A half-formed miniature robot floated in the air above Amit Kapadia’s crowded workstation, drawn into existence as a hard-light duplicate of the simple toy being scanned by his prototype invention. There was still magic in witnessing this process, even after years of development and thousands of trials, and Amit lamented that his Director still refused to see the potential held by his Hard Light Replicator. The ability to use hard-light for more than just architecture and defense applications, but to instead construct literally anything could change the world! If only he could - how long had that alert been on his data visor? Amit swallowed when he saw it was from his Director.
“Dr. Satya Vaswani will be arriving shortly with a number of scientists from Overwatch. Prep the HLR for demonstration.”
“Amit? Amit!?” He was slow to react to the increasingly urgent voice, still reeling from this message. The mysterious Doctor Vaswani? And Overwatch? Arriving now?! “Amit!!” It wasn’t the voice that finally pulled him from his thoughts, but rather the swell of harmonic energy emanating from the partially formed robot floating before him. The unstable hard-light construct fizzled out in a flash of energy and crackling blue vapor. He sheepishly turned to see his diminutive colleague Deepa standing beside him, staring in wide-eyed admonishment. “Where is your head, Amit!?” she demanded. “And if I might add, you don’t look so good.”
“Overwatch wants to see the Replicator.” He surprised himself with how quiet his voice was, but when he tried to speak up, his words cracked. “And they’re almost here.”
Deepa’s dark eyes grew even wider, and he braced for a tirade about how such limited notice could only mean the Director was setting them up to fail. “This is fantastic news!” she cheered, and Amit had to remind himself who he was talking to. “If we have Overwatch’s interest, they must see its potential as a weapon against the dastardly omnics!” Amit found Deepa a curious partner in developing the HLR: relentlessly encouraging, arriving at Vishkar and providing stunning insights just when he had been ready to scuttle the whole thing. But she also had an incredible naivete, struggling with some the most basic concepts of hard-light engineering… it often made him wonder how she had gotten through the interview process. She also never missed an opportunity to vent her hatred of anything with even a semblance of artificial intelligence, her fist-shaking vitriol seeming straight out of a high school stage play.
Amit always wanted to probe her about her past to discover what motivated her, but never dared to take any action that would threaten their professional relationship – the HLR project was what mattered, and he was afraid that anything opening a door to something less formal could jeopardize everything they had worked so hard for.
The lab trembled briefly as an Orca transport swung past the tinted glass, maneuvering toward the nearby landing pad. Deepa rushed to the window, tapping on her data visor’s magnification as the large aircraft touched down. Amit joined her, his visor-enhanced sight spotting Director Khanna fidgeting nervously while the craft’s passenger doors opened.
Out stepped the tall figure of Dr. Vaswani, dressed in a sensually snug teal dress accented in gold, cut high enough to reveal a great portion of her caramel hips. Black stockings rising to mid-thigh heightened the outfit’s salacious appeal, and the doctor’s hip-swaying saunter and smug expression across her stunning features suggested she knew precisely the effect this was having upon the already nervous Director. Amit also noticed her left arm was now a pristine white prosthetic, the glowing light in its palm hinting at a micronized hard-light forge.
Following her was a figure who provided a marked contrast to the tall, elegant Vaswani. A full head shorter and bearing a more robust figure bundled in a thick parka despite the day’s hot sun, Dr. Mei-Ling Zhou almost tripped in her heavy winter boots when exiting the craft, her hands only just catching some sort of gun-like device that exuded an icy mist. She adjusted the glasses on her round, pretty face, and gave an embarrassed grimace to the blonde woman behind her.
Amit immediately recognized Dr. Angela Ziegler. Many had questioned the brilliant doctor’s motivations behind her carefully cultivated image, from the angel-like wings of her gravity-harness to a sensor array styled as a literal golden halo atop her head, even the adoption of the callsign ‘Mercy’. He could believe the rumors she had a darker, self-aggrandizing side – but seeing her respond to Dr. Zhou with a beatific smile that radiated beauty and sympathy, he struggled to see her as anything but a benevolent angel.
The door to the craft began to close, a blur of motion zipping out just before the hull was sealed. The streak of light resolved into a perky, athletic woman with tousled brown hair, bouncing with energy. Amit knew her as Tracer, a former test pilot whose accident with an experimental aircraft had unmoored her from time itself. The glowing harness she wore on her chest and back not only anchored her temporally, but gave her the ability to move in short bursts between her immediate past, present, and future. Amit was embarrassed to admit that upon seeing this living case study of quantum mechanics and relativity, his thoughts focused more on how her pert backside lived up to its reputation, stunningly presented in her skin-tight blazing orange leggings.
