Post by Soldier 76 on Aug 26, 2016 19:43:56 GMT
/The date is December 23rd 2057; this is Commander Jack Morrison recording, Overwatch headquarters is closing for the next couple days...Christmas../
/How do I do this? Just talk...well, uh howdy this is Jesse McCree uh recordin I guess, date? Oh it's August 12th, haha...my first log.../
/Fareeha say hello, "hi!" this is Ana Amari, June 2nd, just reporting of mission success in Cairo; we will be heading back soon.../
Logs upon logs of people, Overwatch, human beings. Ancient history to some, 20 years ago. When he'd burrowed through he'd had access to thousands, upon thousands of logs. He'd been practically bombarded with it. Data, information, personal and otherwise. Non-stop. He listened to them on repeat as he shored up the systems he'd crashed through to shut down the hack.
/Gabriel Reyes, on the 6th of January, reporting Blackwatch mission "End Game" was successful, no casualties./
Who are all of them, so vivid and alive, some of these more personal ones were crushingly human.
/Gabe please...I am trying to report...why? Cause I'm the doctor in zis place I have to...hehe oh stop/
/I don't...I don't know how much more...I can do I-No no come in haha, it's fine I'm just making a report Jesse. Sit down you needed to-/
/I think it may be time to retire, zis has been the best years; I vill be sad to see them go/
So many lives, so fascinatingly distinct in ways he'd rarely considered. All of their actions, interconnected yet independent. He curled up as they kept playing, he'd always considered them small, at that size their lives were identical. Yet, listening to their intimate details changed the way he saw them.
/Things are breaking down, Gabe won't talk to me, I don't know what to do the press wants my head, the UN want's Gabes...I...I don't know what to do; god help me.../
/...I saw the explosion, I felt it. We all felt it. Athena recorded every moment till the building collapsed and the headquarters computer went down./
/They will know my name, they will know what I do here, Gabriel Reyes; Overwatch will regret what it did to me./
Their rage, passion, hate, love, they were multifaceted. More complicated were their connections than the network of machines. More deep were their sensations. Playing on repeat.
/It's all over./
Their darkest and brightest moments.
He turned it all off. It wasn't fair was it? He'd never had a chance to even try, why should he care? He sat again on the bottom of the tank. Maybe he should try, but he wasn't a real person anymore was he? He was a bunch of false faces. A monster in a tank.
/...I feel obligated to make this first log, uhm, Jack Morrison here, date doesn't matter. This is the first log of the new initiative. I'm not calling it Overwatch, but it is in the spirit that birthed that great organization./
It doesn't matter how you were born, it's what you do with the gift of life that matters. He supposed he'd do some good. Whatever that meant...
/How do I do this? Just talk...well, uh howdy this is Jesse McCree uh recordin I guess, date? Oh it's August 12th, haha...my first log.../
/Fareeha say hello, "hi!" this is Ana Amari, June 2nd, just reporting of mission success in Cairo; we will be heading back soon.../
Logs upon logs of people, Overwatch, human beings. Ancient history to some, 20 years ago. When he'd burrowed through he'd had access to thousands, upon thousands of logs. He'd been practically bombarded with it. Data, information, personal and otherwise. Non-stop. He listened to them on repeat as he shored up the systems he'd crashed through to shut down the hack.
/Gabriel Reyes, on the 6th of January, reporting Blackwatch mission "End Game" was successful, no casualties./
Who are all of them, so vivid and alive, some of these more personal ones were crushingly human.
/Gabe please...I am trying to report...why? Cause I'm the doctor in zis place I have to...hehe oh stop/
/I don't...I don't know how much more...I can do I-No no come in haha, it's fine I'm just making a report Jesse. Sit down you needed to-/
/I think it may be time to retire, zis has been the best years; I vill be sad to see them go/
So many lives, so fascinatingly distinct in ways he'd rarely considered. All of their actions, interconnected yet independent. He curled up as they kept playing, he'd always considered them small, at that size their lives were identical. Yet, listening to their intimate details changed the way he saw them.
/Things are breaking down, Gabe won't talk to me, I don't know what to do the press wants my head, the UN want's Gabes...I...I don't know what to do; god help me.../
/...I saw the explosion, I felt it. We all felt it. Athena recorded every moment till the building collapsed and the headquarters computer went down./
/They will know my name, they will know what I do here, Gabriel Reyes; Overwatch will regret what it did to me./
Their rage, passion, hate, love, they were multifaceted. More complicated were their connections than the network of machines. More deep were their sensations. Playing on repeat.
/It's all over./
Their darkest and brightest moments.
He turned it all off. It wasn't fair was it? He'd never had a chance to even try, why should he care? He sat again on the bottom of the tank. Maybe he should try, but he wasn't a real person anymore was he? He was a bunch of false faces. A monster in a tank.
/...I feel obligated to make this first log, uhm, Jack Morrison here, date doesn't matter. This is the first log of the new initiative. I'm not calling it Overwatch, but it is in the spirit that birthed that great organization./
It doesn't matter how you were born, it's what you do with the gift of life that matters. He supposed he'd do some good. Whatever that meant...
