WARNING: somewhat graphic violence and cursing!

All rights belong to Blizzard, I merely added a possible future continuation for a character's story.

To Make a Difference

1.

*Om-nom* Is this on? – I made a chronal accelerator! I'm sure I can do this. –*Khm* To all agents of O—*CLANG*— To all agents of Overwatch… Uhm, that's not right…—To the former agents of Overwatch! This is Winston, haha! … Obviously—*Deep breath* Thirty years ago, the omnics declared war. The nations of the world had no answer, until they called upon a small group of heroes. Overwatch was created to rescue humanity from the Omnic Crisis. We became the greatest champions of peace and progress mankind has ever seen! You were chosen because you have powers and abilities that made you… You joined because you… *Siiigh* You already know this… Look. The people decided they were better off without us. They even called us criminals! They tore our family apart… But look around! Someone has to do something! We have to do something! We can make a difference again. The world needs us now, more than ever… Are you with me?

Hanzo found himself watching this stupid, completely uncut video again on his mobile phone while slowly finishing his meal at a small food stall, completely ignoring the somewhat stale flavor. The little booth was the typical place where lower class people went to eat, and its food was nothing special either. It was storm-beaten, and its canopy was barely large enough to sit under on a bar chair and eat your fish and chips or hamburger or whatever on the wooden counter that has also been a target for amateur carving artists numerous times.

In other words, the perfect place for Hanzo to blend in, wearing his usual almost-homeless-looking set of clothes, a large sack containing his robes for battle, his bow and arrows on his back. Since here in the western world people usually had a hard time telling Asians apart, he could easily give himself away as a hipster/homeless Chinese guy.

With a possibly stale hotdog in one hand and headphones plugged in his ears, the thumb on his other hand hovered over the replay button. Hanzo's mind was almost completely blank as he stared at the grinning image of the monkey… oh I'm sorry, ape scientist (what?). He frequently changed his phones as to not to be tracked down by the countless assassins his ex-family sent after him each year. On his former device he found this video one day, so he was sure Genji sent it to him somehow or uploaded it while he wasn't watching… probably during that time when Hanzo KO-ed himself so hard with exhaustion that he had to actually get a room in a hotel and sleep for half a day. This also meant that his brother… no, no, what was LEFT of his brother (god, this was morbid) followed him around at some point. Maybe he was still doing that.

But when Hanzo changed phones, he found himself unable to delete the message and copied it over onto his new one.

- Must be an interesting video, mate – grumbled the old guy from across the counter.

Hanzo glanced up at the chubby owner in greasy T-shirt and a bit pig-like face.

- Excuse me? – the Japanese asked.

- You've been watching that thing, whatever it is, over and over again – the owner pointed out in a bored tone. – I counted five so far.

Crap, five times already?!

- Yah, it's… important, I guess – Hanzo looked back down on his phone, closing the video.

- I'm sure, mate – the old man took his plate.

Hanzo paid then left the booth, walking down the street with slow steps. Where would he rush? It wasn't like he had to get somewhere. There was no one to wait for him anywhere, there was no home to return to. Hanzo looked over the pedestrians hurrying down the cobblestone streets of King's Row. At least they all had some purpose, even if it was only to work, or a meeting, or whatever. Hanzo glanced up at the surprisingly clear blue sky before returning his attention to the street. King's Row might just have been the most beautiful city district ever in London, it mattered little to Hanzo.

In fact, everything mattered little to nothing to him. He had been waiting to die for… 10 years? Maybe 11? In the meantime, he just simply lost interest in the world. It was easier to go this way.

And yet… Hanzo just couldn't die, could he? Every time, every single goddamn time when he faced a life-threatening danger (mostly assassins left and right), he just couldn't lie down and simply die, oh no. His upbringing, his life-long training automatically kicked in, his (apparently still functioning) survival instinct worked overtime, and he simply wrecked everyone with his arrows, his bow, a sword or anything else that he could get his hands on. His winning streak had been extremely impressive.

Wellll, that is, until that fateful night during his usual annual pilgrimage back to Hanamura, to his former clan's castle. First, everything was normal: dumbass guards, a couple omnic that Hanzo completely wrecked without guilt, then got inside to the shrine of his deceased younger brother Genji that held the sword that almost stopped the killing blow. Hanzo set up the incense offering, burning agarwood-sticks and everything. Then that apparently omnic ninja-guy appeared. Of course Hanzo's "survival mode" kicked in immediately, but the things that assassin said disturbed him deeply and ruined his concentration. Everything flew out the window, when the omnic summoned a green dragon from his katana and redirected his own two blue dragons right back at him. Being the master of them, they didn't truly harm him, but still, getting hit by them was not really pleasant. At the end, he found himself kneeling, with a wakizashi at his throat. Right there and then, his instinct finally turned off from all the shock he had faced that night and he was finally, finally ready to die. But no. The Universe had other plans. The omnic spared him, and just to really hit the nail on the head, he also revealed himself to be Genji, having gone through countless operations in order to survive.

