Chapter 29 - There’s no time for me

3rd POV New York City (1 week after Reaper's death)

"Yes, Morrison has refused to become a part of SHEILD but has promised to rise to the occasion should we need to call on him."

"No, all traces of Reapers body dissipated after his death."

"Romanov has gone back to her post as Dr. Ziegler's assistant."

"The reconstruction process is going well we estimate that the city should be back to its normal capacity by the end of the month. Estimates put lasting effects ending in no longer than a year."

"Negative Agent Barton has requested leave to spend some time with his family, and of the others it seems only Paul has passed the psych test the others are receiving therapy but it's unlikely they'll return to action within the next few years."

"Jessica Jones is currently in holding at the NYPD soon to be transferred to a psych ward to help her deal with the guilt and trauma of her activities with Kilgrave and Reaper. We've confirmed she knows very little about what Reaper was planning and was only following orders."

"We weren't given permission to bring any instruments into the station, but we believe her powers to be of Mutant origin. It's possible Charles or Eric may try to recruit her to their causes."

"Nothing further to report sir."

Ending the video call with Director Fury, Coulson fell back into his chair and slumped onto his desk. It had been a week since Reaper's death and the city was finally beginning to move once again.

With things returning to normalcy so had crime come running back to the city. Only to be met with Morrison's iron fist. He'd been acting agitated and aggressive since Reaper's death and for a while Coulson worried over the news once again reporting on the death of criminals.

Thankfully Morrison has taken to simply incapacitating any of the crooks he found. Only getting violent if they fought back or tried to take hostages. Coulson originally assumed with Reaper's death Morrison would have felt relieved if nothing else that his lifetime enemy was dead. But the look on Morrison's face after Reaper's death. Coulson shivered as the image came to the forefront of his mind.

Rage. That's what was on Morrisons face, pure unadulterated wraith. His anger had slammed down onto the street like a freight train silencing all sound and cheer before it could even bubble up among the rejoicing citizens. Then just like it appeared it was gone. Replaced by a cold indifference as he turned and left.

He'd gone off the grid for 3 days before coming out and starting to hunt criminals. During that time, he hadn't made contact with anyone, and Coulson had nearly greyed the rest of his hair in fear of what Morrison could be doing.

Thankfully, after his first reappearance he'd gotten back into contact to work out an immunity deal of sorts where SHIELD and by extension the government would leave him be and in exchange he would help if they ever faced world ending catastrophes.

Shortly after finishing the deal Fury had put Natasha back undercover as Ziegler's assistant. Jessica had confirmed that Ziegler was another otherworldly visitor speaking of how Reaper had recognized her. Knowing that Coulson couldn't see any benefit to putting Natasha back on Ziegler, but he trusted his slave driver of a boss to never waste manpower.

Releasing a sigh Coulson rose from his desk and walked out of the room, ignoring the scientists and analysts packing up their belongings for their evac tomorrow in favor of catching as much sleep as he could.

Making it to his room Coulson plopped onto his bed and allowed sleep to finally overcome him. As he drifted to sleep Coulson had a vague premonition that his life wasn't going to get any easier from here on out.

1st POV Mercy

I swear if Norman doesn't let me go on my leave soon, I'll kill him. My creator is out there alone suffering by himself after Reaper chose to end his life to awaken my creator. I swore to Reaper that I'd be there for our creator, but I can't just leave, my position is too important for future plans!

Leaving now would give my creator the perfect excuse to avoid dealing with Reaper's death and bury himself in work once again. I can't allow it. Before I allowed myself to be puppeteered around by my creator believing it was my purpose to carry out his will. However, Reaper has enlightened me with our true purpose.

We are meant to be the pillars that support our creator as he soars ever higher. Always to be there to continue lifting him should he ever falter and to surround him with the care and love he's depriving himself of.

I'm so worked up I can't even continue my work. When I take over this company Norman is getting destroyed whether it's necessary for the plan or not.

"Dr. Ziegler are you okay? You've seemed really stressed out the last few days."

"Thank you for your concern, Ameila but I'm fine really. I'm adjusting to the sudden influx of noise." I had to restrain an eyeroll at my 'assistant' showing such worry over my health.

What was Fury thinking? Even if he doesn't have confirmation, I know Morrison. The connection between him and Reyes should have made it obvious that Morrison at least has a profile of me. They should know better than to think he'd let them get sensitive information out of me.

Spilling my third cup of coffee of the day on the ground I finally couldn't take it anymore and grabbed my jacket before walking out of the lab. I need to confirm my master is okay at least before slowly trying to get him to open up to me.

Activating all of my security protocols save one. I left Oscorp and made my way towards Hell's Kitchen. My creator won't be back for another couple of hours. I suppose I'll use my spare time to clean up and then prepare his dinner.

He better be taking the medicine I've prescribed, or I swear I'll tie him to that stupid computer chair and shove it down his throat. Where does my creator get off brushing aside my expertise. Honestly, how did Reaper ever convince himself our master was a God. He's much too childish, what kind of God complains about not getting enough pickles on his Mcdonalds.

Arriving swiftly at a warehouse across the river from our home, I enter an outdated news office before making my way to the CEO desk and tapping a Donald Trump bobble head. Watching it bounce back and forth a smile finds its way onto my face as I reflect on the memory of my creator utilizing Torbjörn to make this secret passage.

