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Chapter Text

Of Gods and Guns

Begin transmission...

Chapter 1: Ascension in the Smoke

Welcome back, Helen. New logs have been added. Here is the most recent.

Log No. 10720.

Location: Mannworks Quicklime Factory

Date: 10/10/1971

Time: 2200 hours

Assigned Team: Team Fortress

Team Status: All members active and on site

Resupply Status: Delayed

No. of Cameras: 7

View Replay? (Y/N)
>Y

Yes. Beginning Replay…

The moonlight shone weakly through the clouds, casting an eerie light upon the trees. In the midst of the forest, a factory stood, quiet. The only people there were asleep at this hour. Floodlights were on, but illuminated nothing but the empty battlements. 

A rumbling filled the air, shaking the ground. On the cliffs to the east, a hulking shadow loomed. Squares of light littered the sides of the behemoth, a shadow occasionally flicking past them. Inside its metal walls, an army began to take shape. 

Above, the clouds circled. A storm was brewing. 

A siren echoed throughout the base, rousing the mercenaries. Accompanying this alarm was an announcement. 

“Mann Co is under attack! Do not fail me! Protect this facility!”

Inside the main building was chaos as the mercenaries clambered to prepare before the assault began. The first to be ready was the Spy, as he hurled the book he had been reading onto his neat bed, and went out to prepare his weapons. 

The Sniper was next, exiting his room with a couple empty jars. He had left behind his hat and sunglasses, and, still rubbing his eyes, went down the corridor to the bathrooms. 

Giving Sniper a look out of the corner of his eyes, the Medic rushed downstairs to the supply room, hastily pulling on his coat over his vest. He then scrambled for his Medi Gun and backpack.

Upstairs, a roar shook the walls as the Heavy emerged from his room, already slinging his formidable minigun. 

"Little robots dare wake Sasha and Heavy from our sleep?! We will crush them!! " 

The Pyro stuck its head out from behind its door, shaking its masked head and muttering at the disturbance. It disappeared back into its room and reappeared a second later with its flamethrower. 

As the resupply area grew more crowded, the Engineer showed up with his toolbox. He began loading ammo and metal into it, then turned to his sentries and dispensers. Despite being down later than most of the others, he was the first out onto the battlements, already setting up on the front lines. 

Stern yelling radiated from upstairs. 

"SCOUT! GET OUT OF YOUR BED! THE ROBOTS ARE ATTACKING!" The Soldier commanded, banging on the Scout's door. 

"But it's so frickin late right now, c'mon man…" Scout complained, still lying on his bed. 

"I DO NOT CARE HOW LATE YOU THINK IT IS! IT IS OUR DUTY TO DEFEND THIS FACILITY AND BY GOD YOU'LL DO IT!" 

Scout continued grumbling as he heard Soldier's footsteps retreat back into his own room. The young mercenary went to pull the blankets back over his head when he heard a sharp crack from behind his door. 

"SCOUT! I HAVE A DISCIPLINARY ACTION AND I AM NOT AFRAID TO USE IT! GET UP AND OUT, MAGGOT, OR I WILL COME IN AND GET YOU OUT!"  

"Alright, fine! I'm out!" Scout called, flinging his blanket aside and jumping into his shoes. 

When Scout finally did go downstairs, Soldier was in the Demoman's room. 

"Get up, we have a battle to fight." Soldier said, pulling Demo off his bed. Demo let out a drunken slurry of words. 

"Och, m’busy.. needa bit more.. *hic* just holdonasecineeedaaugh.. mmmm.. drink.."

The Eyelander spoke up from its place leaned against the wall. "If I were still alive, I'd be helpin' ya out, but I'm not! So get off that bed, man, we got some robot heads to take!" 

"The sword is right! Get up Demo, we need you! You can have a drink only when you get down there!" Soldier encouraged, helping Demo up. 

"Aeughh alright lad c'mon Eyelander let's go suit up." 

He staggered to his feet and went to get his vest and the Eyelander's scabbard. 

"Good work. I will meet you downstairs." Soldier said, leaving him to prepare. Sniper accompanied him downstairs, with fresh jarate. 

Out on the field, Engie had gotten all his buildings up. His sentry was watching the cliffs, beeping thrice vigilantly. 

Looking up from his toolbox, he stared at the mothership, now close and looming. Medic came up next to him, Medi Gun already crackling with energy. 

"So this is it, doc." Engie said. 

Medic looked at him. "Vhat? We have zhe respawn system and zhe reanimators." 

"No, not death. I trust you on that. Our mission. We're running low on supplies, ammunition, the such. If we run out and can't defend against the robots… the Administrator..." 

Scout ran out of the base and over to the large rock that was in the middle of the field. He climbed atop it, trying to peer over the cliff at the carrier. 

"Uhh guys?" he called down, "I'm seein' movement!" 

Demo had just arrived and was placing stickybombs down as Soldier fell out of the sky. He let out a grunt, before calling "Medic!" 

Medic shook his head, "If you stopped rocket jumping you wouldn't break your legs all zhe time!", but still ran over to heal him. 

Another announcement sounded as the mothership's gates opened. “Robot attack imminent."  

Engie whipped out his Wrangler. "Here we go, boys!" 

"Prepare for battle in three… two… one.” 

The first group of robots emerged from the cliffs, jumping down with the clanking of metal. Engie pointed his sentry towards them and started with a rocket barrage. Soldier instantly shot up into the air and sent his own air strike down. Heavy let out a roar as he peppered the robots, and the cliff, with bullets. 

With a click, Demo detonated his stickybombs, sending rended metal and shrapnel everywhere. 

"Ka-boom! Take that ya tin cans!" He yelled, punching the air. 

Scout jumped off the rock and began collecting what money he could salvage, shoving it into his bag. He didn't understand why anyone would want to build money-powered robots, but he wasn't complaining: free money for him when he bashed those ugly heaps of metal!

He zipped around and up to where Engie had set up, depositing the money into one of the empty toolboxes. "Make sure ya keep an eye on that, hardhat!" Scout called. 

Engie didn't even seem to notice him. His eyes were focused on the hoard of robots, hands stiff and twitching on his Wrangler. Robot pyros had begun to descend. 

Disappointed, Scout ran back out, shooting down a scoutbot that had somehow gotten past their main defence line. 

The metallic bodies of the robots slowly began to pile up. Amidst it, Medic was darting around, flash healing as many teammates as he could. 

Soldier let out a cry as a flashing rocket hit him head on, one he had fired himself. He exploded in a splash of blood and guts. 

Sniper took care of the robot pyro that had reflected Soldier's rocket. "They're gettin' smarter..." he muttered under his breath to no one. 

Medic ran over to Soldier's reanimator, focusing his healing beam onto it. Behind him, Demo screamed as he was burnt alive. He collapsed, dropping his reanimator. 

Still keeping his Medi Gun focused on Soldier, Medic pointed with his left hand at Demo, index and middle finger extended. 

Demo's silhouette glowed, and in a second he was back. Medic quickly changed his hand to a thumbs up. 

Demo gave one in return. "Good on ya, Medic!" he called, before continuing to lob grenades. Soldier was revived a second later. "Back from the dead and reporting for duty! Thanks, Doc!" 

Engie was moving a dispenser further back for Heavy and Pyro, who were resupplying their weapons. The sentry watched over them. 

Scout went back to Engie's nest to deposit money again. Sniper's voice came through his headset.

" Scout, alert them at the front line. There's a large robot comin' out. Can see it from 'ere. I reckon there're some snipers too." 

He nodded in Sniper's general direction, then ran back towards the firefight, scattergun out and ready. 

On the way back, he found Spy waiting behind a corner. He had his revolver out and was peeking around. 

"Uhh.. Spy?" he asked. "Are you gonna-" 

Spy groaned, rolling his eyes. "Does it look like I'm a frontline fighter? Now isn't the… oh forget it, you wouldn't understand. Go run out there and get yourself killed on your own." He looked away and cloaked, disappearing. Scout shrugged. 

"Medic!" Heavy called, taking a hit from a scoutbot. Scout flanked around them, shooting down the robot as Medic arrived to heal Heavy. 

