It was the summer of 2025. A cool pollen-filled breeze swept over the landscape that housed Overwatch Site-Command. The land barren of life for as far as the natural eyes could see.
The subterranean bunker kilometers from the surface stretched the hidden underground caverns. With just a few layers of reinforced steel to act as floors, Overwatch Command was not heavy to the steps of human traffic. Only a handful of personnel were currently stationed within the secure confines of the metal walls below the eyes that peered down on the world
On the lowest floors, the only noise was of the ambient hum of rows upon rows of computer servers. Each of these automatically copied every file, email, document, and image being passed through SCiPNET on a global scale.
The next floor directly above was a host to a labyrinth of hallways. Each lead to a gate that connected the world by tracks. Simple means of transport were often the most reliable but perhaps not the most efficient.
A man with hair the color of ash sat back in his chair. He sipped from his crystal glass as he stared into a portal of the outside world. The view was currently set in the unforgiven terrain of the Amazon Jungle. Despite a life that dealt with a world of mysteries and objects of abnormalities, it was the simple explainable stuff that was impressive. He placed his glass on his polished finish desk and slightly glanced over to his guest.
“Look at it, Glant. It’s simply amazing. Here we are, kilometers below the surface of our planet and we can gaze upon the world as if we are mere meters away from it all.”
Glant stood across from the older gentleman. The mute-man wrapped in silence nodded. Glant himself looked to be of similar age to the man that peered into the wall-mounted computer screen. He was unable to share the sentiment as he was not as amazed by how far technology has fared in the last half-century. Instead, he gently placed a file on the desk and slid it towards the older gentleman.
As he took another sip from his glass, the eldest of the two reached out for the files. He turned away his gaze from viewing the beauties that the lush jungle provided.
“Still have it out for Jasmine? Or is this about thaumaturgists in general? You’ve always hated wizards or, so it seems”
A scowl slightly formed across the lips of Glant, but the silent-man responded with another slight nod.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Glant. Would you prefer if I stick to protocol and called her Five?”
This warranted yet another nod. Of which the eldest of the two smiled and closed the file. He turned back over to his portal, as he changed the view to appear over the cityscape of Tokyo. The dark sky void of any stars due to high amounts of light pollution.
“I’ll consider it, Glant… Excuse me, Nine. I’ll reach out to you later. Also, while you're at it. Take some time off, yes? You currently have 785 days of vacation you can file for. Why not use some of it?”
Without any proper response, the man of no words turned to take his leave. There was nothing left to do. He left the room and gently closed the door to the Administrator's Office. O5-9 slightly scowled more. His expression quickly changed to neutral when his phone buzzed.
You have 1 new message.
His phone buzzed more.
You have 6 new messages.
A neutral expression was not able to last long as the phone continued to shake violently in his hand.
You have 35 new messages.
Before the Overseer could fully open his phone to explore the reasons behind the explosion of notifications. The door to the Administrator's office opened. The older man sat in his wheelchair slightly in the door frame as he looked up to his guest.
“Come back in, Glant. I think you’re going to want to see this.”
Panic swept into Glant’s eyes as he gazed upon the computer screen. The view was of the barren waste directly above Overwatch-Command. However, the major difference was that vibrant flowers, of every spectrum of colors, were bloomed within the inhospitable wasteland that was over top the bunker.
The Administrator wheeled himself back to his desk. He got out a separate glass and popped open a crystal cylinder.
“I’ve been waiting for the right time to enjoy this, care to join me for a drink, Glant?”
He looked up to find the room empty. Sadness formed on the Elderly Man’s face. He sighed as he poured himself a glass.
“None of those kids will ever learn…”
Soft steps paced down the cold steel hallways as O5-9 quickly marched towards the elevators. He pulled out his phone as he checked his most important inbox.
EMERGENCY: All Overseers are to report to Site-01. Immediately.
-O5-1
With the soft hold of the main button. O5-9 turned off his phone as he got into the train stationed at the bunker. He set his destination to Checkpoint-Delta, not that he had any other options.
As the train screeched to a halt within the underground portions of the checkpoint. O5-9 raised his eyebrows once he noticed two guards baring the patch of the ‘Red Right Hand.’
Both saluted the Overseer as the train’s door slid open.
“Sir, we’re here to escort you to Site-01. We have your plane fueled up and ready for you.“
They didn't wait for a proper reaction the two guards grabbed either side of O5-9 arms and began to force him along the hallways as they lead him up a few flights of stairs to the outside world.
The landscape was decorated with rows of flowers. They bloomed everywhere, acres and acres were filled to the brim of nothing but specks of color not native to the land in the slightest.
