//------------------------------// // Interlude 2: Someone Had To Break The Ice // Story: The Reaper // by Blade Trail //------------------------------// Winston’s recall of all Overwatch agents had earned him the attention - and ire - of both the United Nations and Talon, forcing him and those who answered his call to go on the run until they were prepared to fight back. Unfortunately for Zenyatta and the Shimada brothers, by the time they had arrived at Watchpoint Gibraltar, Winston and his followers were long gone. All was not lost, however, as Winston had left vague clues to his whereabouts, so that any interested Overwatch agents could still follow him. The clues were well hidden and presented in a way that Winston felt confident would only be recognized by former agents of Overwatch. While Genji, as an ex-agent, was able to find and decipher Winston’s clues, following the directions in them only led the group to another abandoned base where they had to search for yet more clues. The trio’s short trip to Watchpoint Gibraltar had turned into a gruelling scavenger hunt for esoteric clues and hints. To further complicate matters, they weren’t the only ones just a few steps behind Winston’s crew either. More than once, the trio had arrived at a recently abandoned base mere minutes before a Talon raid, forcing the Shimada brothers to prove their mastery of ninjutsu in order to proceed. Now, several days after their journey began, Hanzo, Genji, and Zenyatta found themselves trekking across the sand dunes near the heart of the Sahara desert. The midday sun shone high and bright in the cloudless sky, its unrelenting heat bearing down on the travellers’ weary bodies. Although all three wore several layers of protective clothing - headcloths, robes, goggles, and the like - over their usual outfits, the harsh environment still sapped their strength more than the last few legs of their intercontinental journey put together. Even Zenyatta, whose robotic body needed little rest, was showing signs of wearing down. It still surprised both Shimadas, however, when Zenyatta called for the group to stop. “Is something wrong, master?” Genji asked. Zenyatta, who was still hovering, uncrossed his legs and made stretching motions. Genji winced at the sharp, metallic creaking noises that ensued. Seeing Genji’s reaction, Zenyatta said, “I apologize, my student. This journey of ours has left me little time for maintenance, and my knees simply aren’t what they used to be. It is at times like these that I miss the days when I was young and spry like yourself.” “Master, I’m thirty-five years old,” Genji said flatly. “You’re twenty.” Zenyatta held up a hand. “There is no need to remind me, Genji. I know that I am nearly obsolete.” Hanzo snorted. “This is why we have stopped? To deal with an omnic’s version of a mid-life crisis?” “Not quite,” Zenyatta replied, returning to his cross-legged position. “I called for us to stop because I sensed a disturbing shift in the ball you clasp beneath your robes, Hanzo.” Genji slowly turned towards Hanzo, who quickly raised one arm. “Wait! It’s not what you think!” he cried, one arm still suspiciously beneath his robes. “Please, show us,” Zenyatta said. Genji gestured for Hanzo to stop. “No, please don’t.” Hanzo began grunting as he tried to pull his hand out from beneath his robes. “I’m telling you, it is not as it seems,” he said in between grunts. “Just...give me a moment. It appears to have gotten tangled amidst all the cloth it’s been rubbing against.” “Dear God,” Genji said, looking away. “Now is not the time to be polishing your sword, Hanzo!” “What are you talking about?” Hanzo asked, frustration creeping into his voice as his arm remained tangled. “I have not touched my sword since the night you died, Genji!” Genji buried his face in his hands. “I do not even want to think about what that implies about our relationship.” “What?” Hanzo asked again, confused. Then Genji’s meaning dawned on him. “Oh...oh! No! No, look!” Genji heard the sound of Hanzo’s robes unfurling, but refused to look up. “No thank you!” Genji exclaimed. “I am sure that the dragon is plenty sated without my input!” Zenyatta laid a hand on Genji’s shoulder. “Genji, you must see this. Your brother’s ball is not as blue as it once was.” “Nope!” Genji said, turning away. “I think I’ll just scout ahead! Catch up to me when you’re finished!” Zenyatta’s hand clamped down on Genji’s shoulder, preventing him from leaving. “I speak of the Soul of the Wind, Genji.” Slowly, Genji raised his head and turned back to Hanzo. Hanzo held out the Soul of the Wind with a frown. “We have less time than I had hoped.” The swirling energies within the Soul of the Wind had slowed even further, and the orb’s color was noticeably darker. The dark clouds appeared to have decreased slightly, but Genji had no doubt that this was not a good sign. “What...what has happened?” Genji asked. “To my shame, I do not know,” Hanzo replied. He offered the orb to Zenyatta. “Can you tell us?” Zenyatta took the Soul of the Wind and held it with both hands. His