“Doesn’t it seem just a bit unfair that the most brilliant women in Overwatch are also ridiculously attractive?” Deepa sighed, watching Director Khanna make his fumbling introductions to the team.
Amit found the complaint absurd coming from her – she may have been on the shorter side, but her curves turned many heads at Vishkar, and Amit had to actively bend his focus toward his research whenever she glanced at him in her particular way, head cocked, her dark brown eyes searching his face, the corner of her soft lips turning into a playful smile...
“Oh my god, you need to stop thinking about those women and get your head straight!” Deepa exclaimed, snapping him back to the present once more. She bustled the two of them into the neighboring lab, snapping on the lights and making a desperate attempt to get the wire-and-component strewn chamber presentable for their guests, shoving various test electronics and their hard light duplicates into corners. When stepping past the 3 meter tall upright cylinder of the HLR scanner at the center of the room, she activated the system with a casual slap of its main power button, the experimental machine thrumming with energy.
Amit hurried to a terminal to revert to the last stable build of the HLR’s complex suite of control programs, wanting to avoid the unstable and potentially explosive results he and Deepa had seen with their latest experiments. The main lab door opened, Director Khanna stammering through a litany of his organization’s other projects they might be interested in, while the far more collected Dr. Vaswani ignored him and strode confidently toward the machine. “You are Amit Kapadia,” she stated, not taking her amber eyes off of the humming replicator, her perfect silken black hair spilling past her shoulders, sliding off the shimmering teal and gold of her dress.
“Yes?” Amit responded, somehow sounding more uncertain than she was about his identity. “It is an honor to meet you, Doctor Vas-“
“Symmetra,” she responded, her teal data visor lighting up with the results of some analysis as she scanned the HLR. A callsign, it would seem – just what was her role at Vishkar anymore?
“This system of yours is a remarkable achievement!” Dr. Zeigler commended with a trace of a Swiss accent, her blue eyes sparkling as she favored Amit with an encouraging smile. He could feel his knees ready to buckle as he tried to formulate a response. How was it that any of them even knew about the HLR? He had never heard Director Khanna espouse anything but skepticism of his and Deepa’s work.
As if on cue, the Director stepped forward, clearly annoyed by the lack of respect Dr. Vaswani – Symmetra – was showing him, especially when she was technically his subordinate. “I’m afraid I must temper your expectations, ladies,” he began, earning an unnoticed eyeroll from Mercy. “Mr. Kapadia has only been able to replicate the most rudimentary electronics and simple machines. It is an interesting parlor trick, but I fear It is unlikely to have any real world application-“
“Do you even read the reports I send you?” Deepa interrupted, her eyes blazing – Amit was taken aback, immediately trying to think of a way to excuse her sudden impertinence to the man who could end her career with a keystroke, but came up with nothing before she barreled on. “We have advanced well beyond those early trials! Do you honestly think Overwatch would be here if we were still just replicating toasters?”
The Director mastered himself, but only just, clearly fuming at this insubordination. Amit cleared his throat, offering a quiet, “Perhaps a demonstration of what the HLR is now capable of would be in order?”
“Yes, I should think so,” Symmetra said in a low voice, turning on her heel to face Dr. Zhou. “Mei?”
“Yes?” she responded cheerfully, looking up from one of Deepa’s aforementioned experiments, a toaster replicated in hard light. She set it back down on the teetering stack of identical copies, only to have them collapse in a noisy avalanche. “Sorry…I’m sorry!” she muttered quietly, flinching at the unending clatter.
Symmetra patiently waited for the mess to settle before stating, “Step into replicator.”
Amit blinked in confusion as to what her intentions could be, but the Director immediately cut in to underline the prototype’s limitations. “I hope you’re not thinking to make a hard-light clone of Dr. Zhou! Ethical implications aside, the HLR cannot replicate organic material-“
“I am well aware, Director,” Symmetra responded curtly, watching as Mei plodded toward the machine, her heavy boots clumping against the floor. Apart from her footsteps and the ambient hum of the lab’s electronics, Amit was certain he could hear another sound as she passed by, the faint whirring of servos…
Amit caught Deepa’s eyes across the room and saw them widen in fear at the same impossible realization. Director Khanna seemed far more focused on this latest showing of disrespect, approaching Symmetra and declaring. “Alright, I think it’s time you explained to me exactly what you are doing here. Clearly you have been misled by someone-“
Symmetra extended her prosthetic arm toward the advancing director, a shimmering wall of hard-light emanating from her palm. The hard light barrier carried the Director into the wall with tremendous force, then dissolved as his body fell limply to the floor.
“Must violence always be the solution?” Mercy sighed, pointing her staff at the director. A healing stream of biotics flowed from the device’s tip to envelop his prone form.