In view was a white private passenger jet that was stationed on a short dugout runway. The Overseer was swiftly lead towards the plane. O5-9 frowned, he didn’t resist the two guards as he was forced into the jet. Afterwhich, he was let go from their grip.
O5-9 took a seat at the couch at the side of the passenger bay. He looked up into the cockpit. A single pilot, who wore the same patch of the other two guards took to the controls of the jet. The turbines on the side were already in motion.
The jet lifted from the flower-filled land from below.
“Sorry for the roughness, sir. We’re under orders from O5-1 to ensure every council member makes it to Site-01.”
Both were waved down from the Overseer, as he glanced out the window. He watched as the clouds passed by as the jet gained altitude. O5-9 stared out the window, he slowly counted to 100 in his head before he turned back to one of the guards. His dominant hand with his index finger bent as he pushed it over his other hand as he raised his eyebrows.
The two guards exchanged a glance and looked back to the Overseer.
“Sorry, sir I don’t know sign language.”
The other stepped forward a bit.
“Uh, let me see if I can find something for you to write on, sir.”
O5-9 smiled softly and gave them both a nod of appreciation. As the two guards began to explore the jet for writing materials. The Overseer reached into his suit jacket as he pulled out a Ruger P90. He swiftly aimed to the first guard to his side. With two steady squeezes of the trigger, he sent off two rounds into the base of the guard’s neck. To null any response he turned towards the guard that had their back to him. Sending off another two rounds.
As the bodies dropped to the floor. He ran up to the cockpit of the jet. The pilot who had been alerted to echo of shots and the smell of gunpowder turned and started to draw their sidearm. However, they were stopped as another round of shots went off through the air. The pilot dropped against the floor with two holes in their neck.
Not bothered enough to move the pilot’s body. O5-9 sat down in the co-pilot's chair and began to change course. He switched his destination from Site-01 in favor of Site-11.
As the jet began to approach Capital Region International Airport. It was not a surprise that the large control tower was entirely silent, no one was stationed there to operate or monitor any of the controls. No one to keep up with regulations. As the Overseer looked down towards the roads, not a single car was out and about. The area was barren of sentient life. The large city section became rather eerie as the existence of life wasn’t exactly noticeable apart from the wild animals and flowers that bloomed everywhere.
The view of dozens of metallic cylinder bodies with outstretched sheets of metal lay littered across the airport’s property. The view of grounded planes and airliners cluttered the field full of flowers. It did not allow for the jet to be landed smoothly.
With a quick change of ammunition magazine, the Overseer set his pistol back into his suit jacket before he exited the jet. He bent down to pick a vibrant purple flower. He took just enough time to admire its flawless nature before he made his way inside the large hanger.
The shadow of O5-9 stretched out over the large empty concrete floor as his steps echoed around the metal walls. He carefully traversed the structure. As he walked towards the back of the hanger, the Overseer held an emotionless expression as he watched a few mounted security cameras track his steps.
O5-9 passed the elevator in favor of stairs. As the simplest means of transport were often the most reliable. His steps echoed down the stairwell as he ventured down multiple flights into the subterranean portions of the hanger. As he got down into the third layer, a reinforced door blocked the common portions of the hanger from the restricted sections of the Site.
Much like the hanger above. The major portions of Site-11 were devoid of human traffic. The Site was still powered on. Although, no human person was here to maintain it. Since all personnel were honorably discharged at the first sight of the spontaneous flowers. Yet, the cameras still tracked O5-9 steps as he carefully paced down the Site’s hallways.
The Overseer ventured deep into Site-11. He took a glance at his watch
18:32
He had flown the jet for nearly 7 hours meaning the world had roughly another 17 hours of life still. A privilege that would soon run sour.
After a dozen flights of stairs. As the Overseer went out of his way to avoid every elevator. He finally reached his office in Section-C of the Site.
He wasted no time and unlocked the door. O5-9 went straight to the back of his office to his filing cabinet. He got down on one knee and began to dig through a bundle of sorted files, the only notable noise was the tick of seven separate clocks all synchronized to various places in the world.
The seconds ticked by till the Overseer finally stood up after he pulled out a file labeled:
extradimensional
The Overseer stood up and made his way to his chair. He flipped the file open and began to look over the pages. He leaned back in his chair and turned on his monitor.
Good afternoon, Overseer. How may I assist you today?
Alexandra, activate contingency: ‘backdoor’. Password: A3U8b7L18.
I apgolgies, Overseer. You do not have the proper clearance to active that contingency.
Alexandra, what do you mean I lack the proper clearance? I’m the author of this contingency.
Overseer, under the authority of the Administrator. You have hereby been removed access to all extra-dimensional contingency plans. Quoting: "It'd be improper for you just to up and disappear."