"Uhh, Snipes wanted me to warn ya about some big robots or somethin'," Scout said, clicking his scattergun to reload. Demo began laying stickies in response, but was cut off when the giant robot soldier jumped down. The ground shook with each advancing step. 

Demo staggered back, then started spamming stickies at the robot's feet. Soldier did the same. Medic raised his Medi Gun to deploy a shield. 

"You shall go no- AHHHHH!!" Medic screamed, clutching his head as he fell to the ground. 

"Snipers! Watch out, men!" Soldier commanded, looking for laser sights. "We need to hold this ground until Medic respawns!" Scout jumped around to distract them. 

The ground shook again when another giant soldierbot entered the valley. They paid no heed to the explosives and bullets focused on them. 

The giant soldierbots seemed to pause for a second, before they both unleashed a barrage of rockets with a rush of smoke and flames. 

The mercs screamed, watching doom rain from above. Heavy tried to shoot down as many of the rockets as he could, but with each that he took down, another replaced it. 

Almost instinctively, Heavy turned his face away and braced himself, almost as if protecting Sasha. 

"We failed, men." Soldier said, dropping his arms and accepting his fate. 

But someone denied fate. 

There were bangs, explosion impacts, and an electrical ringing sound. Prying their eyes apart, the mercs saw Medic with his Medi Gun raised, deploying a shield and blocking the barrage. His teeth were gritted, he held his gun high. 

"Doctor!" Heavy called to him. Medic nodded. 

The giant soldierbots were reloading, watching the smoke clear. They moved slowly, as if checking for survivors. 

Glowing shots ripped through the air, piercing the robots' armour. They stumbled back, reloading quicker. They would finish them with another barrage. 

Heavy and Medic emerged from the smoke, Sasha crackling with critical energy. Heavy roared, focusing the first robot. Demo and Soldier helped too, but did negligible damage compared to him. Pyro tried to hit it with flares from a distance. 

The first giant soldierbot exploded, scattering metal and burnt paper everywhere. Medic narrowly avoided getting his arm hacked off by a flying piece of shrapnel. The second one however was fully loaded, and unleashed its attack. 

Heavy, completely absorbed in the task of shooting his opponent to smithereens, took the barrage full on. Demo jumped back, shielding his face. Soldier landed next to him. 

Having killed its main attacker, the soldierbot rotated to look at Soldier and Demo. Its glowing eyes seemed to scan them, evaluating. 

Soldier grabbed his friend and rocket jumped away, further up the hill. The robot followed them, slowly but surely approaching. 

"HAHAHAHA!! DO NOT LOOK AWAY YET LITTLE GIANT!! HEAVY IS STILL IN THE FIGHT!!!" 

The giant soldierbot spun around, only to be blasted again with piercing shots. Heavy laughed, so proud and powerful in his Medic-induced invulnerability. 

"Go get zhem! Raus, raus!!" Medic called, the two pushing forward towards the giant bot with their Übercharge. 

Soldier healed up at a dispenser, then went with Demo and Pyro to deal with the final wave of normal robots. 

The giant soldierbot stumbled under Heavy's gunfire, unable to retaliate. Heavy continued laughing, his face split by his smile. Medic's smirk was just as condescending. 

But just as the robot began to fall apart, Sasha faltered, emitting a sad clicking sound. "Ah! Sasha is out!" Heavy cried, leaving Medic and rushing to find the dispenser. 

Now in range, the sentry perked up, swinging around to fire at the robot. It only got a couple seconds on target before it was blown up by the giant robot's rockets, taking Engie with it. 

Medic ran around at the robot's feet, trying to distract it. The giant soldierbot ignored him, continuing to advance towards the bomb hatch. 

It knew there wasn't much a Medic could do to hurt it. 

Sniper picked off a couple shots, but the robot ignored him. He scurried to a closer point, then lobbed a jarate at it.

Scout's amused voice cracked through his radio. " What was that? What's that supposed to do?" He mocked, chuckling. 

" More than you're doing. Go help Medic." 

Scout grumbled. " Alright, okay. No need to be so rude." 

He ran down the path opposite the one the robot had taken, in time to see Medic and the giant robot. Medic had an arm up, hand open and fingers outstretched, as if blocking or reaching for the robot. The giant robot wasn't targeting him though, still stomping towards the hatch. 

Heavy came out from where Engie had built the dispenser, and began rushing as quick as he could towards Medic. 

But before he could attack, the robot exploded. Medic staggered back, blocking his face. 

Engie exited the respawn to see that the battle had ended. 

"Well done. Get back to base and resupply before they return." The Administrator said to them, still no sign of emotion in her voice. 

Exhausted and hurt, but proud, the mercenaries regrouped.

One by one, they entered the building from the two shutter doors. The room had a grate floor in the middle, but the two sides were wide openings into their base. On the left was their social quarters and kitchen, and the stairs leading up to their bedrooms. On the right was the resupply room, with munitions and weaponry. 

They each found somewhere to sit. Heavy was on a bench with Sasha next to him, while the others sat on stools or chairs. Soldier stood at attention next to a cabinet, while Spy leaned up against a wall. Medic walked around healing them, for they didn't have access to the quick resupply cabinets they had during the Gravel Wars. 

Heavy looked up at Medic, noticing his worried expression. The doctor was spaced out, as if deep in thought. 

Engie came out of a door that lead to the rest of their supplies. He had a small notepad in hand and a pencil behind his ear. 

"Alright everyone, I got a stocktake. We should have been resupplied today, but as you can tell, we haven't, so we're just gonna have to make do."

Murmurs came from everyone. Spy took a large drag of his cigarette. Medic found a seat and plopped down into it, still staring but not seeing. 

Engie continued. "The good news? Scout, Sniper and Spy don't have to worry. The standard cartridges you use, we have plenty of, so you won't run out of ammo. The bad news…"

He sighed, with a barely noticeable shake of the head. 

"... is everything else." He turned to Soldier, who snapped his head up to attention. 

"Soldier, we have about a hundred rockets left. I need some for my sentry, so I'm assigning 60 to you. Make them count."

Soldier nodded stiffly, then put a hand to salute. "Yes sir!" 

"Pyro?" Engie asked. 

They looked up. "Mmmhmm?"

"I can upgrade your gas canister, but that still won't give you more than a couple minutes of continuous burn time. We could try using normal gas, but that might affect your performance. You do have plenty of flares though, so use then if you have to."

Pyro nodded, then went back to playing with their lighter. 

Engie watched Demo, who was chugging on his scrumpy. 

"Demo…" he spoke slowly, addressing him. 

Demo perked up. "Aye?" 

"You… used up most of your stickies."

"Ah did?"

"You sure did. Got perhaps two full clips left back there."

"Ah cripe…" Demo hung his head, letting his hands drop to his side, spilling some of his drink. 

"You also only have a couple dozen pipes left. May want to cut back on the aimless shootin there pardner." 

Demo shrugged. "Aye, will take note. Besides, Eyelander's edgin’ to take some robot heads." He gestured to the sword laying against the wall behind him, then took another slurp out of his bottle. 

Finally, Engie faced Heavy. He inhaled, then exhaled, looking at his notepad. 

"Now… big guy… We have one million dollar crate of Super Caliber custom tooled cartridges back there, but at your maximum rate of fire, that'll getcha 30 seconds, tops. I could turn the RPM of your gun down a bit, but I'll letcha decide if you want that." 

Heavy put a hand to his chin, looking at Sasha then back to Engie. 

When he didn't reply, Engie continued, finishing up his briefing. He took the pencil off his ear, placing it with the notepad on a table.

"That's all guys. I don't wanna sugarcoat anything, so I'll just say it: unless we have a miracle, chances are we won't make it out today." 

Defeated silence filled the room. Sniper grumbled, grabbed some ammo and left. The team gradually dispersed onto the battlements, until Engie, Medic and Scout were the last ones left. 

Scout was counting the money he had collected. Medic was sat at a table, head propped up on his arm while he looked out into space. He tapped the table with his other hand, pausing for a moment to look at it, as if seeing something else. He then put his middle finger and thumb together, snapping his fingers several times in front of his face before noticing Engie watching him and hurriedly tucked his hand away, going back to staring at the tabletop. 