“Kindly ignore your personality programming for the sake of our objective?” Symmetra growled, and Mercy pulled the staff away, the golden field dissipating as Mercy gave a slight frown. Tapping on her visor, Symmetra asked, “Tracer, where are we with security? Tracer!?”
A blur zipped in through the door and suddenly Tracer’s lithe form was standing there, wearing a pixie-ish grin. “The floor is being evacuated and the security has been sorted!” she chirped in what might have been a London accent. Amit noticed a cut across her outthrust hip, a tear in her orange leggings that exposed a bundle of wiring beneath, faint sparks visible within.
“You’re not Doctor Vaswani – you’re not even human!” Deepa exclaimed, backing away in horror. “You’re omnics!”
Symmetra made a number of graceful arcs with her prosthetic arm – behind Deepa, a chair of hard light materialized into existence, catching Deepa as she fell backward. Symmetra continued her balletic movements, binding Deepa to the chair in generated bands of glowing light.
“Ready when you are!” Mei exclaimed from within the replicator, giving a cheerful thumbs-up. Symmetra turned to Amit and purred, “Kindly activate the machine.”
He stepped away from the terminal. “No.” He did not know whether the HLR in its present state could replicate something as complex as an omnic, especially one that had been convincingly modeled as a human – but if it could, such a cheap and efficient means of production falling into the hands of the machines would undoubtedly mean the end of humanity.
“Consider the consequences of your decisions, Amit,” Symmetra mused in a polite tone, a gesture from her prosthesis drawing out a cry from Deepa as the bonds of light tightened
“Amit! Don’t do it!” Deepa gasped.
He took another step away from the terminal, but felt his resolve weakening. In all likelihood, these omnics are too complex for it to work, he told himself. But if it did fail, did he expect these omnics to simply walk away?
“Amit, you must also consider what could be yours if you assist us!” Mercy exclaimed, gently resting a gloved hand upon his shoulder. “Omnic and human minds, working together – who knows what we could achieve!“ Her voice took on a playful lilt when she added, quietly, “And from the measure of your pulse, I know our bodies hold some interest to you…”
On the terminal screen, Amit noticed that his restoration to a stable build had encountered an error – the HML would still be running an experimental branch that, according to their most recent testing, would result in an explosively unstable copy. “Very well,” he said, returning to the terminal.
“Watch him,” Symmetra barked.
Mercy took up a position behind him. “I’m right beside you!” she said quietly in what in any other context would have been sweet and encouraging – but he was now aware of the micro-servos buzzing to bring her lips into that reassuring smile.
Amit activated the Hard Light Replicator, glowing blue rings sliding up and down the cylinder as the Mei-bot giggled from within. Suddenly, the machine abruptly shut down, an error diagnostic flashing across the terminal screen. “Did I do something wrong?” Mei asked. Symmetra glowered at Amit, holding her prosthetic arm out toward Deepa, fingers poised.
“This isn’t going to work!” Amit explained, pointing to the error. “She’s too complex to replicate.”
“If I understand this output correctly,” the Mercy-bot remarked, “not by much!” Amit glanced at the screen – a log line gave an estimate that she was 89% scanned when the error occurred.
“Then we’ll make this simple!” Symmetra tutted. “Mei, please discard your external cryo-apparatus.” She set down the misting gun-like accessory and shrugged off the harness with its backpack of bubbling cryo-fluid, but before she could set it down, Symmetra added, “And your clothes as well.”
In a surprising display of human verisimilitude, the Mei-bot’s cheeks blushed crimson. “Oh my gosh! N-naked!?”
“Stop letting your personality programming interfere with the mission,” Symmetra snarled.
“B-but….” Mei began, reluctantly tugging at her thick gloves.
Symmetry sighed. “Keep your underclothes if you must!” Turning to Tracer and Mercy, she added, “Both of you as well.”
“No peeking!” the Tracer-bot chirped at Amit, casually sliding the tight leggings down her slender legs. “Could you lend me a hand?” Mercy asked from behind him, the back of her form-fitting armor to him. “When I release the catch, you just need to pull!“ Amit complied, noting that if nothing else, she would at least be less protected She pressed something on her breastplate, and the back section came free, exposing a body-hugging compression shirt beneath. She seemed amused by his instinctive reaction to stare at the swell of her spandex-clad breasts, doubly so when he forced himself to turn away. “I can take it from here, thank you,” she said primly, pulling up on the tight shirt.
Amit turned to see the Mei-bot had removed her boots and leggings, and was now struggling to pull off her parka in the confined space, her round, ample backside pressing against the cylinder’s translucent siding. “Quite the figure she’s hiding under all those layers!” Tracer chirped, now standing with her hands on her hips wearing only her sports bra and panties, re-strapping her time-stabilizing harness over her shoulders. Even when she was nearly naked she was impossible to mark as an omnic – save for the sparking tear in her thigh. “Like what you see, do you?” she asked, giving him a quick twirl. “Get this HLR thing working and you could replicate a few of me to have some fun with, eh love?”