With a flick of a button, he turned off his desktop. O5-9 leaned back and ran his fingers against the scalp of his head as he contemplated what Alexandra just told him. The room’s silence was broken by the vibration and violent ring of the old rotary phone the Overseer kept at the edge of his desk.
With a slight glare, the Overseer stared at the outdated phone as it continued to shake and buzz. He gave in and reached out to pick up the phone as he brought it to his ear.
“Ah, Glant. I was beginning to think you were just going to let it ring out. You’ve missed out on a few rounds of some of the best drinks.”
“….”
“Yes, I know you’re upset that I got Alexandra to remove you from your backup plans. That’s part of the reason I called.”
“….”
“You know it’s unfair to the rest of the planet if you just up and left.”
“….”
“And yes, I figure that there are some who’ve probably already ditched our world at the first sight of its shortcoming. But, we can be better than that. Right, Glant?”
“….”
“Are you scared of what’s to come?”
“….”
“Ah who am I kidding, of course, you’re not. I am though. Death has always been unpleasant to think about. I suppose you don’t want to listen to my nonsense any longer. Goodbye, Glant. Try to relax with the time you have left. Okay?”
“….”
“Great! It was nice talking to you.”
O5-9 was left in silence rather befuddled by the phone call. He sat down his corded phone and sighed as he enjoyed the near silence his office provided. But the silence did not last.
His muscles tensed up slightly as he could hear the faint sound of the doorknob slowly being turned open.
O5-9 calmly closed the open file and looked up to the door. His eyes flashed with a hint of anger as he saw a woman in a light grey dress, long brown hair pulled into a pony-tail, eyes cold as the icy blue they appeared to be.
“You sneaky fucking rat! I knew you would run off to this little haven of yours…”
She held up a Glock-18. A sly smile spread across her face as she looked down at the seated Overseer. O5-9 just looked over his fellow council member. His eyes were full of hate. He didn’t bother to try and reach for his firearm. He simply sat in silence.
“What’s the gloomy face for, Nine? You seriously didn’t think I would attend One’s suicide pact now did you?”
She stepped forward and pressed the gun closer to O5-9. She stayed roughly an arm's length away from him.
“Still going to be as silent as ever? You sadistic freak?”
O5-9 ignored her comment and slowly reached for a pen that was on top of his desk. He began to scribble down on a piece of paper and turned it around for the women to see.
Leave my office, Five. Go enjoy your 17 hours.
She glanced down and scoffed. Baffled at the thought.
“Absolutely not. Although, I won’t waste your time monologuing. Goodbye, Nine.”
The lady squeezed the trigger on her Glock. The slide vaulted back as the muzzle flashes. The sound was harsh. For O5-9 it was almost as if time appeared to slow down. He watched the slide push to the end of the Glock, the bullet in midair just before the bridge of his nose.
The Overseer frowned, he furrowed his brow as he stared at the bullet. He looked passed it towards O5-5. She had a smug expression as she held up the discharged firearm, the slide still hadn't racked forward. He flung around in his chair as he looked back to his clocks. Each one had frozen in place.
He stood from his chair and stared back at the bullet that was suspended in motion. He sighs in annoyance as he rubbed his temple as he shook his head in disbelief.
The air wrapped and shimmered as it bent right in front of the office door. A small ellipse formed in front of O5-9. It allowed for a link in time and space.
A man in a tailored gray suit stepped through the opened portal with the assistance of his cane. His hair was as white as freshly fallen snow. His eyes were a host to a fortune of knowledge. Braided in golden letters, the word Marshall was stitched into the top pocket of the man’s suit.
“Good evening, Glant. I didn't ruin your reunion did I?”
The man of no words glared over Marshall. He frowned in disapproval.
“Oh, Darling… Are you still upset with me? You know I didn’t mean to kill your nephew. It was an accident.”
The Overseer looked back to O5-5, she was still locked in place, frozen in suspended animation. O5-9 glanced over to the newcomer to his office in dead silence.
“Darling, please.”
Marshall grabbed a purple silk handkerchief out of his top pocket and leaned towards O5-9.
“Why do you hide yourself?”
With a few firm and gentle strokes of the silky fabric, Marshall wiped down the Overseer’s neck. He cleaned off the flesh-toned cream to reveal a few dark slashes that went down O5-9 throat.
“Scars are part of the natural beauty, Glant. You should stop trying to hide them constantly.”
“…..”
A faint smile spread across Marshall’s lips. He gestured toward the oval that bridged two points of reality.
“Lets at least go, Glant. The planet is dying. Faster than I expected too.”
He held out his hand for the Overseer to take. Marshall’s faint smile grew as he waited. O5-9 looked him over as he hesitated. He turned and looked over to O5-5 one last time as the words of the Administrator rung in his head.
But, we can be better than that. Right, Glant?