Engie packed up a toolbox and hauled it onto his shoulder. As he was about to leave, he shot one last offhand comment towards Medic. 

"Oh, by the way Doc, how long do you plan on going with a broken hose?"  

Medic sat up. Engie pointed to the tube connecting the Medi Gun to the backpack.  

Medic stood up, lifting the Medi Gun up to find that the hose had indeed broken, completely severed. A couple drops of liquid fell from the open pipe. 

Medic had a surprised look on his face, but seemed nonchalant. "It's broken? Oh vell, I'll have to-" 

Engie shook his head, dismissing him. "It's been for a while actually, no idea how you're still healin'." 

"Zhere must be some left in the gun." Medic said desperately, shaking a little. 

"That's not possible you've been healin' for a while. It's been broken since you got back here after that wave."

"Zhe medigun doesn't actually use zhat much-"  

"Sure it does. Back in the day, you needed to refill after every match." Engie said matter of factly. 

Medic cursed. "Verdammt- have you been watching me??" 

Scout abandoned his money and came over to see what the nerds were up to.  

Engie set down his tool box, speaking to Medic seriously. "Doc, you owe us an explanation. What black magic are you workin'?"  

"Well... uhhhhh.. "  

Medic laughed nervously, taking his backpack off and putting it on the table with the Medi Gun. He had a troubled look on his face, and stuttered as if tongue tied. 

"C'mon Medic, spit it out. Whatever it is, it can't be that bad. You can trust us." Engie said seriously. 

Medic coughed, eyes darting around. He couldn't see Engie's eyes, but could tell they were glaring into his soul. 

"Aheheh.. well.. you're not wrong about zhe 'black magic'," he started. "... it's true that it's not just a technological advancement..." 

Engie raised an eyebrow, not convinced.

"In a way... It's less magic and more… superhuman?" 

Scout nodded slowly, seeming to understand. 

"It's… an ability… that I have. All the stuff zhat I do is something I do myself, rather than being an invention. Zhere's actually a lot more zhat I can do. Does zhat make sense?" 

Engie chuckled. "Nope." 

Medic looked around, deliberating, searching for an answer. 

"Uhh.. you know zhose superhero comics? You could zhink of me as having superpowers-" 

Engie broke into a laugh, having to turn away to hide his face. Scout on the other hand was gaping in awe. 

"So you're telling me.. you're Superman?" Scout's eyes sparkled. 

Medic stomped his foot in frustration, then shook his head vigorously, as if releasing the final shackles in his mind that held him down. "Nein! I'm- a god!" 

Engie recovered, clearing his throat. "You say that all the time. I always attributed it to your god complex." 

"I'm actually a god!" Medic exclaimed, not noticing the absurdity of his claim. No point hiding now. 

"You're God?" Scout asked with wowed admiration. "Am I going to go to heaven?" 

"No! I'm a god! Nothing to do with religion!" Medic shouted, infuriated. 

An announcement interrupted their argument. "Prepare for the next wave." 

Engie looked out to the battlements, then back to Medic. “Sorry Doc, but that's a buncha crap. There's simply no proof that such a being exists. Go repair your-" 

"Fine! I'll prove it!" Medic said, spitting it at them. Before the other two could respond, he floated into the air, hovering above their heads. His hair brushed the ceiling. 

"Is zhis enough?" 

Engie stepped back. Now it was his turn to gasp. Scout shrugged. 

"Ehh, Solly and Demo can fly in the air. Big deal! You can too!" 

Engie approached, raising his arms towards Medic. 

"Hmm. Lemme pat ya down to make sure ya aint usin' any more tricks."  

Medic floated down until Engie could reach him. He lingered in a sideways position, like he was lying down, in the air. Engie searched him, feeling for any concealed objects. 

When he didn't find any, he stepped back and picked up his toolbox again. "Well, I'm convinced, Doc. I might be a man of science, but I believe evidence when I see it in front of me. Looks like we got our miracle." He said simply, before going out to prepare. 

Scout and Medic watched him go. 

The former suddenly spun around to face the still floating Medic. "Alright, Engie agrees, but I don't! Flying is cheap superpower stuff! Show me your energy manipulation or reality bending or-" 

Medic wordlessly grabbed him, went outside, and hurled him into the air.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHhhhhhh!" Scout's scream echoed across the valley.

Medic flew up and caught Scout by the back of his shirt, at the peak of his trajectory, 30 metres above the ground. He then flew out past the main boundaries of the base, into the forest. He held Scout out at an arms length. 

"Convinced yet?" Medic asked with a smile.

Scout quivered, looking down at the floor below, then to Medic. "W-We're outside of the respawn's range, and I d-don't wanna die for r-real." He whimpered, trying to grab Medic's arm and climb closer to his body. "B-but... I still don't believe you!"

Medic let go of his shirt, sending Scout plummeting down.

His screams once again filled the air, but were abruptly cut off by a sickening crack. Medic landed on the ground, next to the bloody mess that was once Scout.

He raised a hand, index and middle finger out, pointed at the snarky boy's corpse.

There was an engulfing light. When it faded a second later, the body had disappeared.

Scout stood in front of him, shook to the core. He let out a short yelp, felt his body, then looked to Medic, who had just dropped his arm back down. Now he stood with both arms held behind his back.

Before Scout could say anything, Medic interjected.

"You've said it yourself, Herr Scout, out of respawn range. Have I made my point clear?"

Scout nodded, shaking. He still had his hands around his body, as if feeling for something that wasn't there. 

"Good. Now go prepare. We aren't that far from the base. Go there yourself." Medic commanded, floating back into the air.

Scout pointed at him with hesitating finger guns. "Yes… Doc! I will… go do that! Thank you!", he said, before running back. 

Medic flew around and went back inside to the resupply room, where he left his Medi Gun and backpack. He'd go into battle with none of it. After so long… he had forgotten how good it felt. There would be some things he had to practice, re-learn, but the robots would be perfect test subjects. There would be no one else to see, only his team. 

He would deal with the consequences of his choice later. 

He took off the belt at his waist, and the 'suspenders' attached to it. He also unbuttoned his coat, letting the collar and sides hang loose. He had no need for them now, they'd just be restrictive. 

"Incoming robot battalion! Defend our honor! Kill them!”

Taking one last look back at his gear on the table, he looked down at his hands, then out the window at the robot mothership. 

Not thinking twice, he hastily pulled off his gloves and left them with the rest of his stuff. 

After all, this next operation was going to be... quite interesting. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Deus Ex Machina

End of Replay. Cameras offline. Recording terminated automatically.
"Hmm. I was sure the attack lasted longer than that... and now I am certain… Pauling will have to investigate. This Medic is… particularly interesting…"

---------

"As far as I see, there is nothing wrong with playing god if you are one. And the thing about gods… is that they can do whatever they want. No mortal can judge the divine's judgement. But what would I know? I'm just a doctor..."

Despite the battle calling, Medic still ruminated his decision, turning it around in his mind. Was going public with his godly status the correct choice, after managing to keep it hidden for so long?

No, no matter, he told himself. You'd deal with the consequences later, you've decided that. Worry about now, where you need to be, where people need you. Whatever you believed before, forget it. These people trust you for who you are, and you need to protect them.

The sound of gunfire and clashing metal filled the air. The valley near the Mannworks base was lit up in the darkness by flashes of light, outshining the moon that still hung high behind a blanket of clouds. A mothership sat perched atop of the rocky ridge, its open hull a mechanical maw spitting robotic mercenaries. Among them, a 'lucky' one would carry a bomb until downed, at which point another would take its place; their intent: to blow up Mannworks and its defenders.

Pushing his thoughts to the side, Medic sprinted to get to the front lines, before taking a running jump and flying up to where Engie had set up. He flew with his arms at his side, not out in front like a certain superhero did. He spun around in the air before landing lightly next to Engie.

He was once again wrangling his sentry, but looked over to Medic for a moment.

"Nice of you to finally join us! Now show us what you're really capable of!"

Medic shrugged, then let out a nervous laugh. "Uhhh…. I'm not actually completely sure what I can do."