Amit tried not to ponder the seriousness of such a suggestion, instead turning back to Mei who had one arm crossed over her pale, plump breasts slung in a simple white bra, the other crossed in front of her hip-hugging boy shorts, her thick thighs pressed together in knock-kneed embarrassment. “Ready…” she said uncertainly, her face still flush.
With a hard swallow, Amit activated the HLR once more. The Mei-bot’s voluptuous body was bathed in light, bright bands tracing her round contours as she fidgeted nervously. Almost immediately, a copy of the Mei bot was being constructed form the inside out – endoskeleton, with its pistons and joints, artificial musculature and cabling, power cells, processors – all created from hard light analogues of the Mei-bot’s internal components. He also noted an expansive cooling network, its reservoirs filling out the space afforded by the bot’s abundant curves. A shell of artificial skin enveloped the human-shaped electro-mechanical systems, topped off with the sudden appearance of her bra, shorts, hair, and glasses. Not ten seconds after it had started, a hard-light duplicate stood beside the original Mei-bot, mirroring her pose with crossed arms to provide a small measure of modesty.
“Oh my gosh!” the twin Meis exclaimed together, immediately losing their self-consciousness and slowly approaching each other. The hard-light Mei was distinguished by a glossy sheen characteristic of the material, but every detail was otherwise identical – her glasses, the red-tipped hair stick holding her bun in place, every hair in that bun, perfectly copied from its source.
The Mei-bot hesitantly reached a finger toward her hard-light counterpart, asking, “May I?”
“Of course you Mei!” the hard-light Mei cheered.
The Mei-bot grinned at the obvious pun and tentatively prodded hard-light Mei’s shoulder, the surface deforming just as skin might under her light touch.
“Mercy, please examine her,” Symmetra commanded, and the Mercy bot brushed past Amit with a whisper of servos, dressed only in lacy white bra and panties. She aimed her staff and a beam of blue energy shot from its tip into the hard light Mei, who shivered and then smiled. “That feels… nice!”
“She appears to be stable,” Mercy announced, glancing at a diagnostic projected above the staff. “Amit, you should be very proud of what you have accomplished here!”
Amit’s head was spinning, reeling from the revelations of the existence of human-like omnics and that the HLR was up to the task of replicating them – but a quick glance at the terminal revealed that already the copy was beginning to destabilize. His eyes met with Deepa’s, still bound to her chair, her expression pained. Amit gave her a small nod, hoping to convey she should be ready to act.
“Go on!” the hard-light Mei exclaimed to her twin with newfound courage, thrusting out her ample cleavage. “I know you’re curious!”
“Oh... OK!” the Mei-bot said, prodding the hard-light Mei’s breast. A tremble shot through the newly minted construct, eyes clenched, biting her lip until she finally erupted in a joyous cry of, “Ó, tài bàng le!”
“That was interesting…” Mercy muttered, checking the readout on her staff.
“So soft!” the Mei bot exclaimed, reaching out again, this time cupping a breast in each hand and administering a light squeeze. “Wa! Zhēn hǎo wánr!” both Meis cheered in unison, but with a distinct stammer coming from the hard-light version.
“Stop this nonsense,” Symmetra barked. “We still have work to do!”
While both Meis ignored Symmetra’s order and continued their increasingly enthusiastic fondling, Mercy studied the staff’s diagnostic display, raising an eyebrow in concern. “Doctor Vaswani, you may want to take a look at this.”
Symmetra gave an irritated sigh and joined Mercy. From the soft pulses of light across the hard-light Mei’s semi-nude form to the faint glimpses of a wireframe like structure warping around her curves, Amit didn’t need to see the display to know she had less than a minute left.
“I f-feel amazing!” the newly made Mei gasped, pulling off her hard-light bra and flinging it deliberately toward Amit, a large cup smacking him in the face.
“You feel a-Mei-zing!” the Mei-bot panted, her fingers teasing her twin’s nipples into rigidity, a sheen of “sweat” bringing a new luster to the hard-light construct’s already glossy skin. Amit pulled the bra off his face, feeling its substance shimmer and tremble between its fingers. A moment later, the once solid hard-light fabric lost all coherence, bursting apart in a cloud of sparks and crackling energies.
“Stabilize her!” Symmetra commanded.