body went stiff and his balls stopped their orbit around him, but he did not enter a transcended state as he did before. After a few moments, he shook his head. “The darkness within the ball has decreased,” Zenyatta said, handing the Soul of the Wind back to Hanzo. “But so has the power of the ball itself. The bridge between the worlds weakens, and I fear that the darkness has not so much dissipated as crossed over to the other side.” Hanzo sighed and placed the orb back within his robes, unable to bring himself to look upon it any longer. “Every day that passes, the magnitude of my failure grows...and with it, my shame.” Genji walked forward and clasped Hanzo’s shoulders. “You have not failed yet, brother. We will find Winston and make this right. It has taken longer than expected, but we are close now, I can feel it.” A deep voice with an American accent spoke, “Too close for comfort, I’d say.” All three travellers turned towards the source of the voice. There, standing in front of a sand dune and no more than 5 meters away from the group, was what appeared to be an Old West cowboy, pulled straight from the movies. The cowboy calmly raised a lit cigar up to his lips with his robotic left hand while his right held a revolver aimed at the group. “You boys look like you’ve gone through a whole lotta trouble to get this far,” the cowboy continued. “But you ain’t taking one step further until -” BANG Hanzo - who had raised a hand to reach for his bow - froze as he felt the bullet zip through the air between his fingers. “Try that one more time, blue balls, and the next one’s going between your eyes,” the cowboy warned. “Now, where was I? Oh yeah, interrogation. What’re y’all doing out here? Start talking or start dying. And make it quick; I ain’t much for standing around, ‘specially not in this heat.” “It has been a long time, McCree,” Genji said. “Have you forgotten who I am?” “Oh, I recognize ya, Genji,” McCree said. “But that don’t answer my question.” “Genji, you know this ruffian?” Hanzo asked with a frown. “His name is Jesse McCree. He was a member of Blackwatch, like myself,” Genji replied. “And I see that he is still as overconfident as ever.” McCree raised an eyebrow. “Overconfident? I ain’t the one mouthing off while staring down the barrel of a gun. You might be fast, Genji, but you ain’t faster than a bullet.” Genji tensed. “Why don’t we find out?” Before anyone acted, Zenyatta spoke. “We have come seeking a gorilla from the moon to help us sooth the irritation inflicted upon the Shimada’s family jewel by a rough nighttime encounter with a tall, dark, and masked man.” The next few moments passed in awkward silence. McCree looked at each of the three travellers. Zenyatta hovered in place, his pose the picture of serenity. Hanzo facepalmed. Genji looked away and would not meet his gaze. “He...ain’t kidding, is he?” McCree asked. Hanzo let out a tired sigh. “Unfortunately not. Although that is not how I would have described our quest, it is...accurate. More or less.” McCree reached up with his left hand and touched the communicator in his ear. “Y’all heard that, right?” he asked whoever was listening on the other end. While McCree waited for a response, Genji turned to Zenyatta. “Master...was that really necessary?” “It prevented violence among two parties that ought to be friends,” Zenyatta replied. “Not only was it necessary, it was also beneficial. Besides, we wanted them to know of our plight anyway, no?” “Yes, but...did you really have to put it like that?” Genji asked. “Your description was rather vague and implies...unsavory acts.” “Then perhaps you should state our purpose next time, instead of allowing your pride to lead us into conflict,” Zenyatta replied. Genji felt his embarrassment turn to shame. His master was right. He had seen McCree’s threats and smug confidence as a challenge, and his pride in his own skills had urged him to meet that challenge without thinking of the consequences. He had almost made an enemy of the very group they had come to join. Genji bowed his head. “I am sorry, master. It appears as though I still have much to learn.” McCree took his hand off of his communicator and holstered his gun. “Well, looks like you’re in luck. The boss wants to see you. Heh, never thought I’d end up calling Winston ‘boss’. C’mon, now, follow me.” McCree turned around and walked straight into a sand dune. Zenyatta followed immediately, with Genji right behind him. Hanzo hesitated a moment, then shielded his eyes and ran through the sand. Hanzo didn’t feel any sand pass over him, so he kept running until he bumped into Genji’s metallic back, which briefly knocked him off balance. Genji looked back and noticed his brother’s confusion. “The sand is an illusion,” he said, pointing back to the curtain of sand, which was translucent when viewed from where they were. “At least until this elevator sinks below ground. Then, I suspect real sand will pile above it.” Hanzo looked around. The group was indeed inside what appeared to be a dimly lit metallic elevator. “It had always seemed as though