Engie glanced at him again. "What?"

"It's been so long since I last used my abilities, I don't remember what I can do beyond zhe Medi-Gun things…"

Engie focused back on the fight. "Well, no better time than now!"

Medic nodded and hopped down to where the rest of the team was fighting. Pyro was closest, so he lifted his right arm to push the handle forward, only to realise the Medi-Gun wasn't there anymore.

Almost laughing at his fumble, he stretched his hand out instead, projecting a familiar energy beam like he was casting magic. It connected to Pyro, who uttered a muffled surprise as their wounds closed up almost instantly. Medic gasped, astonished at what he could do without the Medi-Gun to restrict him.

What else is possible?

Pyro thanked him with a nod. Medic then dashed over to Heavy, who was under fire.

"Doktor! You are wizard?" Heavy asked, eyeing Medic's new healing method.

"Eheh, not exactly. But you could zhink of it like zhat for now!"

Heavy smiled, then yelled "HAHA! BE AFRAID ROBOTS! HEAVY AND WIZARD MEDIC ARE COMING FOR YOU!"

Medic switched over to heal Soldier, who had just landed after a rocket jump. Scout whizzed by, giving Medic a quizzical look.

Further back towards their base, from behind a building, Demo called "MEEEEEEDIC!"

Shaking his head, Medic started walking in the drunkard's direction. He'd likely run out of explosives by now and was probably almost dead from charging at robots and attacking them with a sword. Or maybe he just liked charging at robots and attacking them with a sword. Who knows what goes on inside the mind of a drunken Scot.

Medic held back from flying, as he'd just be an easy target for snipers, who the Administrator had just announced. Demo was far back, he was sure, it'd take a while to -

His vision blurred for a second, causing him to stop running. When he refocused, Demo was in front of him. Medic stared around at his surroundings. He could hear the battle going on, but it sounded distant. Hadn't he just been…

Demo was just as confused. "...Wot?"

Medic stared at him. "What just…"

"Ya, uh… like a Spy uncloaking, but quicker? Ya just appeared, lad." Demo explained best he could. "But enough 'bout that, little help?" He gestured to his severed arm, which was still holding the Eyelander.

Medic slapped himself, hurriedly healing Demo. "Sorry, I was a bit... Haha, I guess I can teleport too!"

This'll be fun.

Demo raised an eyebrow, but didn't question further. He tested his arm, then stood up and thrusted his sword into the air.

"FREEEEEEEEEEDOM!" he screamed as he charged back into battle. Medic watched him run off.

"Attention! A sentry buster has entered the area!"

All eyes turned to it, surprised one hadn't appeared earlier. Medic could hear its rhythmic ticking, but couldn't tell which direction it was coming from.

"Engineer! I'm coming!" Medic called. He looked towards one of the outlooks on the left. He could almost see Engie and his sentry, if he could just get there in time.

His vision blurred again, and suddenly he could see it. It was quicker this time, and had a peculiar feeling. As if he was a piece on a board game, picked up from one place and dropped into another. His feet never left the ground, but it felt like he had moved up through the aether, to bridge the gap in space.

All I have to do is picture the destination, the subject, and will my presence into it.

Engie gasped. He had his sentry packed up already, getting ready to haul out. "D-Doc?"

Medic waved his arms. "Don't worry about it! Go!" He pointed at the exit. Engie nodded, jogging off as quick as he could.

The sentry buster danced over to them, cornering Engie and beginning to spin up, but then was knocked back suddenly as Medic gave it a shove with his telekinesis. It flew through the air a good ten metres, before landing in the middle of the field and blowing up a group of robots instead. Beads of sweat adorned Medic's brow after mentally lifting such a heavy load while out of practice.

A cry came from behind a wall, where Scout emerged, panting. "The freakin' sentry buster just blew up Heavy and Demo!" He shouted, pointing.

Medic looked at Scout, hoping his face hid his guilty look. Oops.
"Ah, Scout!" he started. "Zhank you for telling me. Eheheh.." He looked away nervously then flew off to revive the fallen teammates.

Raising both arms, he extended his index and middle fingers, the gesture he used to revive, and pointed at both Heavy and Demo's reanimators, which would now only serve to mark their point of death.

Heavy let out a triumphant laugh, picking up his Sasha, and Demo gave a cheer, punching the air, as they were brought back to life. Medic stood by behind them as giant scoutbots jumped down, tearing down the path, followed by demo and soldierbots.

Heavy glanced back at Medic, shouting "Ready charge Doktor!" Medic nodded as the Russian looked back forward, and connected a healing beam to him. He reached down with his left hand to flick the charge switch… to again realise that it wasn't there.

Medic stared at the incoming robots with dread as Heavy spun up his gun, not aware that Medic didn't have one ready. "Hit charge Doktor!" he called back.

Hiding his hesitation, Medic responded "Ja!", not wanting to worry Heavy with the charge issue. The Medi-Gun was in fact fully functional, he had designed it to mimic his natural abilities, but when he had gotten so used to its automatic charging and handling of energy, not having it was like riding a bike without the training wheels. You had more freedom, but it was also less stable.

Still tired from the previous telekinesis burst and with Heavy already pushing through he couldn't ponder too much: he simply decided to push all the energy he could gather within himself through the healing connection and hope that it would work. As soon as he initiated the charge he felt his power drain faster than he had expected and his head started spinning - maybe he had gone a little overboard?

Scratch 'a little': all the lights around them flickered on brightly before promptly bursting in a rain of tiny glass shards. Heavy's gait faltered in confusion, his übercharged red-glowing frame the only remaining source of light in the pitch black night. A faint string of Texan accented curses coming from the rear defence position informed Medic that the accidental electromagnetic discharge had spread to the entire compound. Oops. Again.

For a moment everything was quiet.

Wait, does it mean the robots too…?

The metal hunks had indeed stopped in their tracks, the light blue pinpricks of their eyes now black and empty. Sparks of electricity ran along their shells giving off the impression of broken wiring. But no sooner than a second later their beady eyes lit up again, now an eerie shade of red.

"OVERCHARGE TAMPERING ATTEMPT DETECTED - INITIATE EMERGENCY AGGRESSION MODULE"

Well, that doesn't sound too good.

The robots immediately started firing upon them, but their shots simply bounced off the still übercharged Russian. Medic tried to steady his arm, which was trembling from exertion, as he stood behind Heavy.

Soldier rocket jumped down from the sky, bombarding the super scouts as they charged towards the hatch. He shouted to Engie, who rushed to move his sentry into position.

Medic continued sustaining the charge as Heavy took blow after blow, completely losing track of time. Heavy hollered in cheer as he barrelled through the pesky robots. "Nice charge Doktor! Longer than usual!"

Longer than usual? Oh no! He had built the Medi-Gun so that charges only lasted around eight seconds, or else the power may be dangerous for the one receiving the charge. Upon this realisation Medic cut off the stream of energy and grabbed Heavy - "Что?! Doktor?"-, pulling him aside to check on him. The burly man seemed to only then feel the toll the prolonged übercharge had taken on his body, but a good night of sleep would fix it.

Heavy panted, and looked down at Sasha forlornly as Medic fussed over him. "Sasha is out of bullet. Engineer says we have run out. Heavy cannot use Sasha anymore."

Medic opened his mouth to say something, but Heavy stopped him. "No. Medic needs to protect team. Do not worry about Heavy."

He wanted to interject again, but Heavy's serious look stopped him. He nodded, then flew off to find someone else to pocket.

Hovering over the battlefield, he tried to make out the shapes of robots and teammates in the distance. Dim lights now brightened the area so someone must have turned on the backup generators, but the spot where he had originally unleashed the übercharge was like an inky dot of shadow, the lightbulbs fried beyond repair.

Their glowing eyes made the robots stand out in the darkened zone, and Sniper seemed to be taking advantage of that. A blaze of fire highlighted the Pyro's location. The demobot approaching them from behind suddenly collapsing suggested Spy was also in the area.

A chain of explosions on his left meant Demo had probably just finished his stickies in a coordinated ambush with Soldier - the same Soldier who was now whizzing past him at high speed with a "Oh, hey Medic! Bye Medic!" before landing on a heavybot like a stepping stone.

