Warm Ice

Recall

The recall overcame Zarya in such bittersweet emotions as she stared at the communicator that she could not bear to throw away despite believing that Overwatch would not be restored. Just staring at the black sphere made the woman want to break down in tears as memories flooded through her mind, destroying the walls she had built to block off the days she felt like a hero. She wasn't. She wasn't able to do anything.

Zarya took in a deep breath, feeling the crisp air pass through her lips and into her lungs before exhaling, enjoying how it felt to breathe out the hot air in contrast to the cold surrounding her. The muscular woman pushed her fingers through her short pink locks, wincing slightly as she pushed through the tangles that ruled her hair. She quickly realized what a mess she had become ever since Overwatch disbanded, her green optics shifting to the mirror that stood opposite to her bed.

Eyes narrowing, Zarya turned to face it, muscles rippling as she flexed slightly, trying to erase the fat she had build from mainly staying in the house, having nowhere to go. She was still an incredibly fit woman, but nonetheless, her abs had gotten looser and the muscle that used to be overbearing had clearly weakened.

Zarya looked back at her communicator, raising a tense hand to press something, and yet she hadn't decided whether she wanted to accept or not. She felt like she had no place in Overwatch anymore. She let her own village be attacked while she was out competing, something that haunted her sleep almost every night. With shaking hands, her finger darted between 'decline' and 'accept', unable to make up her mind. Her chipped nail polish just made Zarya feel like even more of a disgrace, and yet, her gut kept telling her to accept. She stared at the 'accept' button, feeling all the moisture in her mouth quickly disappear.

Almost regrettably, she pushed the button, earning a happy beep from the communicator as she was sent coordinates to go to. Zarya, shaking, stood up, narrowing her eyes at the heavy particle cannon that lent against her wall. She padded over to it, running her fingers against the metal of the cannon she used to do so much damage with. It was nostalgic to say the least as Zarya swallowed back tears, feeling the weight in her throat as she took in a deep breath. She was going back. Whether she should or not, she would find out soon as she began to book the soonest flight to Watchpoint Gibraltar.

On the flight, Zarya had painted her nails, immediately feeling better about her overall appearance. She was still nowhere near cleaned up as she desperately needed a haircut and a good workout, but painting her nails aided her in reclaiming the feminity people believed she lost with her muscles. Standing outside the massive fortress, Zarya held her white, back, and blue particle cannon at her front, her bags packed onto each other on her back. Her green optics fluttered about on what she could observe from the outside, although minimal, it was extraordinary. The air was hazier by a long shot than her hometown, yet the nostalgia from it canceled out the difficulty in breathing it in.

She pressed the red button on the panel that rest on the door to get inside, signalling to Winston that someone was here. A flap opened, revealing a camera that scanned Zarya's face, earning a huff from the woman. She was never a big fan of technology, though she supposed that was what her precious weapon was made of. The humongous doors slowly parted way for Zarya as she quickly pushed through the entrance, ready to get back into the swing of things. She flipped the pink strands out of her eyes that bugged her, a gentle growl in her throat emerging as the strand kept falling into her eyes.

Faintly, Zarya heard a gentle robotic voice that froze her in the very step she took. Breath hitching as shivers traveled down her spine, fear overtaking her body as she frantically scanned the area for what the source of the sound was. Making their way to her, a small and fragile looking omnic hovered beside what appeared to be a cyborg, possibly another omnic, she couldn't tell. She watched as the floating omic spun the orbs flying around its neck before it lifted its hand up, moving it in a circle as it appeared to wave.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she shook in her place before her vision went red as anger flooded over her. The anger fumed inside of her stomach as she immediately moved her particle cannon into a battle stance, her eyes wild as all she could focus on was the robots approaching her. Memories of watching people she knew fall to omnics' hands flooded her head, making it impossible to think of anything other than kill. Time seemed to go in slow motion as she sent a burst of particle balls in their direction, the cyborg looking one moving in front of the omnic, pulling out his sword.

Just before the deadly particles slammed into the duo, ice encased Zarya's vision.