Overwatch wanted their presence to be known, to be used as a deterrent,” Hanzo commented. “I did not know that they built hidden bases like this.” McCree chuckled. “Overwatch wanted the world to know a lotta things, blue balls, but they kept the most important stuff to themselves. Just like everyone else.” Hanzo fumed at being insulted again, but before he could retort, a feminine voice spoke from the elevator’s speakers. “Please standby for scan,” the voice said. Blue lasers in a grid pattern briefly swept across the group. Hanzo stared suspiciously at the walls the lasers had emanated from, but the rest of the party did not react. “Scan completed. No trackers or external communicators found,” the voice said as the lasers disappeared. “Verified agent Jesse McCree. Full access granted, provided you refrain from smoking within the base premises. Need I remind you -” “That the ventilation isn’t fully functional and that the base is deep underground,” McCree completed, snuffing out his cigar. “Yeah, yeah, I hear ya.” “Thank you for your compliance. Three guests detected. Logging...complete. Inactive agent Genji Shimada and former Shambali monk Tekhartha Zenyatta identified. Guest access granted. Matching profile for third guest...found. Japanese crime lord Hanzo Shimada. Profile has not been updated in twenty years. Last record indicates that bounty was suspended. Reason: person presumed dead. Updating profile...complete. Guest access granted. Welcome, everyone. Winston is waiting for you in the war room.” “Thanks, Athena,” McCree said, tipping his hat to a nearby camera. “We’ll be right over.” Zenyatta turned to face the same camera. “Your analytical capabilities are very impressive, sister. I am surprised you were able to recognize us beneath all of this clothing.” “Protocols set by Commander Gabriel Reyes required the installation of scanners of such sophistication at all Blackwatch outposts,” Athena replied flatly. “They can accurately identify any person, regardless of attire, barring complete concealment of all features, and are able to penetrate all known types of holograms and personal cloaking devices.” “The scanners are indeed powerful, but unless I am mistaken, the data processing was all handled by you. I doubt you are the original program designed to do so either,” Zenyatta said. “Even the most sophisticated scanners are useless without an equally sophisticated mind to look through them. You are very talented.” “Yes, I am currently handling all backend processes for this base in lieu of the original software - which has been corrupted. And thank you, Zenyatta. Your compliment is appreciated,” Athena said, this time with a hint of pride. The elevator doors closed and the elevator began to descend. Now that they were free of the desert sun, Hanzo decided that he needed his mobility more than his outer robes. Genji and Zenyatta were wanderers by nature, and as such, were used to spending most of their time in worn and uncomfortable travelling garb, but Hanzo was not. One by one, he removed each of his sand-covered outer garments and left them folded on the floor of the elevator. He finished just as the elevator doors opened. McCree stepped out of the elevator and motioned for the rest to follow him. As they walked, Genji let his eyes wander across the underground base. He noted that the base was in a sorry state. The lights were dim and few in number, the rooms and corridors were empty, and some areas were completely devoid of power. “How long has it been since anyone was posted here?” Genji asked. “I know I never was. I’ve never even heard of it.” “Not surprising,” McCree replied. “This place was ol’ Gabe’s pet project, so its existence wasn’t exactly common knowledge. He had big plans for it. Wanted to set it up as Blackwatch’s own HQ. He spent most of his free time drawing up plans or trying to crack his own security. I remember he used to joke about wanting to build it just so that we didn’t have to keep holding debriefings for covert ops in broom closets and bathrooms, but I know it meant a lot to him.” McCree paused, then he sighed and shook his head. “Of course, it didn’t go like he wanted it to. Nothing ever did for him. Some suits caught wind of the project and pulled the plug. That was a few years before Overwatch itself went under. This place was about three quarters of the way done at the time, and he was getting ready for the big reveal to the rest of Blackwatch when they shut him down. They told him that he couldn’t be trusted to run his own base, that he didn’t have Morrison’s management skills. I’d never seen him so furious, but he didn’t bother to cancel the Blackwatch general assembly. Three hours later, he was up on stage in front of all of Blackwatch, giving us all some basic statistics of our operations and making so many wisecracks that it might as well have been a standup routine.” “I remember that assembly,” Genji said. “It had seemed like a giant waste of time. Especially since he had cancelled all non-priority operations, and pulled all active Blackwatch agents together