Scout was most likely to be running communications since the radios were surely busted. Heavy was falling back to the defence line as expected with Sasha out of order, Engie greeting him briskly.

The whole team was working as a well oiled machine against the, well, actual machines they had to fight. Medic felt a surge of pride washing over him; affection for the ragtag group of misfits he had come to trust with his secret.

He flew down to where Engie was defending. "What's the situation out there, Doc?" Engie asked, getting his sentry back online.

Medic gave a brief status report of what he had just seen from his aerial survey, completely skipping over the messy übercharge deal and hoping Engie wouldn't pry too much - not knowing the perceptive Texan was much more worried about how tired he looked.

Sensing an unspoken matter but deciding to drop it for now, Engie sighed, rushing about. "The super scouts are faster than any giant robot we've had to deal with before. My sentry and the others are doin' a good job keeping them back, but it's gettin' close. The bomb's no more than 30 feet from the hatch. Dunno what kind of weird EMP went off a minute ago but I ain't happy about it! The bots as well, they got more vicious after. "

Medic cursed quietly to himself. He watched as Heavy came nearby, leaving Sasha propped up against a wall, and began loading shells into his shotgun. He was almost cowering, and it hurt the doctor to see the giant of a man hiding with a tiny shotgun as his weapon, all while a minigun was right there, but out of commission. If only she had infinite ammunition.

He heard a cry in pain as someone was sniped from across the battlefield. He couldn't tell exactly who, could've been Soldier or Demo, but could tell its approximate direction. Explosions rang out as he shut his eyes, trying to focus enough to teleport over there.

"Doc! Little help here!" Scout shouted, running past him only to suddenly fall to another sniper. Medic watched the reanimator's vitals tracker hologram, something seeming off.

Shouldn't… they be respawning? Unless…

He quickly revived Scout, waving away his thanks. "I think zhe respawn system is offline! Tell zhe others! I can only keep track of and revive so many people at once!" He pointed, instructing Scout to go tell Sniper and the defense first.

Scout nodded, running off. Medic followed him, shoving aside some robots as Scout then shot them. He again tried to picture his fallen teammate, but the chaos unfolding around him clouded his vision still.

Seeing as the coast was clear, he took to the air again, but not one second later, his head was pierced with lead as he was sniped perfectly by one of the robots. His vision faded…

He respawned himself, back at base. He instinctively reached for his head, as if to block the shot, except that he was too late. Now he laid low, running as fast as he could to his previously fallen teammate. It was Soldier.

"Soldier back and- ahh!" Soldier grunted as Medic took him aside, into an alcove.

"Listen, Soldier. The snipers have perfect aim. We can only get them if we're quick and trick them."

Soldier nodded. He peeked out, but jumped back as he almost got sniped again. Medic snorted to himself. "Almost perfect aim," he corrected. Soldier snickered, still finding humour in light of the situation.

Medic now peeked out, but saw a couple sniper robots fall. The air around them seemed to move, like waves of heat off the ground on a summer's day. One of the robots moved to reposition behind another when the one in front fell, revealing a slender man in a suit for a split second, before he disappeared into smoke and became a robot again.

"Spy!" Soldier exclaimed happily. Medic smiled too, watching him. So the snipers were mostly covered. He nodded to Soldier, then ran back to where the others were defending the hatch.

They were holding up for now, but who could tell how long this wave was going to last? After the übercharge mess up, the metal lookalikes had come back with a vengeance, and their numbers seemed to be steadily increasing. The closer the robots edged, the more Medic got a feeling of dread. Spy should be able to handle the snipers. Soldier re-joined him, having dropped his rocket launcher and picked up a shotgun - he had run out of rockets then.

The sentry's beeping, turning back and forth as it shot at the oncoming army of robots, snapped Medic out of his anxious thoughts. The missile battery up top did nothing... Engie was running low as well, with insufficient material for even a dispenser. Heavy roared, trying his best to keep up with his baby gun.

Despite their best efforts to eliminate as many enemies as possible, whenever a robot fell, two sprung up to take its place, like an evil mechanical hydra, or a swarm of ants set on attacking a bomb-hatch-shaped picnic basket. Minutes felt like hours as the mercenaries fought valiantly to defend their objective and their teammates, but soon enough Engineer, Heavy, Medic, Soldier and a de-cloaked Spy found themselves back to back, and surrounded on all sides.

The metallic crowd shifted to make way for the bomb-bearer, and at that moment Sniper manifested his rooftop presence by planting a bullet between its ugly eyes, making the robots momentarily freeze in confusion. Heavy took advantage of the diversion to club the closest hunk of metal with his ammo-less shotgun, immediately forgoing it for his own fists and a battle cry.

"I WILL CRUSH BABY ROBOTS WITH BARE HANDS! YAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"

And just like that a close quarters skirmish broke loose, metal fighting for victory, flesh fighting for survival. Amidst the chaos, Medic was trying his best to heal everyone and keep himself alive, flight useless with enemies looming over him left and right. A mantra of verdammt verdammt verdammt was the only thought on his mind.

The first to succumb to the waves was Scout, having arrived from the rear to find a swarming wall of robots blocking his way. "Me- M- Medic…" he gurgled while going down with a butterfly knife in the chest. The German heard him despite the distance, for he always heard their calls for him. This required immediate action!

Ok, he thought. Picture the destination, the subject - verdammt - and will my presence into it. Picture... Scout - verdammt - and will my-

"SCHEISSE!" he shouted out loud as Soldier was exploded by one of his counterparts' rockets, singeing Engie and covering the surrounding area in sticky blood. Before even being able to complain about his ruined suit, Spy was set alight by a gaggle of pyrobots.

Sniper tried to go for a revenge kill, but a sniperbot followed the bullet's trajectory and put an arrow in his forehead in turn. His lifeless body slumped and fell in front of the Pyro, cutting off their escape route and ensuring the fire enthusiast's death by a metal bat to the head.

Demo charged towards them, not knowing he was already too late. Two of his copycats intercepted him along the way, and only his cries reached his destination as he was brutally decapitated. Closer to the hatch, a crackle of electricity, an explosion, and a "Sentry down!" were all that was heard of Engie before he was stabbed to death by a decloaking spybot.

Fighting off his own rabid fan club, Medic's eyes locked onto the last person standing: Heavy. Their gazes met and Heavy shook his head, motioning to the body of their fallen comrades. But the moment of distraction made him miss the glint of metal, the blade flying through the air.

The Russian had opened his mouth to talk, when a sudden impact made him freeze. He looked down to find a cleaver in his heart. Arms shaking, he reached for it, turning his head to look at Medic, who watched him fall in slow motion.

"Don't worry Doktor, is just... scratch..." Heavy spluttered before his eyes glazed over, his chest still.

Medic let out a cry in rage, then shot into the sky, blowing the robots around him away with a shockwave. He performed a sharp turn in the air and shot towards the robots like a missile. He landed on the ground before them, away from the base, skidding a couple feet before standing straight.

The robots saw him and began rushing towards him, having turned their attention away from the bomb hatch at the sight of a flying medic. Perhaps such an anomaly was enough to distract them from their primary objective. In the spur of the moment, Medic pointed a finger gun at one of them, then, visualising it as a cannon in his mind, pulled the trigger.

The robot exploded, like it had self destructed. He jumped back and fired again, destroying another robot. The fact that his team wasn't around to watch the spectacle only drove him further.

But when one was destroyed, still, another replaced it. He was being swarmed, even though he was shooting them down one by one.

No. A cannon is too slow. You need to destroy them all in one fell swoop!

Medic jumped and flew back around, so that he was hovering behind the robots' frontline. He could see the whole base, all the robots in his view. He raised a hand, palm open as if reaching for them. If only... He could tear them apart from the inside. He formed in his mind, a vision of the robots being ripped apart like paper.

He swung his arm through the air, across his body, directed at the robots.

They all collapsed, instantly deconstructed into nothing but piles of scrap. Their parts clattered across the ground, some bits twitching for a second before they stilled.

Medic landed back on the ground, amidst the silent battlefield that now lay littered with robot parts. He had ended the battle in an instant.