Since then, Hanzo's grey world was completely messed up, though it didn't improve one bit. He was conflicted and because of that, constantly annoyed as well.

Genji was still alive somehow!

That thing is not Genji, that's a robot.

No, that was definitely Genji. The bodies didn't match, yes, but who cares about that?

Genji died that day, you fucking did it with your own hands, you sick fuck!

Everything he said matched, even his voice was familiar through that slight cybernetic overtone.

This is a goddamn omnic, that maybe holds your brother's memories, but it is not Genji!

The soul is what counts! It is Genji.

Hanzo hated omnics. His former clan, the Shimadas specialized in illegal arm deals, hired assassinations and drug smuggling, which of course meant, that their incredible uprising started with the Omnic Crisis 35 years ago. They were so powerful and improved that even when Overwatch was created and a certain agent of theirs (Genji/Not-Genji-just-a-stupid-robot) went after them and completely demolished their operations with disturbing precision, the clan still survived. It nourished itself from the somewhat died-down, but still very much present and powerful human-omnic tension across the world. It didn't matter whether the client was human or omnic, the clan was happily of service, for the right price of course.

In fact, this was one of the first lessons his father had taught him: the appearance of the client doesn't matter. The size of the pocket matters. Hanzo took cognizance of it, heck, later he would even deal with some omnics, killed people for them. That did not mean he liked them. No, he was completely, utterly disturbed by them. Everything was just wrong about them. They appeared to be human, most of the time, but they didn't have faces, didn't have body language that could be observed. They acted so life-like, yet they weren't born like humans, they didn't work the same way, they didn't even sense the world around themselves the same way. How could something like that be alive? In Hanzo's opinion, it wasn't, couldn't be alive. They only… mimicked life. It was a very good performance, but it was just a performance.

It had to be.

And yet, Genji was alive that night.

GENJI IS DEAD!

Hanzo almost screamed at himself, but managed to recover and stop a moment too soon. He was out in public. He couldn't start one of his lunatic moments now. It was already bad enough that he basically lost the ability to be happy or to be interested in anything at all. Oh, he told himself lies, of course: he wanted to restore his honor, he wanted to put the ghosts of his past to rest.

Stop lying to yourself. You want to fucking die. That's all.

True. True, true, true.

Hanzo booked a small room for one night in a decent hotel. Prior to his runaway from his family, he transferred most of his money onto a private account that he protected with numerous legal and illegal ways. He traveled the world from that money, but usually, he wasn't spending it like crazy. He ate at cheap places, dressed cheaply, traveled cheaply, he rarely went to hotels. Who needed a place to stay at night when you didn't really sleep? Hanzo sometimes dozed off, but his sleep was light, he jolted up to every sound. But of course, his body was biological and needed real rest from time to time. That was when he booked a night in an acceptable hotel, so he may get some proper sleep, and also to have an argument with himself.

He was starting to develop schizophrenia, or some other type of madness, he was almost one hundred percent sure of it.

His room looked onto a large square (with cobblestone pavement, of course), where literally nothing happened, other than the occasional double decker or other vehicle passing by. It looked like there had been a statue once, its base was still in the middle of the square, yet everything seemed so empty. Hanzo surveyed it for a bit. It was strange that he couldn't see a single living being walking there. Everyone avoided that place, it seemed. Hanzo memorized three escape routes, in case he needed to leave his accommodations in a fast pace, then shrugged and shut the blinds.

He threw himself onto the bed and stayed there, motionless for a good while.

Stop thinking about that robot, it wasn't Genji and you know it.

- What if I know it was him? – he asked himself.

Then you are a fool.

- Always been one, no?

Back then, you were only a fool. Now, you are a fool and also insane.

- And that disproves that it was Genji because…?

He is dead. You killed him with your own hands, remember?

- Of course – here Hanzo lifted his mobile in front of his face. – Then why did he send this message?

Maybe the robot was programmed to spread this message to possible candidates. Ever thought of that?

- He said the world was changing once again and it was time to pick a side – Hanzo said as he absentmindedly searched for that Overwatch video. – He meant this.

It said that because it was programmed to do so! Robots aren't alive. Why are you bothering with that stupid-ass message? Delete it already!

Hanzo pushed the Play button, and that ape scientist's face with those ridiculous glasses popped up again. His mind went blank as he watched the whole video again.

And again.

And again.

At the fourth replay, however, something shook him out of his… meditative? Brain-dead?… probably more brain-dead state. Shouting started down the square. Hanzo frowned at the curtains, then got up, left his mobile on the bed, still playing the video.

- Look. The people decided they were better off without us. They even called us criminals! They tore our family apart… – Winston mumbled, completely crestfallen.

Hanzo pulled the blinds away and opened the window. Before him, the square was slowly filling up with people, humans and omnics alike. The two parties was gathering at the two opposite sides, shouting at each other all kinds of things, none of them pleasant.

- But look around! – Winston cried out, pulling up photos about riots from all over the world.

Hanzo's frown deepened as he recognized this scene from the video. King's Row has always been home to one of, if not the most tensed human-omnic relationship ever. It was a downright miracle that the city still stood and people still lived here.