“I’m trying!” Mercy exclaimed, her hands quickly tuning the staff’s array of grip-controls – but signs of the hard-light Mei’s deterioration only became more pronounced, scanlines of energy rippling along her gyrating form as she encouraged her partner’s increasingly forceful massage. Her hard-light glasses tumbled from her face, bouncing off her breasts to hit the floor and explode into dissolution. Symmetra grabbed the Mei-bot and pulled her away from her now-strobing duplicate, both Meis emitting moans of protest.
“S-so m-mmmeannn!” the hard-light Mei complained, crackling tongues of energy erupting from her trembling body like tiny solar flares. Symmetra traced patterns in the air, a shield barrier beginning to coalesce around the doomed construct. Amit seized one of his first successful trials – a simple spanner made of hard-light – and hurled it at the Symmetra-bot’s prosthesis. It struck home, knocking her arm askew as the barrier fizzled into nothing. The hard-light Mei gave a final apologetic squeal of, “Bào qiàn!” and exploded in a searing flash.
The blast sent them all sprawling, Amit landing hard next to the Tracer bot who had been knocked free of her temporal stabilize. “That’s not good!” she exclaimed moments before she winked out of the time stream. As faint ghosts of her helplessly flickered around him, Amit got to his feet and tried to locate Deepa. He saw her scrambling free from the disintegrating hard-light chair, her eyes meeting his in a panic. “Run!” she cried before ducking out of the side door. He was about to cross the room to follow her, when the Mercy omnic rose to her feet with a terse, “Verdammt!” Amit turned, sprinting toward the only available exit, bursting out of the lab into the hall. “Bring him back here!” he heard Symmetra cry as he ran, the sound of footsteps and straining servos not far behind.
Amit raced to the teleporter lobby, but the room was dark, it's portals inactive. He made a start toward the security office before recalling the Tracer-bot’s casual remark that they had been “dealt with.” The implications of the phrase refocused his spiraling thoughts, and he realized his only chance to get off this floor was the stairs – just as he set off again, he was cut off by the sudden eruption of a wall of ice.
A giggle sounded behind him, and he turned to see the Mei-bot bounding down the hall wearing an ecstatic grin, her full breasts leaping with matched enthusiasm in her straining bra. He could not understand how she was manipulating ice without her cryo-equipment, until he remembered the extensive internal cryogenic machinery witnessed during her hard-light duplicate’s construction. She gestured to the floor and a sheen of ice shot out in front of her as she took a playful skip, sliding along on her bare feet in a direct collision course. He tried get out of the way, only to awkwardly slip as she slammed into him, sandwiched between the creaking frozen barrier and the soft warmth of her breasts compressing against his chest. She seized his wrists and with impish delight whispered, “Got you!”
She held him there for a few seconds, a coy smile on her petite mouth, asserting her control as she pressed closer. Behind him, he could feel the wall cracking beneath the pressure, then abruptly shattering as quickly as it had appeared, and he tumbled backward with Mei on top of him. “That was very rude, running off like that!” she chided, bringing his wrists together. He felt a sharp chill exude from her grip just before his hands were encased in a searingly cold block of ice. “Now, are you going to behave yourself?”
Amit nodded emphatically and Mei released his hands, the ice block evaporating into mist. He immediately attempted to blow life back into his shivering fingers, and Mei gave another delighted giggle, saying, “I can think of better ways to warm your hands,” as she leaned forward. After a moment’s hesitation, he reached up and took hold of her plump breasts, their soft warmth stinging his chilled hands. “Isn’t that better?” she cooed, gently lowering her hips until her thick thighs straddled his waist. She gave an exaggerated show of surprise when her shorts came to rest upon the unbidden bulge through his uniform, but pressed herself further upon him and cooed, “I don’t want to bully you into helping…” She reached behind her, unclasping her bra, gingerly lifting it over her head as heat from full-contact with her artificial flesh drove away the cold. “I want you to want to help us!”
Amit told himself this was strictly an experiment, a stalling tactic, that his priority was still to escape, and to make sure Deepa made it out OK – but he could not help but relish the feel of her breasts as he gave them a tender squeeze, soliciting a quiet moan, her hips pressing harder against his. Was this lust programmed in to her? A side effect of the ‘personality’ she had been given? While he could not know the motivations guiding her software, he did have some understanding of her hardware after seeing her replicated from the inside out – and that gave him an idea.
He slid his hands from her breasts to her hips, taking hold of her meaty backside. She groaned, rutting firmly against him, the friction wedging her shorts between the twin globes of her cheeks as Amit splayed his fingers to grip as much of her generous figure as he could. “That’s it,” she moaned, swaying on top of him, moaning in encouragement as his hands slid up to tug at the elastic of her shorts, giving no indication that she realized his thumbs were applying pressure to the access panel on her lower back.