for it. I could never figure out why he’d done that...how is it that you know?” “The old man, uh...that is to say, the commander and I talked...every now and again,” McCree said with hesitation. Changing the topic of the conversation, he glanced over at Hanzo and said, “So anyway, you’re the brother Genji was talking about, huh? The one that went and murdered him before Doc Mercy fixed him up again? Gotta say, it’s surprising you two are travelling together. Did ya kiss and make up? Or is it just the power of this blue ball thing bringing ya together, and as soon as it’s over, y’all are gonna go back to fighting? I wanna know if I have to worry about any dragon on dragon action happening either way.” Hanzo scowled. “I tire of your continued impertinence, errand boy.” “Errand boy? That the best you can come up with?” McCree said lightly. “Athena, be a dear, and give the failed crime lord here an overview of my service record. Keep it short and simple. He don’t seem all that bright.” “Processing...complete,” Athena said over the speakers. “Agent Jesse McCree was recruited into Blackwatch at age seventeen by Commander Gabriel Reyes after being captured during a sting operation against the Deadlock Gang. As a full-time agent of Blackwatch, McCree has no official service record, and thus, no rank. Unofficially, however, he was a key member of Blackwatch, and came to be regarded as Commander Reyes’ second in command. Agent McCree resigned from Blackwatch six months before Overwatch was dismantled, and returned to service following Winston’s recall of Overwatch agents. His current age -” “Now, hang on,” McCree tried to interrupt, but Athena continued. “- is thirty-seven, of which ten were spent as a member of the Deadlock Gang, fourteen were spent in active service for Blackwatch, and six were spent as a vigilante and mercenary. He has a total of thirty years of combat experience, making him the most experienced active agent at this time.” “Well, uh, there you have it,” McCree said as Athena finished. “I’m a veteran. Practically a hero.” “More like a childish fool in a ridiculous outfit,” Hanzo scoffed. “Says the man who looks like he just walked out of a strip club on Halloween,” McCree retorted. “Then again, I remember Genji used to have half his torso out too when they were tweaking his modifications. Is the nip slip a Shimada tradition or something?” McCree did a mocking imitation of Hanzo’s accent. “Bare your breasts, or you have no honor!” “It does not surprise me that your petty and immature mind does not understand the difference between my family’s robes and your children’s costume. Only a Shimada could fully comprehend the significance and symbolism of this garb, whereas your garb clearly marks you as a fool playing hero,” Hanzo sneered. McCree stopped walking and turned around to look Hanzo in the eye, his expression serious. “Finally struck a nerve, have I?” Hanzo mocked. “It is difficult to tell, what with your thick skull and oversized hat.” Genji quickly stepped between the two men. “Brother, that is enough. Remember that we are guests here.” “Are we? We have hardly been treated as such!” Hanzo snapped. So much pride, Zenyatta mused silently. And so easily bruised. So much like Genji was, and still sometimes is. Brothers indeed. “That is no excuse to debase our own behavior!” Genji replied. He then turned and bowed to McCree. “McCree, I apologize for my brother’s behavior, and my own as well. We have come seeking your help, yet have treated you poorly. Please forgive us.” Hanzo pulled Genji back up. “I forbid you to bow to this lowlife!” “You forbid me?” Genji asked. “Hanzo, I -” “Alright, that’s enough!” McCree interrupted. He turned to Genji and said, “You ain’t got nothing to apologize for, so I won’t take none of that bowing nonsense. Not to me. You’re brother’s right about that, I ain’t worth it.” “As for you,” McCree continued, turning to Hanzo. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath instead. Then he turned around and continued walking. Unsure of how to react, the others followed. When McCree heard the footsteps following behind him, he spoke without turning, “The old man built this place big, so we’re still a ways away from the war room. In the meantime, lemme tell y’all a story. “When I was a kid - we’re talking four to six years old, before the Deadlock Gang - I watched all the Old West action flicks I could get my grubby little hands on. I loved ‘em. Couldn’t get enough. I’ll tell you why: it’s ‘cause the Old West was shit. “You had outlaws left and right, good people getting shot, and bad guys that weren’t just gaming the system - they were runnin’ it. Crazy land like that didn’t have heroes like in old Reinhardt’s stories. Ain’t no knight in shining armor. Ain’t no paragon of virtue and justice. None of that. Instead, you got a man with a gun and good intentions. Maybe he ain’t perfect, maybe he ain’t even nice, but with a quick hand and a keen eye, he makes a difference.” “A riveting tale,” Hanzo said dryly. “And how, exactly, is this relevant?” “Have you seen the