbot immortalized the camaraderie and joy shared among the agents.
As they dispersed and the festivities continued, y/n couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the warmth and acceptance he had experienced from this extraordinary group. He then understood, that despite using callsigns to address each other, they weren't just with one another for missions. They were more than just teammates; they were like a family bound by trust, loyalty, and a shared purpose. Y/n was happy that he had found his place among these exceptional individuals.
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Meanwhile, in Cypher's room
Omen stood silently in Cypher's dimly lit room, the weight of forgotten memories bearing down upon him. He had fulfilled his part of the deal with Cypher, and now it was time to unveil the secrets that shrouded his identity.
Cypher, true to his enigmatic nature, began to speak in his measured tone, "I am a man of my words, Omen. And now it is time for me to reveal what you seek."
Omen's attention sharpened as Cypher spoke his true name, "Doctor Frederick Wallace. That is who you were". The name echoed in his mind, stirring a long-lost sense of familiarity. An intense sharp pain struck Omen on the back of his head.
"Doctor Wallace! How have you been?"
"You were not just a scientist, but a great one," Cypher continued, his voice laced with a mix of admiration and sadness. "Under the employ of Kingdom, you led a team of brilliant researchers. Your intellect and expertise were revered. You were on the path to greatness."
A surge of conflicting emotions coursed through Omen's veins. He felt a sense of pride and accomplishment tinged with sorrow, for he couldn't clearly recall the achievements that once defined him.
"We are glad to have you working with us, Doctor Wallace."
"What happened, Cypher? How did I become... this?" Omen asked further.
Cypher's eyes, hidden behind his mask, seemed to reflect the weight of a painful memory. His gaze grew distant for a moment, his voice lowering as he recounted the tragic events that led to Omen's transformation, "During one of your experiments with radianite, a terrible accident occurred. It forever altered your existence. The details of that day are painful, and the consequences are what you carry now."
"FRED!!!"
"Abort! Abort immediately!"
Omen's "heart" pounded in his chest as he grasped at elusive memories, desperately trying to piece together the fragments of his former life. What had become of him after that tragic event? Did he have a family? Friends?
Inquisitiveness laced his words as Omen inquired further, "What about my family? Did I have anyone before this? Were there people who cared about me before?"
Cypher's gaze softened, his dark eyes reflecting a depth of understanding. "For answers to those questions, you must seek out Viper. She possesses knowledge that only she can share. Approach her, ask her about your past. If she refuses, there is another who may help—Glitch. He will be able to tell you some things."
Omen was not yet acquainted with this person. "Glitch?" He was sure he had not heard of the callsign before. "Ah, apologies. I forgot that you haven't met him, the new agent." Cypher replied. "Then if Viper refuses, return to me, and I will reveal what I know.""
"Fred,"
Confusion washed over Omen. Viper, the cold-hearted agent with a penchant for deadly toxins, was to be his guide. He couldn't help but wonder what truths she held within her grasp.
"Fred, I-" "Whose voice is that?"
Puzzled, Omen questioned, "Why should I go to Viper?"
A momentary hesitation gripped Cypher, his usually composed demeanor faltering. "I believe she can tell you more about your past. It's better coming from her. She has ties to your history. I believe her perspective will offer you a more complete understanding," Cypher replied.
With a nod of gratitude and determination, Omen left Cypher's room, the door closing behind him. He walked down the corridors, his mind swirling with newfound knowledge and unanswered questions.
"I love you,"
"I am Frederick Wallace..."