Then he threw back his head and let out a maniacal laugh, his hands clawed, grabbing at the air and at himself. He looked at his hands, then at the destruction he had caused.

He grinned, flexing his fingers as he went back to resurrect the team.

Perhaps… it won't be that bad. After all… I am a god. And what is there to be afraid of anymore? What is right, what is wrong… possible and impossible… everything… is in my hands. And with these hands, I will protect those that are near to me. That is who I will be.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: A Pauling’s Scale

Respawning was like taking a gulp of air after holding your breath for so long you’d forgotten how to properly breathe. You never really got used to it. It was intoxicating, exhilarating, and yet somewhat painful. Even more so when the cause of your death was a cleaver to the heart. 

Eyes still closed, Heavy patted down his ribs, and knuckles, and the spots that had felt sore right up until they didn’t anymore. He took note of the thankful absence of the weapon previously stuck in his chest. 

Finally feeling confident in his chances of survival despite the deep fatigue that weighed down his limbs, the Russian opened his eyes to see that he was still standing over the bomb hatch at Mannworks. How...? 

Now fully coming to his senses, he realized his teammates were doing what he’d just done: checking healed injuries, muttering surprised whispers and looking at each other in bewilderment at their location. 

Engie let out a quick sputtering yelp, reaching for the back of his neck, only to then rub it in confusion. “What in Sam Hill?” 

“... mrghfrr mhph,” answered an equally confused Pyro. They touched their head, remembering how it felt when it had last been caved in.

Some weird noises were also coming from Demo’s and Soldier’s general directions. The others must have been quieter while waking up, which was to be expected from Sniper and Spy, and less so for Scout: the death by backstab must’ve gotten to him.

All around them a sea of steel and crackling wires surged, and sputtering engines faintly whirred weak cries before dying a quiet death. 

Watching the battle, Heavy grinned; now they were the ones coming out on top! But at that moment, the lack of constant berating suddenly struck him-- where was Medic?

Heavy’s gaze sweeped the area, pinpointing a lump on the ground in the middle of the metallic slaughter. Carcasses of cold steel, reduced to tatters and scrap, piled high in a sea of carnage. At the centre laid Medic, unconscious, his head lolled to the side. It would have been a terrifying sight if Heavy wasn’t so worried about him. 

Lying on the ground unconscious, Medic didn’t look like the god he had proven to be… he just looked human.

Somehow, Heavy put one foot in front of the other until he was able to kneel next to the German and slowly pick him up.

Like blacking out, he did not remember the journey back; only that he had picked up Medic, and now stood inside the infirmary.

Gently, he laid the doctor on the closest infirmary bed, like how he put Sasha to sleep.

Sasha.

Her name leaving his mouth melted into the blur of the next moment; shuffles of bedsheets and something scraping on the tiles, and she appeared next to him, a jet black sheen in the sparse rays of moonlight.

Amorphous voices hovered around him. 

"Uhh... hello, ma'am... this is the Engineer speaking from… uh... from Team Fortress, assigned to Mannworks, just checking in...?"
“Rest easy, mate, we got you both.”
“For once I’ll agree with the bushman, stop worrying and go to sleep.”
"How's a bloody sleepwalker gonna defend our proud nation?"
"See, this base is secure, but we just barely won. Hell, we're running out of food. Ammo especially. We need more supplies."
“Hey! I found your gun dude! You better thank me when you wake up!”
“Uh hrrlpd crrhy sushuh frr mfph!”
“Aye, have a lie down, lad. We’ll handle it from here.”
“Oh, and... you may want to send a repair crew down. Nothing else to report. Engineer out.”

With his weapon and his friends at his side, he finally drifted into a dreamless sleep.

Earlier that evening

Miss Pauling dusted off her skirt and fixed her glasses once more. She stared down at the cup of coffee, remembering the mantra: "Darker than my soul, no sugar, and never let it out of your sight!" She mustered up the courage to grab it and headed for the control room.

The evening had started well with the new robot attack at the Mannworks mountain base, after weeks of preparation, gathering intel on Gray and scheming the perfect trap.

The first part was to cut all supplies running to their post, knowing full-well the mercenaries were either too stupid or too loyal to abandon it.

Their second was to disable respawn; whoever would die would stay dead, hopefully whittling their numbers to eventually none. And it had to be done inconspicuously in the thick of battle, hoping that pesky Engineer would have no time to fix or even notice it. 

Lastly, the group of operators Pauling led had planted explosives in a passageway under the buildings; deep enough to evade the bomb's explosions (should it be delivered), but spread out enough to reduce the entire base to rubble when Gray's army of robots would arrive.

A brilliant plan, really. Foolproof. The Administrator, along with a panel of strategists, had closely studied it, and so did Pauling. Or, rather, much less the planning and more the legwork.

Like losing one of your rooks, the Mannworks gambit was ultimately losing a battle to win the war.

Or, to be more precise, would have led to winning the war. Because apparently the mercenaries of Mannworks had other plans that night. 

At first everything had gone smoothly.
The Administrator barked into the PA system as the surveillance operators rattled off their reports.
“Team Fortress is holding on, but just barely ma’am! They’re running out of ammunition!”
The room's many screens linked to the myriad of cameras at Mannworks, telling of the mercs' every move. 

“Miss Pauling.”
“Y-yes ma’am!” she answered, startled.

“Moving the analysts, in hindsight, was a better idea than I first thought. I no longer have to wait so long for the recordings to be ready just so I can see the reports. Also... I believe it could be good for morale.” 

The expression of disgust on the Administrator’s face soured the sentiment but it was nice to hear the praise nonetheless. Truly, she never expected for the 'little people' to join her at the control room.

And the analysts truly were having the time of their lives, used as they were to getting the recordings only after the Administrator had rewatched them, essentially making their work useless.
“Thank you, ma’am!”

During the first downtime between the waves, the interns at the back were betting on which merc would be the first to die… permanently.

"Betting 40 on that Soldier dude. God's sake, he blast jumps . Guy was lucky not to have blown his legs off before he even joined Mann Co!"
"That moron with the baseball cap is half-asleep! What's he doing, huh? I'm putting in 20 more bucks."
"Scout. Hah! The Demoman is absolutely going to go first. I mean, half-asleep? Try blind-drunk! He's going to detonate his traps while he's standing in the middle of them. Tonight's definitely his night."
“I’m putting 50 on the Engineer.”
"Losing odds, man. That's not just 'the Engineer', that's Dell Conagher ."
“Well, who knows, maybe a Conagher can have a bad day too.”
"You know, sending him to the slaughterhouse kinda looks like a waste, yeah? But he seems really attached to his team, and keeping up appearances for Gray is important 'n' all that."

“What about their doctor? He’s pretty smart, but forgets himself when it comes to the others. 30 bucks.”

“So, Soldier, Scout, Demoman, Engineer, or Medic. I’m so excited for the second wave! May the worst man die first! Oh crap, she's looking right at us! Go!”

The Administrator glared at the rowdy subordinates rushing back to their stations before announcing: "The robots arrive in three... 
“Two... 
“ One! "

At that moment, Pauling discovered this plan was in fact, not foolproof. 

At the dawn of the second wave, the team were carefully rationing their ammo. Even with respawn sabotaged, all nine of them were still standing.

"Something's wrong with Medic's tracker!" alerted a GPS analyst.
“He’s popping up everywhere on the map! He's- he's going to every spot indicated but we can’t catch the movements in between? He’s just… in one place, then another!”

"A sentry buster arrived! This must be go- ... erm, it went down," an analyst coughed. "Ah, but Heavy and Demoman are dead! And it looks like- no, OK. That Medic revived them with a Reanimator. Stupid bloody things, we should've gotten rid of them."

The screens flickered between the view of Mannworks and static.

At that point, a fuming Administrator had sent (read: shouted at) Pauling to get her a coffee. 

I hope the situation will have calmed down when I get back in there, she thought.

Even after setting the team up for failure, she couldn't bring herself to wish them death. She had been their manager for years.

Her musings stopped at the door to the control room, and, reaching for the door handle-

“I can’t take it anymore!” the door swung open along with the cry of a distraught, teary-eyed analyst, storming past her and down the hallway.