The two groups prepared for clashing, just as a military police platoon pulled up with numerous vans and quickly formed a wall of shields to somehow prevent the catastrophe from happening. Hanzo knew this wasn't going to work. He had a feeling the police knew it as well. Their bravery was commendable, though.

- Someone has to do something!

It was the omnics that made the first move. They were oppressed here, with literally zero rights (why did a non-living being need rights, anyway?), and minus a few open-minded humans who helped them out in small ways, most of the city's population wanted it to stay this way.

The robots took a running start, the entire group crashed straight into the police protection line. Some pressed against the shields while others climbed on their backs, trying to scale the obstacle. The humans on the other side grabbed bottles, rocks, even some Molotov-cocktails as a reply, and flung them at the omnics. Most of the missed and hit the shields, one cocktail sailed over the wall, however, and quickly set some of the robots ablaze. The omnics began to scream in that unnatural cybernetic voices of theirs, their rage growing with the flames. The humans pulled out their metal-coated bats, wrenches, hammers and even some old fashioned longswords and approached the police line.

- We have to do something!

Hanzo watched as a link in the protective chain finally gave in. A man buckled under the weight of the omnic he desperately tried to push off of himself, and crashed into the pavement. Before the rest of his squadron could help him up or somehow fill in the sudden gap, the robots took advantage of the opening and tore through the ranks, trampling the officer along with his comrades on each side. Hanzo couldn't see whether the men survived or not in the chaos that erupted. The humans and omnics could finally crash into each other with full force.

- We can make a difference again!

It was clear that this riot would end with casualties. The two groups tore into each other with such bloodthirst that was more beast-like than anything else. Humans and omnics flung their makeshift weapons at each other, they didn't even notice if they hit one of their own in the process. Hanzo could see quite a few heads, human and robotic, crack open, blood and sparks spraying into the air. There was a man whose left arm literally went flying from the swing of an omnic's self-made axe. The police force could do little at this point, maybe slow things down. The screaming turned into a storm-like roar.

- The world needs us now, more than ever.

To his surprise, Hanzo spotted a few humans on the omnic side. Some of the few citizens who thought of the machines as actual living beings and wanted to help them in whatever way they could. The more peaceful people gave them shelter or access to certain supplies the robots needed. It appeared that even that minority had aggressive members who clashed with their own race without hesitation. One of them, a buff man was crouching on the back of a large omnic, and attacked the humans with a long metal pole from above, while his machine companion knocked aside the adversaries, mostly policemen. More fires broke out from more Molotov-cocktails.

- Are you with me? – Winston glanced at the camera, smirking. It was clear he was ready to do anything to stop this mayhem.

Hanzo closed the window tight, shut the blinds and threw himself onto his bed. He was exhausted.

Sleep came quickly. In his dream, Hanzo saw two eastern dragons flying over a battlefield that was ablaze, people tearing each other apart below. One of the dragons, the blue one looked strong and proud, scales gleaming despite the stormy sky, but its eyes were dull grey like it was blind. The other, the green one looked horrible: its body was filled with cuts, its skin was peeled away on some parts, one side of its face torn off, the bone jaws of its skull a starkly white against the raw red flesh that surrounded the wound. Yet, despite this, its eyes gleamed with life and determination.

- We must rebuild what we have once destroyed, brother! – it said to the blue blind dragon.

Then everything was washed away in a blinding white light as a bomb below detonated, and Hanzo woke up, his body moving on its own, dodging a wicked blade that slashed straight for his throat.

Hello and welcome to a new fanfic of mine!

Boy, it's been too long since I last uploaded anything here. But I'm back with a new short story, ready to discover and chart new areas, such as Overwatch. Although I'm not playing with the game (PvP has never been my cup of tea), I once again found myself left breathless by the amazing detail Blizzard put into the world and the characters. It's simply amazing what they can accomplish. Best gaming company out there, in my opinion. (Long live StarCraft II)

But I digress. This is a short story about Hanzo Shimada, possibly three or four chapters long. I'm trying to keep it as Overwatch-ish as possible, keep true to its world. BUT! Should you find any errors, feel free to tell me so I can learn from it! :) My mother tongue is also not English, so if you find any grammatical errors, relay those to me as well, please!

Oh yes, once again, I must warn you: there will be possible graphic violence and cussing in this fanfic, even if not many. Despite its somewhat cartoonish look, Overwatch has some very DARK themes going on at some parts (the animated short "Hero"... Did you guys SEE how Soldier 76 killed one of the gang members, bashing his head with a blazing piece of a pinata?!), and yes, there is cursing in it (in the webcomics, at least). Upon studying the game and its world closely, I've come to the conclusion that this story can, AND WILL include both.

With all that out of the way, I hope you guys enjoy it, and I'm deeply honored if you read it! Reviews, helpful criticisms are always welcome, trolls and flamers will get the good old "RYU GA WAGA TEKI WO KURAU!" in their faces!

Hah, just kidding! :D

Love you guys, have a nice day and take care! *waves*