Amit sat up suddenly, taking a breast into his lips, the Mei-bot emitting a sudden gasp. At that precise moment, he pressed firmly on the panel, feeling it sliding open. He immediately pulled at her shorts, giving her a playful spank for good measure. “Hǎo le!” she exclaimed, lifting her hips up to wriggle out of her underwear before focusing on removing his uniform’s slacks. As she positioned herself over his newly exposed manhood, he put his hands on her hips and urged her to turn. “So that’s how you like it!” she chirped, swinging her legs across his chest as she rotated, dropping her big backside directly on to his hips and plunging him inside of her, the open panel on her lower back now facing him and exposing the omnic’s mechanical interior.
“Isn’t this better?” the Mei bot moaned, sliding up and down his length as he studied her heating and coolant distribution systems, trying not to be distracted by the rhythmic rise and soft compression of her plump cheeks. He cautiously reached out, trying not to alert her to his intentions when suddenly she froze. Amit’s heart stopped, his hand suspended in front of the panel, certain he had been caught.
“Symmetra!” Mei squeaked. Amit glanced around her but saw no one, realizing she was in radio communication. “No, I got him!” She sounded almost defensive as her hips came to rest upon his, stifling a yelp as she took him deeper inside of her.
Amit quickly reached inside of her, detaching and the lines of her cooling systems while she was wholly distracted by her conversation with Symmetra. “I’m j-just making sure he’ll cooperate this time!” she insisted, whimpering slightly as she rocked on her backside. Amit closed the panel, and could already feel her ass beginning to chill. “J-just f-five more minutes,” she stammered, smoke wafting from her ears. He gave a slight pump of his hips and she moaned again, squeaking, “I have to go! I’m s-s-sorry! Bye!”
Glancing back at him over her shoulder, he could see her face was flush with heat, the smoke intensifying. He knew her systems were trying cool her CPU, but instead cycled the same increasingly heated liquid. Meanwhile, her coolant was being uselessly directed to her artificial skin, ice crystals forming along her ass and thighs. “Ooh, s-sorry about that,” she purred, her glasses slipping down her nose as her eyes became glassy. “I-is it h-hot in here?”
The artificial sweat coating her body began to freeze, covering her from the neck down in a frosty sheen as her malfunctioning systems pumped more and more re-routed coolant. Her CPU temperature climbed even higher, smoke now rushing from her mouth as her servos mindlessly pumped her up and down upon his manhood, ice shaking loose from her jiggling curves. “CPU Temperature critical!” she squeaked, steam venting from her ears. “I m-m-Mei have a problem-lemmm!” She froze, wide eyed and flushed, gasping “Oh my gosh!” before her head exploded in a shower of superheated circuitry, a flood of hot liquid coursing down her chilled voluptuous body to release clouds of steam. Amit quickly withdrew from the headless robot, hastily pulling up his pants while the sizzling omnic slumped to the floor in a widening pool of leaking fluids.
“What a mess you’ve made!” he heard an accented voice chide, and he looked up to see Mercy, still clad in her lace underwear, leveling her staff at the robotic remains.
A golden field of biotic energy enveloped the Mei-bot’s nude form, lifting her headless body off the ground. Mercy’s fingers made subtle adjustments to her staff and the light grew brighter, nanites shimmering with heat as they worked to restore her from the scattered remnants of her exploded head.
Although a part of him relished the idea of the voluptuous Mei-bot being restored, he knew this would not help him or Deepa escape. “Almost done!” Mercy chirped, and Amit suddenly flung himself at the omnic medic, pulling her into a tight embrace with his lips meeting hers in what he hoped was a disarming kiss. He reasoned an outright attack would trigger a reprisal, but this…
The robot stiffened in his arms, and he could hear the steady harmonious ring of the restorative field falter. He felt her arms working to regain control over the field along the staff until he reached behind her and grabbed a fistful of her backside enmeshed in sheer pantyhose. She gasped, her staff slipping from her fingers to clatter on the ground, followed by the louder crash of Mei’s unrestored body.
Breaking from his kiss, Mercy gave him a stern look, demanding, “What do you think you’re doing?!”
Amit was glad to see she wasn’t immediately hostile, but he also realized he hadn’t considered what he would do next. Giving her pert backside an appreciative squeeze, he said, “Can’t it just be the two of us, at least for a while?”
“You have a lot of gall, asking for your reward up-front, especially after running out on us like that!” Despite her admonishment, he felt her body leaning into his, a coy smile forming on her lips. “And besides, I’m guessing you don’t have much left given how I found you with Dr. Zhou.” Before he could respond, she snatched up her staff and aimed it at him, a look of delighted curiosity on her face. “Although I may have a solution for that!” The head of the staff crackled with energy, its machinery accelerating before a beam of blue light lanced out to strike him in the chest.