world out there?” McCree asked. “It’s a shitshow - more than the old West ever was. It’s so fucked up out there that even a schmuck like me knew that the world needed saving, needed a hero. But I ain’t it. I’m just a man with a gun and good intentions. “So why do I dress like this, Ninja Gaiden? Because I wanna believe that with a quick hand and a keen eye, even a guy like me can make a difference. So laugh if you want to. Call me an idiot or a fool. -” McCree suddenly stopped and turned to face Hanzo “- But if the world I’m in is a goddamn nightmare, then I oughta be allowed to dream.” McCree glared at Hanzo for a few moments, but suddenly, Hanzo was unable to meet his gaze. Seemingly satisfied, McCree once more continued walking. Well said, Zenyatta thought. You are wiser than you believe, Jesse McCree. The rest of the long walk to the war room passed in silence. ~~~ As Genji finished recounting the tale of their journey and the events leading up to it, Winston leaned back in his chair, which creaked loudly under his weight, but held firm. The travellers and McCree were in the war room, seated around a large table with Winston at its head. No one else was present. “Sounds like you encountered the Reaper,” Winston said. “The...Reaper?” Hanzo asked. Winston leaned forward onto the table and tapped at a console, causing a hologram of Reaper to appear in the middle of the table. “He’s one of the world’s most wanted men...although, by all counts, ‘man’ may not be the right word to use,” Winston explained. “He’s been involved in multiple high profile crimes these last few years. Most notably, he’s been hunting down and killing former Overwatch agents. I’ve fought him off twice already. His first attack is what convinced me to initiate the Overwatch recall. I’m honestly surprised you’ve never heard of him. I’d have thought everyone had.” “My life has been...secluded for many years,” Hanzo said. “Much the same can be said of my master and I,” Genji added. Winston waved the statements off. “You’d have to have been living under a rock, but...okay. Can I see this ‘magic’ orb of yours?” Hanzo pulled out the Soul of the Wind and passed it along to Winston. “Curious,” Winston said, holding up the orb and examining it. “There is definitely something strange about this item. I can practically feel the energy coming off of it, but that doesn’t make any sense. You say that it’s a portal to another world?” “That is correct,” Zenyatta said. “I am able to look within and see the path, but that is the extent of my abilities. We were hoping you could help us to open it fully.” Winston put the orb down on the table and sighed. “If Overwatch were still around...if I had the time and the funding...but I don’t.” “What are you saying?” Hanzo asked. “I’m saying that I can’t help you,” Winston said, his voice soft but firm. “I’m sorry. I really am. But just look at this place! Look at what I have to work with! Studying this item would have taken months, years even, back in Overwatch’s hayday. Now? Now I don’t even have the tools I need to start.” Hanzo slammed his fist down onto the table. “Then this was a waste of time!” “What if we were to get you these tools?” Genji asked. “Could you at least try?” Winston took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose before replying. “Look, I want to. I’ve never seen an item like this before. And no one’s been able to prove the existence of alternate realities, much less travel to one. But...the timing! Thanks to McCree, my agents and I have just gotten to a base that I’m reasonably sure no one can follow us to, but in its current state, it’s no better than a cave. “If we want to make a difference, if we want to bring Overwatch back, we need to start acting now and make use of the breathing room we’ve got. There’s no way I can justify just dropping all of our goals to bring back one terrorist who got sucked into another world. Especially not one with a vendetta against Overwatch.” To Hanzo’s surprise, McCree spoke up. “So you’re saying he’s not our problem anymore?” Winston was taken aback. “That’s not -” “‘Cause that’s what I’m hearing,” McCree continued. “You wanna leave this life-leeching, mass murdering psychopath to whatever unlucky life forms happen to be on the other side of that gate ‘cause at least then he won’t be after us anymore? Is that what this new Overwatch is gonna be about? Dealing with our problems and no one else’s?” Winson roared, briefly displaying the wild beast he could be. When he regained control, he said “No! It’s about doing what needs to be done! What nobody else wants to do! It’s about helping the world!” “Right,” McCree said. “As long as we help ourselves first.” “What would you have me do?!” Winston growled. “We don’t have the time, the manpower, or the resources!” “Neither did Blackwatch!” McCree said, raising his voice for the first time. “Or do you think Commander Reyes got what he needed from high command every time he asked? News flash: he didn’t. We didn’t. Blackwatch ran for twenty years, doing the things that needed to be done, the things that