Overwatch Command Ship...
Over the Atlantic Ocean...
Doom Slayer's POV
This suit's getting old.
Wearing my old Marine suit, consisting of a small green shirt, green pants with kneepads, boots, and a light grey helmet, I inspected the Praetor Suit in the privacy of a storage area. The one called Hana was busy with her video games, Lena was piloting the ship, and Brigitte was modifying her own suit of armor.
There's some rust on the abdomen and on the left shoulder from the demon's claw marks.
I sighed as I began searching for some heavy metal primer.
This thing's damn near indestructible, but...the rust is going to be its downfall.
Brigitte: Hey.
What?
Turning my head, Brigitte stood at the entrance to the storage area, staring at me with curiousity.
Brigitte: What are you up to?
Nothing important.
Walking towards the empty Praetor Suit, she circled around it, inspecting it herself.
Brigitte: Those things sure did a number on your suit.
I know. What do you want?
Brigitte: I could patch it up for you.
?
Brigitte: At a price, of course.
And that price is...what exactly?
Shrugging to her, she responded.
Brigitte: I want unfettered access to the suit.
Wha?
Brigitte: Despite our previous encounters, your suit has only taken minor scratches and rust. Meanwhile, Reinhardt's Crusader armor takes more damage in one fight than a new car in a demolition derby. Something that durable has my curiousity going. It makes me wonder what lies within it.
It's just a suit of armor, a really....good....suit of armor, no you can't touch it.
Looking back at the suit, I shook my head and began to rub the primer over the scratches, only to find the woman trying not to laugh at me for some reason.
Yeeeeees?
Brigitte: You're doing it wrong. Lemme see it.
Hey!
Snatching the primer out of my hand, she chuckled as she handed back the primer.
Brigitte: It's not even primer, you goober.
The fuck you just call me?
Looking at the canister, I noticed that the next word beside primer, in a small font, was 'paint'.
Dammit....
Brigitte: I'll go grab my tools.
Wait a-!
She left the storage bay before I could finish.
Second. well...there goes my privacy.
She came back with several canisters of rust primer, paint, and a portable welding torch.
What in the name of hell are you?
Brigitte: Let's get to work!
A Few Hours Later...
Not a bad job at all.
VEGA: All of the damage sustained by demonic forces have been repaired and welded back together. I would say that the repairs were much more than a success.
Yeah, agreed.
VEGA: Miss Lindholm, where did you learn to repair such sophisticated armor?
Brigitte: Now you like the repairs.
I never said I hated it.
Brigitte: A lot of it I learned from experience. Messing around with machines, kinda like my father. I'm a lot like him in that regard, or so I'm told.
VEGA: Torbjörn.
Brigitte: Yeah.
Wait... The little munchkin!?
VEGA: The weapons designer, yes.
WHAT THE FU-!?
Brigitte: But as much as I love working with machines, I've grown to love going on an adventure more.
Tipping over a weapons crate, I sat down on it and listened to her story.
Brigitte: You may have already noticed, but I'm usually around Reinhardt a lot more than my own father.
Yes.
Brigitte: I love my father, don't get me wrong, but...
She looked up at me with a bit of embarrassment.
Go on.
Brigitte: Reinhardt....he's a family friend. To a lot of us, he was a godfather. He didn't have much of a family of his own, so we kinda treated him as one of us. He'd tell us tales of heroes and chivalry growing up. When he retired from Overwatch, he became a lone knight on a quest to bring justice, and I wanted to join him, as,his squire, to make the world a better place.
VEGA: Thus begins your adventure.
Brigitte: Yeah. Something like that.
Looking at my helmet, she spoke again as she rubbed at the mark that lied there.
Brigitte: Looking at your suit, I can tell it has a lot of stories of its own. Probably some on the scale of Reinhardt's. That's what I really want from you. To learn the story of both the man and the suit.
Stories?
VEGA: Sounds like it.
Oh boy. I wouldn't call them srories, but a series of unfortunate events.
VEGA: The stories Walker has often do not have a happy ending.