Amit had to catch his breath as he felt himself surge with energy, every hair standing on end, every sense hyper-aware while an electric shiver pulsed through him. He felt unstoppable, as if he could punch through the hard-light windows, leap 120 stories to the ground, and then run a marathon at a dead sprint.
“How does that feel?” the Mercy bot purred, and Amit’s concentration became laser-focused upon her. Amit could now detect the subtle hints of her artificial nature – the faintest hints of a seam across her toned abdomen, a whisper of machinery as her posture shifted, the slight plastic fragrance of her artificial skin, noticeable even over the spilled fluids and scorched electronics of the broken Mei – and he was surprised to find how little this did to deter his surging libido. As his eyes scanned her statuesque body, he could hear the straining of cotton fibers within her bra as her nipples stiffened, and noticed her panties wicking trace amounts of fluid as a scarcely audible pump lubricated the robot’s artificial sex in anticipation.
“I feel incredible!” Amit gasped, his whole body throbbing with lust as he approached the beautiful robotic decoy.
“Show me!” she commanded. In a blur Amit had her against the wall, his cock punching through her pantyhose and lace underwear to bury itself within her, his hips lifting her up off the floor while she gave a gasp of pleasure. Mercy struggled to maintain her staff’s connection to Amit while being tossed wildly by his energized thrusting, finally locking the trigger in place before ramming it straight through the wall. The beam now encompassed them both, her own excited panting revealing its vitalizing effect on omnics as well as humans. “Ah… so that’s how it feels!” she gasped, tearing her bra free and swinging her hips upward before hammering her body against his with breathtaking force.
The wall shook from as Amit slammed her again and again against the hard-light surface, and his enhanced hearing detecting multiple disruptions to her internal machinery as components sprang out of place from the force of it all, servos laboring to maintain her own furious pace. She clutched him to her breasts, her arms’ plaintively whirring at a higher and higher pitch as she squeezed him tighter, until with a sudden sharp ‘crack’ her grip gave way. “N-not good!” she moaned, smoke rising from her ears as she convulsed amidst leaping sparks, her shivering electricity-charged sex triggering a long-forestalled climax from Amit. His body pulsed with release as he fell backward, the Mercy-bot screeching a digitized cry as the two tumbled to the floor, the Mei-bot’s soft curves cushioning their landing.
Amit stared up at the twitching, smoldering bot, her eyes flashing red as smoke gushed from inside her, concluding that she was just as defunct as the headless Mei whose chilled rump was now serving as a headrest – but a moment later, her body was bathed in golden light and Mercy’s eyes focused upon him, their red tinge fading. “I am equipped with a biotic self-repair system,” she cooed, her hand absently drawing across her glowing white abdomen. “Which is fortunate, since I do like it rough!” Reaching behind her, she grabbed her staff still embedded in the wall and wrenched it downward, the energizing field surging through them once again, a small gasp escaping her lips as his manhood swelled with renewed vigor inside of her.
Resisting the urge to immediately pick up where they left off, Amit could not shake his concerns over what the endgame with her was going to be. “What is going to happen to Deepa and me?”
A flash of annoyance crossed her face before softening into an easy smile, “Prove yourselves useful,” she purred rocking on his hips, “and we will take very good care of you!”
“And should you no longer find us ‘useful’?” he asked.
“Just don’t disappoint us and you needn’t to find out!” she moaned, her gyrations growing in urgency. “Along that line, might I suggest you stop asking questions and do as your hormones compel!”
Amit practically launched her into the air with a sudden thrust, Mercy gasping as they landed hard on the ground only to vault upward once more. He seized her bounding breasts, squeezing both tightly as electricity snapped across her soft pink areola between his fingers. “Harder!” she demanded, and he flipped her on her back, hoisting her hips into the air and driving into her with superhuman force, crushing her between him and the splayed Mei-bot’s body.
The relentless pounding brought shrieks of encouragement from Mercy and electric spasms from the headless Mei, and he could hear the coolant tank in Mei’s open panel cracking beneath the repeated force of Mercy’s tight ass. Sparks shot from Mei, Mercy yelping as a hissing stream of pressurized coolant shot up her backside, followed by sudden arcing currents of electric discharge from the downed omnic. Mercy clenched her teeth as the surge overwhelmed her, her abdomen glowing once more while her repair system did its work.
Amit pressed his fingers upon the barely perceptible seam on her stomach and flung open her abdominal panel, revealing a brilliantly glowing network of components synthesizing and distributing biotic nanites that was restoring her systems as quickly as they were damaged. He plunged both hands into the cavity and yanked loose several pieces, tossing them over his shoulder as Mercy only encouraged the act, shouting, “Don’t stop now!”
For just a moment, Amit saw the components beginning to reform within a cloud of freely erupting biotic energies and crackling electricity – but the half-formed machinery soon lost all cohesion, the biotic field collapsing, giving way to sparks and plumes of white smoke.