nobody else wanted to do, to help the world on nothing more than ol’ Gabe’s grit and Overwatch’s table scraps. “More than half of our guys were recruited from the gangs and crime syndicates that we took down ‘cause we weren’t allowed to run a recruitment drive, and regular agents weren’t supposed to acknowledge that we even existed, much less lift a nail polished finger to help us out. Our guns and ammo were about the same. And every day we went to work knowing that if shit ever hit that fan, no one would come to bail us out. But that didn’t stop us. Nothing did. And near the end, we got so damn good at solving problems that the rest of the world couldn’t help but notice. And when they did, seeing us in action scared the shit outta them. “Face facts, Winston, that’s the organization we’re trying to rebuild here. Not Overwatch. Not Morrison’s boy scouts. Blackwatch. Reyes’ rule breakers. The boys who’d stop at nothing to get the job done. So I don’t wanna hear you say that we can’t help these people, Winston. I don’t wanna hear you say that we left anyone to die. And I will damn well shoot you myself if I ever hear you tell someone that they don’t have the clearance to do what’s right!” McCree’s fervor stunned Winston into silence. He had never seen McCree so passionate. At some point during his tirade, McCree had stood up from his chair without realizing it. Now that he was done, he slowly lowered himself back down into the chair and lit himself a cigar. Not even Athena tried to stop him. Zenyatta broke the silence. “As the saying goes, where there is a will, there is a way. If your organization cannot handle all of its responsibilities on its own, then we shall help it do so. Do you agree, Genji?” “Yes, master,” Genji replied immediately. He turned to Winston. “Give us direction. Tell us what you need. We will get the job done. My brother and I are worth over twenty men.” “We are worth over two hundred men!” Hanzo declared. “And that is before accounting for the dragons.” “In return,” Zenyatta said. “You will help us open the Shimadas’ ball, and hunt down this Reaper. Do we have an agreement?” Winston shook his head in disbelief. “Genji, I’ve seen you in action. I know that you’re capable, but what you’re saying...the things we would need you to do to pull this off...it’s impossible.” “You have seen me at my lowest point in life, Winston,” Genji said. “When I was a fractured soul, at war with who I was and consumed by rage. Now, I am whole. And what’s more, I have my brother by my side. If what you ask of us is impossible, then that is what we shall give you.” Winston looked around the room, his expression uncertain. All he saw were the determined expressions of the others looking back at him. “Alright,” Winston said, his own determination restored. “We’ll give it a try.” “Do. Or do not,” Zenyatta said. “There is no try.” McCree chuckled. “Now yer just quoting Star Wars.” Genji looked to his brother. Their gazes locked and he saw the fire in Hanzo’s eyes. The prospect of finally making progress towards their ultimate goal renewed the brothers, making them forget the exhaustion that they felt before. “It is time to act,” Hanzo said. Genji nodded. He looked towards Winston and asked, “Winston, when do we start?” Winston slid a data pad across the table to the brothers and said, “Right now.” ~~~ As Winston led the group out of the war room and towards the hangar show them to their transport for their first mission, Hanzo hung back and called McCree’s attention. McCree raised an eyebrow. “What is it, Ninja Assassin?” Hanzo hesitated for a moment, then bowed low. “I misjudged you, McCree. And dishonored myself with my behavior. I am sorry.” “Whoa, there,” McCree said. “None o’ that now. Like I told your brother, I ain’t worth it.” Hanzo remained bowed. “And that is precisely why few are more worthy.” McCree felt awkward. He removed his hat and pushed back his hair. “I don’t know about that...I’ve done some terrible things in this life. I’ve got good intentions, but...well, you know what they say ‘bout the road to hell,” he said, his gaze drifting to the ceiling as he thought back on his life. “In that, we are the same, but I have been told that redemption is possible for those with the courage to make amends...and the strength to forgive themselves,” Hanzo said, rising. “Is it, now?” McCree asked, his voice distant. “I wonder...” “As do I,” Hanzo said. He held out his hand. “Perhaps we can make the effort to find out...together?” McCree placed his hat back on his head and shook Hanzo’s hand. “That’s fine by me,” he said with a small smile. As they shook hands, Hanzo said, “I would like to start over. I am Hanzo Shimada, a disgrace, a murderer, a failure, and a fool. It is a pleasure to meet you.” McCree laughed at that. “Well, if we’re doin’ it right and proper...the name’s Jesse McCree. I’m an orphan, a killer, a coward, and a fool. The pleasure’s all mine.” Hanzo couldn’t help but smile at that. Despite their first impressions of each other, he had the feeling that they were going to get along just fine.