Brigitte: If anything, they could serve as a learning lesson.
Yeah.
The memories of the past began to repeat themselves in my mind, like a video camara recording the entirety of my life.
A learning lesson.
Hana: We're here!
Huh?
Brigitte: Already?
Hana: Oh, yeah! We're at Carnival!
Lena: Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil...
JESUS WANTS A HUG!
VEGA: Umm....he sure does.
Landing the ship inside an abandoned warehouse, all of us, except for Hana, grabbed our gear and headed out from the ship and into the back alleys of Rio de Janeiro.
Hana: I'm gonna dance my butt off once we're there! And maybe have him give me an autograph or two.
Lena: I want one too, but let's not forget already why we're here.
Looking around at the many makeshift clothelines, I noticed Brigitte lagging behind, doing the same as I was. Elbowing her arm, she stopped to respond with embarrassment.
Brigitte: Oop. Sorry. I'm just...
Looking around, I know the feeling.
Brigitte: It's not often that I'm alone without Reinhardt.
VEGA: Incoming Message....
Hmm?
I began to hear the giant's voice from within the helmet, as well as from everyone else's earpieces.
Reinhardt: No, you're not alone lass.
Brigitte: Reinhardt!
Did we just forget we have comms?
VEGA: Just you two.
Oh.
Brigitte: I forgot we had these earpieces. Did you know?
I shrugged.
Reinhardt: Daa-Hahaha! That's a new one.
Brigitte: Quiet.
Morrison: Anyways.... You should be near the target.
How do we know when we're-.
I began to hear an odd sound coming from the light at the end of the alleyway.
Hana: Lúcio!
Guess we found him.
Lena: Woah, now this is a party!
Brigitte: We may want to go after them before we get lost.
Nodding, we headed towards the light, blinding my visor for a few seconds. Upon adjusting them, I immediately noticed the amount of flair ahead of me.
Woah! What is this!?
VEGA: Carnival is an annual festival in Brazil held across the country four days before Ash Wednesday. The festival is the most popular event of the year in Brazil and represents a last chance to party and over indulgence before the fasting period of Lent beginning on Ash Wednesday.
It's a full on party.
VEGA: The biggest in the world.
Looking around at all the exotic dancers in the streets, the large crowd of people among us that watched, and the massive parade floats that passed by, I stood in amazement.
???: There he is!
???: Y'all ready for this!?
Wha?
Behind the giant float lied a Brazilian native on a DJ booth, on top of a massive float of a frog's head. Hearing the screams of joy all around me, the man began to speak again.
Is that our guy?
???: Lúcio!
Yep.
Lúcio: Let's drop the beat!
*Techno music blaring!*
AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!
Hana: Woohoo!
Lena: Yeah!
Brigitte: It's a bit loud, don't you think?
Hana: Nah! It's good!
Brigitte: Walker?
MY EARS!!!
VEGA: Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do to minimalize the audio.
I KNOW!
Brigitte: Are you alright?
Feeling something push me forward a bit, I turned around to see a security guard pass by from behind me towards Lúcio. Looking up, I noticed a lone helicopter pass over us without any of its lights on.
Strange.
Watching it continue, a lone figure jumped out of said helicopter onto a nearby rooftop.
Brigitte: Walker.
Putting a finger up, I stopped her as I continued to watch the figure in the distance.
Brigitte: What?
VEGA. You seeing this too?
VEGA: Yes. Please hold still. Zooming in for a photo now.
Waiting a few seconds, VEGA revealed to me a closer look at the figure.
Oh shit.
Doom Slayer: Assassin.
Brigitte: What!?
Running towards Lúcio, I pushed and shoved my way through the crowd.
VEGA, Haste. Now.
VEGA: Administering Haste now.
Feeling my entire body go lighter and seeing a yellow glow around the Praetor Suit, I ran through the crowd at a much faster rate. Reaching the float, I lunged at the DJ, going for the tackle as a sniper rifle bullet was heard from behind me.
Lúcio: Woah!
Brigitte: Get down!
*Pow!*