She arched a brow. That does not bode well, she thought.

Entering the control room revealed that she was right. The employees had strewn themselves about the control room, anguished and distraught. The Administrator gritted her teeth, seated in front of the microphone. Pauling looked to where the Administrator was staring, and only saw static across every panel. 

According to Vitals, the only thing still working... everyone was alive. Everyone. Even in spite of respawn stopping. It shocked her. How? How was this ragtag team of mercenaries doing it?

The backup generator announced itself with the shine of a red light. With the power returning, it meant that the emergency radio devices connected to it were booting up.

The room went silent. The analysts huddled together among the vitals and GPS systems, maybe finding in their numbers some kind of solace from the Administrator's murderous glare, when the clear audio from the Mannworks bomb hatch area finally cut through the static.  

"I WILL CRUSH BABY ROBOTS WITH BARE HANDS ! YAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The Heavy. His battle cry was followed by the sounds of a brawl, and all the room’s occupants held their breath as they listened to the fight going down. 

Metallic clangs, bangs and cracks, soon enough followed by calls for Medic, the sound of bones crunching, flesh splitting, and one of the Vitals screens flatlined. One by one, they all went down, until only the Heavy, and surprisingly, the Medic himself, were left. A quiet murmur preceded the Russian’s confirmed demise, but then what could only be described as an inhuman, primal cry rang through the control room, distorted by the low quality microphones of the backup audio system.

What followed, Pauling couldn’t describe even if she wanted to. Howls, shrieks, rattles of metal and cracks of electricity intermingled with a wholly indescribable echoing voice, and imagery of iron being bent like twigs and torn like paper painted themselves in the woman’s mind.

One final explosion-like blast resounded - and the room fell into silence.

The vitals system beeped. Once. Twice. Thrice. Eight times, she counted.

A thud.

The rustle of clothes.

The shuffling of feet.

“What in Sam Hill?” in a heavy Texan accent.

And all hell broke loose in the control room.

The following morning

Miss Pauling yawned once, then again, just for good measure.

No, that second time wasn't her body deciding to. That was on her own accord. Her decision.

The moped droned on along the road to Mannworks.

She had left as soon as possible in order to cover the considerable distance between HQ and the base, urgently needing to reach the scene.

With the fiasco at Mannworks, last night had been a tour de force of consoling desperate employees and calming down a very murderous Administrator before leaving the Headquarters in a hurry the moment she got her new orders. Just like that, months of planning were thrown out the window; gone in just a few hours, and adequate response measures had to be defined on the fly.

Not because they hadn't foreseen this and therefore made a plan B in advance, but rather… What was it? It had felt so unlikely that the immaculate scheme of plan A would fail that they had never worked out plan B.

Whatever. All that Pauling had left to do was contained in a folder marked as 'CLASSIFIED', containing a single sheet of paper:

Then, added in the Administrator’s scrawly italics:

The backside was a hastily-sketched map of Mannworks. Certain areas were marked with red crosses.

I should ask for overtime, she thought, the tall buildings slowly coming into view. If nothing else, her frequent dynamite-planting expeditions taught her how to reach the normally well-hidden base.

Deciding to at least let the mercenaries get the sleep she was sorely missing, she parked her scooter under the abandoned mothership and made her way into the battleground. With the rising sun heralding a beautiful day and her pen and clipboard in hand, she started her investigation.

What was most pressing to find out was how Gray had so badly disrupted the surveillance. Next, she'd ask Medic how he had healed his team without a Medi Gun; something seen only in the few recordings that weren't tainted with static.

Walking through the abandoned battleground, she saw the sun highlight the aftermath of their battle. Scorch marks, scratches decorating the walls, bullet casings strewn across the ground. Bodies of robots lined Mannworks' labyrinthine alleys, thrown to the sides to make way for the bomb carriers.

Glass from broken windows and lightbulbs crunched under her every step, growing louder as she got closer to the first marked spot on her map: the EMP epicenter. A sense of dread filled her mind and anxiety flooded her gut; worry lacing her thoughts. It put hesitation in her walk and her hackles on end. A flash of days long gone renewed itself in her mind, a memory of a childhood’s summer in the mountains, of recklessness and getting caught in bad weather, of hairs standing up before sky-splitting lightning strikes a pine tree on the next hill over, and thunder roars, shaking her very soul.

The air became heavy with that indescribable energy, and a renewed sense of dread crept up her arms, instilling a cold fright in her. She hugged her clipboard to her chest. The day was cloudless. Deep blue and clear. And yet, she felt like the sun mocked her.

A bolt? From the blue? No, I'm just- I'm just imagining things. The forecasts say nothing but sunshine.

The feeling only rang stronger in her head until she reached the mark. This spot... it was supposedly the epicentre of Gray's EMP. Searching the barren area, Pauling found only the feelings in her gut; nothing to help her. No clues, no traces, not so much as a mark on the earth. Nothing.

Sighing in defeat, she dusted bits of metal scraps and dirt into tiny forensics bags for further analysis. Feeling irked by the inconclusive search, she hurriedly left, chased by the broken glass crunching under her heels. She wanted nothing more than to go to her next destination.

Breathing in the crisp morning air, she tried to leave the dread behind. She took the path to the bomb hatch, feeling more optimistic about the presence of more useful clues there. 

And when she rounded the corner, those thoughts immediately escaped her.

Carnage. Absolute carnage. A sight beyond what thoughts could describe. The husks of dead robots and the smell of burnt money. 

Metal bent in ways that looked like contemporary art. Torn apart. In places shattered like glass. In others melted like lava.

Whoever… no, whatever had caused this - it wasn't human. No man was capable of this destruction. Breathe deeper , she thought, her hands trembling. Breathe. Breathe. Be calm. It's OK , she told herself, but it all fell short. No words could shake off the terror that froze her. She didn't know what this was. Trying to fall asleep that night wasn’t going to be fun. 

Her mind, struggling to process this, pieced together all the bits of discipline the Administrator had instilled in her. She put on her best poker face and started walking towards the mercenaries’ barracks, where she'd find the first part of her assignment.

“Oh, hey Miss Pauling! Fancy seein’ ya here!”

I’m definitely asking for overtime.

Engie slowly closed the infirmary door, careful not to disturb the occupants. The stress of Medic's duties was on him, now.

Heavy and Medic are probably safe here , thought Engie. By their snoring, he'd decided that they just needed a well-deserved rest.

To recharge their batteries , he thought. He still worried for them, though, knowing that eleven science PhDs wouldn’t translate to much tangible medical knowledge. 

Leaving the infirmary, he began tiptoeing down the hall, excited at the thought of breakfast after a night of little sleep and mostly reliving the day's battle over and over again.

I could've avoided this! I should've been checking respawn! Why didn't I check that damn thing? Why didn't I notice--

"Oi, Engie, mate, want some coffee?" interjected Sniper.

"Oh... thank y'kindly." He gladly accepted the mug, hoping it would wash away his loud thoughts. "Careful, mate, it's hot," continued the bushman, but Engie had already downed a few mouthfuls, his throat scorching.

The team was unusually late for breakfast, piling in long after the sunrise. Spy, Demo, Soldier and Pyro were sitting on the benches surrounding the dinner table, and Sniper leaned against the kitchen counter, waiting for his coffee to brew. Scout was missing; Engie figured he'd either be still sleeping or already up and running about. He joined Sniper by the counter, anxiety tugging him away from sitting down.

" So. How is our dynamic duo holding up?” Spy asked, primly lowering his tiny cup of espresso. Hang on. We only have vaguely-bitter-wake-up-juice branded as coffee. Where'd he get that?

He pushed that thought aside. "Not bad; Heavy woke up for a moment at five, but otherwise they're both still sleeping. They look fine." 

"Dynamic duo!?" Soldier jumped from his seat. "I love referencing great American comics!"

"Wot? Who's who, then?" mused Sniper, swirling his coffee.

“ What? ”
"Y'know! Heavy an' Medic, Batman 'n' Robin. Who's who?"

