Dagger's POV:
Fusionator's order echoed across the wrecked street.
"Surrender immediately."
The name was familiar to me. Fusionator. Although his abilities and origins were still unknown. But right now, although his name meant nothing to me, the weight behind the voice did.
Smoke curled from the crashed convoy, as glass littered the asphalt.
Sirens wailed, closer now. Civilians screamed through the chaos, scattering like startled birds.
Fusionator stood at the center of the street, reactor glowing a bright, threatening blue through armor plates that hummed with restrained power. Heavily reinforced. My first impression of him was that he was built like Overwatch decided Reinhardt didn't hit hard enough.
He lifted his gauntlet and blue energy rippled around it.
"Final warning."
I rolled my injured shoulder. In seconds, with a loud snap, my arm was back in one piece.
I stepped slightly to the side, ensuring the Curator stayed within my peripheral vision. He was dazed, leaning against the remains of his convoy vehicle, but alive.
"Don't know why you bothered issuing it. Both of us know I'm not going to simply give up."
He reacted instantly.
A shield of hard-blue energy exploded outward from his gauntlet, the force of it blowing ash and dust into the air. I darted around the perimeter, dodging the expanding shockwave. The moment his shield dissipated, he lunged forward with surprising speed for a tank.
He slammed into the ground where I'd been a split second earlier. Pavement cracked like a dropped plate. Cars rocked violently from the shockwave. He was powerful.
I slipped behind him, blade flashing toward a joint in his armor, but his fusion core pulsed, projecting a concussive blast that forced me back.
He straightened.
"You're fast," he said, visor tracking me. "Too fast for a normal Talon grunt."
Not good. He scanned me, visor flickering.
"How are you physically strong enough to dent that engine block? Talon doesn't field soldiers at that level. So what are you?"
My fingers twitched. He had no idea that I was like him, an Overwatch agent. Only I was undercover. That being the case, I couldn't fight like I normally do. I hadn't expected him to be smart enough to notice the small details and ask the right questions.
I could see how I could end him, if he was an actual enemy and I wasn't under Adawe's conditions. If I was Shawn. But I couldn't risk anyone making that connection. Definitely not here in the streets of New York or now when I was just gaining the ranks of Talon.
So I gave him something else.
I lifted my left arm slowly, my mask changing my voice into something mechanical, detached. Then I flexed the fingers of the metal prosthetic.
"You noticed huh?" I said. "I'm cybernetically augmented."
Fusionator froze.
"All of me," I added. "Spine to fingertips."
A lie. Only my left arm was enhanced. But it was enough of a lie to fill the gaps. Enough to explain the speed. Enough to explain the strength. Enough to keep Shawn separate from Dagger.
Fusionator processed this.
"…Overwatch hasn't seen a full-body augmentation at your level outside black-budget military vaults," he said. "Which means Talon is months ahead of our predictions."
His gauntlet charged again. "And that means I can't let you leave."
He threw a punch, more accurately, a concussive blast that sped towards me. I sidestepped the blow, but the shockwave clipped me, sending me sliding across broken asphalt. My feet dug in, grinding to a stop. The next moment, Fusionator was already on me, slamming his armored forearm down like a hammer.
I raised my metal arm to block. Out of instinct. From his size and earlier shows of power, I should have known better and dodged that too.
The impact rattled the bones in my shoulder. My vision flared white. But I held. I've faced worse and didn't fold then either.
Fusionator pulled back, impressed despite himself.
"You're strong," he said. "But not invincible."
He cocked his fist back. His reactor surged.
"Shockwave Charge."
He launched forward.
I ducked, letting the punch destroy the sedan behind me. Metal crumpled inward like paper, the entire vehicle flipping from the force. Fusionator pivoted quickly, surprisingly agile for someone built like a walking tank. I dodged again, staying close to the ground, letting debris rain around me. He kept pressing.
It was then I realized, he wasn't trying to kill me....
He was trying to capture me. A problem.
No doubt getting captured would lead to complications that I've rather not deal with. I couldn't risk that.
As Fusionator advanced, sirens multiplied. NYPD cruisers screeched into the perimeter. Officers began evacuating civilians, herding them behind barriers, shouting commands. And among those civilians....
The Curator. Two officers dragged him toward an ambulance, clearing him despite the wreckage. He was slipping away. Damn it.
Fusionator noticed my gaze. He turned his head slightly, visor narrowing. "You're not harming anyone or taking any hostages. I won't let you." he said.
I ignored him and shifted my stance. Not to attack him, but to move around him. Fusionator misread it.
He swung and I ducked under the blow and darted sideways. I couldn't fight Fusionator at full capacity without revealing Shawn's abilities. I couldn't kill him or wouldn't try to cripple him either as we were still on the same team.
Too many variables. Too many observers. Too much risk. Retreat became the only logical answer.
Fusionator seemed to realize it a half second too late.
"You're running?" he barked. "Talon doesn't run!"
"I'm not Talon's stereotype," I replied.
I feinted left. He lunged that direction. I dashed right and vaulted over a crashed SUV, moving into the shadowed alley beyond the wreckage line.
Fusionator roared:
"STOP!"
A concussive wave tore the air behind me, close enough to lift dust, shake my coat, make my bones buzz. But not close enough to catch me. I disappeared around the corner, boots hitting pavement despite the pain radiating with each step.
Fusionator didn't give chase because he couldn't. He wasn't built for tight alleys. His armor was too heavy for narrow chases. He was a fortress, not a ghost. I was the opposite.
Behind me, his amplified voice boomed through the streets:
"ALL UNITS—LOCK DOWN THE AREA! DAGGER IS ATTEMPTING TO ESCAPE!"
He was wrong. I've already escaped. There was no way anyone was going to catch me now that I had the advantage.
I slipped deeper into the shadows as Fusionator's steps thundered after me, shaking the pavement. The hunt continued, because the officers didn't realize what I was after and didn't take the Curator into custody. He wasn't going into Overwatch's hands, which meant that he was still free game.