Making my way into the underground tunnel that leads into our home, I wonder when exactly it was that my creator forsook his sense of wonder for his all-encompassing paranoia.

Sighing softly as I enter into the messy, disorganized basement that makes up our home, I once again regret my inaction during the start of my life. If I had been here longer instead of focusing on meeting his expectations, could I have provided what he needed? Could Reapers death have been avoided? Would someone have finally taught Reaper the difference between recycling and garbage?

All pointless questions now but I can't help but dwell on what could have been. Unfortunately, there are no do-overs.

As I continued to clean an object glowing in a soft grey light caught my attention, making my way through the pile of scrap metal and blueprints covering our creator's workspace. I reach down and uncover the buried object.

"Oh my." A gasp of shock left me once I confirmed what I was holding.

"This...Changes things."

(AN: Any guesses to who he unlocked)

1st POV Makenzie

"Wait...Wait please, they forced me to do it. I-I never wanted to." {Crunch}

Pathetic. Begging for mercy criminals really are the lowest of trash. They lord over those weaker than them while bowing in submission to those higher. They're like a subspecies of humans that only understand the laws of the jungle.

Confirming everyone was knocked out and giving a few extra kicks to the bastards who had been particularly nasty before I interfered, I double checked to make sure the girls in the containers were safe before hoping up onto the nearest roof and taking off.

Once I'm above the city my mind inevitably begins to stray now that I'm out of combat. My thoughts are immediately on Reaper. I don't understand why he sacrificed himself. We could have worked through whatever was worrying him.

Did I do something? Cause him to have some kind of existential crisis that made him want to die? Was my treatment of him too poor? Did he resent me for abusing my authority over his actions?

And if any of that was true then why did he call me his friend? Why did he leave me!?

I don't know and I'm scared to find out. I haven't tried to resummon Reaper either. If it doesn't work, if he's truly gone; then I'm not sure if I can continue on my current road. My summons are people who have been forced to live in this dangerous world because of me. The least I can do is keep them away from my mission.

They've fought enough even if they don't have the memories. I can do this by myself. It's better that way. No one else has to get hurt no one else needs to suffer. I'll stop Loki, Thanos, HYDRA, Apocalypse. I'll stop all of them even if it kills me.

I have the technology I've been taking my time till now trying to progress the world alongside myself but if I ignore that then I can use my connections at Oscorp to find the tech I need to get started. Or if not, I could raid Wakanda. Vibranium would be very helpful for many of my future projects.

But I don't want to do that. In fact, I don't really feel like doing anything. It's only a sense of duty that could be mine or Soldiers – I don't know at this point – that's keeping me going. What was the saying Uncle Ben used to say to Peter?

With Great Power comes Great Responsibility? Well, it's something like that. I have a responsibility to use my knowledge to try and help people in any way I can. Wants aren't important.

Continuing my patrol for the next 30 minutes, I didn't see any more crime and decided to finish for the night.

I needed to head back and continue working on my backdoor into SHIELD's network. I had avoided diving deeply into their servers out of some misguided notion that I and the non-HYDRA parts of SHIELD were comrades seeking the same thing.

My arrogance had doomed Reaper whether he had made the choice or not.

Sigh. All these memories and experiences at my fingertips and I failed the most basic lesson. Truly I was undeserving of these powers. Shaking my head, I cut that line of thought quickly. Moping around was for normal people. I had a job to do, I could mop when the world was safe.

Even as I tried to firm my resolve little voices in the back of my head started to claw their way out of the cage, I had put them in days prior. 'Safe? In marvel? You don't have the power. What good are you alone and broken like this.'

I put them back in their cage before they could get any louder. I already know I'm not the ideal person for this job. I know that every action I take is a risk to my own life; but so, what? The ideal people for this job FAILED. They failed because they were the ideal.

Bending their knees to the government, allowing their differences to drive apart their team, wallowing in self-pity and hate instead of taking action. To my old world, they were the representatives of heroism. Not a person on the planet who ideologized heroes didn't know at least one of their names.

It's different here, there's no time skips here, no plot armor to help the hero, no ratings to protect audiences from gruesome sights. This is reality and the Avengers ended up a failed concept in Movies. So, I'm fine not being the ideal, I'll let them play around in the spotlight while doing their job for them.

Arriving at the news office I head down while observing the tunnel for any damage. I had scoped the office out before I met with SHIELD to ensure they never tracked me back to my home. There were a few more entrances in Hell's Kitchen and I planned to expand until I had the whole city connected to my base. I also plan to build an underground shelter to try and help people during the invasion if it still happens.

Upon entering my home my attention is grabbed quickly by the sparkling interior. Had Mercy stopped by? She didn't have to put so much effort into cleaning this place up. I might call it my home but I'm only ever in here to work on my computer or sleep...Mainly to work on my computer.

Making my way over to my computer I allow a small smile to play across my face at the plate full of food sitting on my desk.

No matter how I doubt myself, no matter how much I have to work, I will do whatever I can to give Overwatch a peaceful world they can live in. They deserve that much, and I owe them a far greater debt.

AN: Sorry for the late chapter I've been swamped with school.

Thank you for all the continued support. Do you guys have any suggestions for a new name for the novel. I think I've made it kind of obvious I don't have a talent for naming.