"Oh, ahh know... Heavy... he's Batman, 'coz he's, ya know... big an-" Demo burped, "-strong. Medic, ohh, Medic is Robin," he waved his finger, "he's 'is sidekick , aye?"

"Negatory! Medic has all the gadgets so that makes him Batman!" shouted Soldier.

"Uphin muddin hudduh bbuhmn dunmphs," Pyro decided, caught in the middle.

"Aye lad, ye said it,” Demo gestured to Pyro with his bottle, before taking another swig.

“No way!”

“Yes way, Soldier-boy!”

Demo and Soldier stared each other down from either side of the long table, while Pyro watched excitedly from their seat in the middle.

"Yeah... mate, I'm with Soldier here." Sniper broke the silence and immediately felt the room's focus shift to him and his coffee, which he nervously took a sip of.

"... Aye. Fair enough," and Demo slumped back down for a moment. 

"Hang on! It's wrong both ways! Batman an' Robin are just two lads, and Medic... well, Medic's a bloody, I don't know… He's got superpowers! He can fly! He's..." he burped, "a god," and he took another swig.

The room then fell silent. Engineer's vivid recollection of the battle resurfaced.  

"From what little I've seen, I have to wonder why he never disclosed such a... Who knows. Gift?" Spy finally mused, looking to the coffee grounds in his cup for answers.

The murmur of a group hmmm filled the kitchen. 

"Roight, was he hidin' it? Did we just... never pick up on it?" quizzed Sniper. He turned his back on them to pour his coffee.

Engie, offering his cup for a refill, faltered for a moment. "Uhm, well… the prototype Medi Gun let him fly around with Demo an' Soldier. At the time, we thought the Medi Gun was just like that . But now... I think that was him."

The room buzzed with more thoughts, until Soldier sprung up like a jack-in-the-box. 

"THIS IS GREAT  NEWS!” he exclaimed. “A NEW WEAPON! ONE MORE POWERFUL THAN ANYTHING!” He shook his fist. “We will win ANY battle!"

Demo cheered and Pyro clapped happily. Sniper glared daggers at Soldier, whose booming voice had almost made him drop the pot of boiling coffee.

"Mate probably kept it secret for a reason," he grumbled, gently placing down the Mann Co. Bean-Juice Retainer™.

"Huh?" voiced Soldier.

"Well if he's been 'ere for six years and we didn't know, that's gotta say something ."

"If I may add, mes amies, I read the files they had on you-" 

"You what?! " 

"Bloody hell! That's shonky business , mate!"

"You looked through classified documents ?"

"Please, now is not the time. My point is, they knew next to nothing about the doctor, and they hired him anyway because they were desperate for mercenaries."

"What did they know?"

"Name, age, country of origin, class and field of expertise. It ends there. Not even qualifications."

That raised some eyebrows in the room. 

"That aside, he's obviously not in good shape after overusing his powers, god or not," Engie said with a frown.

"So... he's not omnipotent," Spy added. 

"I dunno. Before he fainted, he told me he's a god, and shucks , I wanted to think it was delirium talking. So I pat him down, thinking there'd be some kind of gadgets, anything, but I found nothing. Zilch. Something supernatural is goin' on."

Spy nodded, his gaze not quite meeting Engie, but the wall behind him. He was absent.

"Whatever happens, though, I believe we should keep it a secret," he concluded.

Soldier's head whipped around to face Spy, his face wrinkled in hurt and his mouth slightly open in shock, ready to form a retort. Spy raised a hand.

"To have a secret weapon against Gray... one that not even the Administrator knows about... wouldn't that be a good position to be in? If I was able to find those 'classified' documents with such little effort... what's stopping Gray?"

Realization dawned on them all. 

With an unsaid agreement, everyone began shuffling around the kitchen to finish up as Demo walked to the sink full of dirty dishes. A voice sounded from the hallway, above the sound of footsteps and plates clinking.

“...so I woke up early to get the leftover money. Might've been a bit singed but hey! It’s still money.”
“Uh… sure.”
"Anyway, what moron decides to fuel their robots with money ? Heh, uhh, not like I'm complainin’." Two people entered the kitchen. "Hey guys, look! It's Miss Pauling!"

The woman nodded. "Team Fortress," she announced, fixing her glasses. She received tired mumbles for replies.

The team shuffled back to their seats, seemingly snapping out of their spells of tiredness and looking at Pauling attentively.

She cleared her throat, recollecting herself.

"First of all," she began, " congratulations on behalf of the Administrator and Mann Co. for holding out during last night's waves. Great job, team!" she clapped her hands together, offering a brief, happy smile. Her gaze swept the room to find puzzlement, and a distinctive lack of their Heavy and Medic.

"Wait, where are Heavy and Medic?"
"... Ah. See, they're out cold." Engie scratched his head. "They were both very tired after the battle. I'm sure they'll wake up soon."

"Oh," she replied flatly. "Well, did you notice anything..." she paused, " weird ... yesterday? Kind of important."

Soldier barged in. "MEDIC! MEDIC IS A--"

And the word stopped in his throat. He caught the burning stares of everyone who knew, and then decided against finishing the sentence, so he settled down.

Pauling, awaiting what he would say, tilted her head.
“He’s a what?”
"He's a... umm..." he looked around the room for ideas, then back to the woman. "He's... a sissy who can't stand a battle without fainting! Heavy too!” he boisterously declared. 

The room breathed a sigh of relief, which bemused Scout and Miss Pauling, who were equally unaware.

Spy wormed his way into the conversation. “He is a valuable team member who was pushed to his limits. Some kind of bomb detonated yesterday, mid-battle, and the Medi Gun was faltering. I am sure you are aware of our circumstances?” A subtle dig at the recent terrible chain of supply.

Miss Pauling nodded. “Yes. I apologize for our lack of resupplies. That was... a mishap on our end. And that EMP? Also an unexpected occurrence. On the bright side, you all made it through!"

Spy stared at her intently, then looked to Engie, seeking any similar thoughts.

“Those are the circumstances that Medic had to fight through. With respawn offline, that was more work than he'd ever done to keep us alive. Letting him rest is the least we can do to repay him," asserted Engie. The discussion ended there.

Rather, it would have. Apparently not to Scout, who opened his duffel bag, and said "Medic? He's still out? He’s-”

Pauling's knife of a glare snapped to him, and he quickly realized that everyone was staring at him, mostly in disapproval. Engie put a finger to his mouth. Shush! he mouthed. Spy glared at him with wide eyes.

“He’s… actually very scary. Like... woah when he’s mad! Have I ever mentioned that?” he laughed nervously. 

Pauling’s eyebrows fell, but she still nodded. "... Yeah... I think he can be scary too. Maybe even a bit sadistic. Sometimes, I think he's hiding something. Well, I mean everyone is, but he gives me a different impression." 

They exchanged concerned looks among each other, then Scout approached the table and dumped the fruits of his search on it.

Shrugging, Pauling was ready to finish her impromptu reunion- and then it struck her. "Oh! By the way guys, you'll be moving posts soon, about an hour south from here. Expect a messenger in the next couple days or so. And, remember, please don't shoot them."
Her bespectacled eyes looked pointedly at Soldier, who grunted in faux innocence.

She sighed in resignation, took a couple more notes on her clipboard, then shut it. “I should get going; the Administrator wants me back before sundown. Umm, really quickly- do you guys know how Medic healed everyone without, well, a Medi Gun?" she asked, less professionally and more 'Please Help a Friend Out'.

Engie chuckled. “Heck if I know. We were just as shocked when he did that."
Spy nodded in agreement, which everyone else followed suit.

“Well, it was worth a try,” Miss Pauling said, defeatedly. “Anyway, it's time for me to take my leave. Take care, Team Fortress. See you soon!”

A chorus of 'you too' met her as she turned to leave.
“Oh wait, Miss Pauling! Let me walk you back!"

If Engie caught a muttered “overtime” escaping from the woman’s lips, he didn’t say anything to their chatterbox of a Scout, especially when he came back from seeing her off with a smile so big you might have thought it was early Smissmas.

The Administrator turned in her swivel chair, clasping a manila folder with an inexplicable look in her eyes.

“Get your bags, Miss Pauling. You’re flying out to Germany tomorrow.”