If the Mercy-bot was aware of her predicament, she gave no sign, her hips continuing to buck as the force of their impact dislodged a string of spinal capacitors from Mei. Current surged between the two robots, overwhelming Mercy and she gave a wordless moan of pleasure. Sparks erupted across her body, a chain reaction of failures spreading through her, the lingering remnants of her self-repair system searing with heat as it desperately tried to keep up. A sudden explosion at her chest panel drew her fleeting attention, her eyes scrutinizing the smoldering opening before another penetrating thrust left her cross-eyed and panting smoke. With the aid of the energizing field, Amit ignored the electric shocks from her and the increasingly broken Mei-bot, every thrust of his producing additional sparks, small internal explosions, a near-incoherent digitized cry of encouragement.
A sudden blast at her abdomen signaled the end of any biotic production, the Mercy bot snapping to a moment of shocked lucidity while panels blasted open across her body, venting smoke from her frying electronics. “It appears I’ve underestimated-d-d you!” she stammered, taking in the rapidly spreading damage as the electric feedback between her and the Mei-bot intensified. Amit withdrew from the twitching omnic, jerking her staff free from the wall just as she was fumbling for it. “B-bedauerlich!” she sighed, giving Amit a look of resignation behind an intensifying veil of crackling electricity. A moment later, the Mercy-bot exploded, pieces of the blond medic’s machinery flung throughout the hall and leaving a tangle of omnic endo-frames where her and Mei had been.
Her caduceus staff sputtered and powered down, the sudden absence of the amplification beam leaving Amit feeling drained and numb, his head swimming as he tried to focus on what he should do next. A ping on his visor dragged him from his stupor, and he saw an incoming call from Deepa. He immediately connected and began recovering his clothes, asking, “Deepa, are you OK?!”
“I’m fine!” she answered in a harsh whisper. “What about you!?“
After some consideration, he settled on, “I’m fine,” hastily buttoning his trousers. “The Tracer, Mei, and Mercy omnics have all been taken care of – I think that just leaves Dr. Vaswani.”
“Taken care of?” Deepa sounded dubious. “Since when did you become some kind of omnic-killing super soldier?”
“I didn’t claim to be – look, are you somewhere safe?” Amit realized he had overlooked something obvious. “Why are you whispering?”
“I’m on their ship! It’s empty… well, almost? Do you know Torbjorn Lindholm’s daughter, Brigitte?”
“Another member of Overwatch.” She paused. “Another ridiculously attractive member of Overwatch. I think they’ve got an omnic replica of her too! But right now she’s just in this pod thing and seems to be deactivated, so… just get over to the landing pad and we can get out of here!”
“Sorry, love!” another voice cut in, that chipper quasi-London accent. “But I’m pretty sure Symmetra doesn’t want you leaving just yet!”
There was the sound of a brief scuffle, followed by a frustrated groan from Deepa. Her camera activated to show Tracer dressed only in her underwear, but fitted with her time-stabilizing harness once again. A brief spark long her bare thigh showed the damage to her leg had not been repaired. She was seated upon Deepa who was lying on the ground, her hands bound with hard-light cuffs.
“Hi!” Tracer chirped. “Symmetra wants to see you in the lab.” She paused. “The one where Mei exploded. I really don’t think she’s happy about that!”
“Whatever, just leave Deepa out of this!” Amit growled. “Release her and I’ll go to Symmetra.”
Tracer looked incredulous. “I think you know who has all the leverage here, right? And what’s going to happen if you try and get cheeky?”
“OK! Ok…” He could hear Deepa trying to voice some opposition, but he knew that regardless of what he said, Tracer was right – and he didn’t have the will to risk Deepa more than he already had. “I’m going to Symmetra now. Just promise me you won’t hurt her.”
“Awww, I think your friend is sweet on you!” Tracer tittered, tilting the camera to reveal Deepa’s face in a pronounced blend of confusion and flushed embarrassment before the communication abruptly switched off.
Amit walked back toward the lab, stepping over the omnic remnants scattered across the floor. He reminded himself he had defeated Mercy and Mei, and his mind began to consider what opportunities might present themselves to overthrow these last two.
Amit heard Symmetra’s raised voice as he approached the replicator lab, having an argument with – herself?
“I-I am a d-duplicate of y-you, any imperrrrrr-fections are the fault of the p-p-processzzzz!”
Entering the doorway, he saw two underwear-clad Symmetras squaring off. A deteriorating hard-light replica stomped and gesticulated as bright lines of energy rippled across her curves. The far more collected “original” was perched elegantly on a hard-light stool with her long legs crossed, her data visor flickering in analysis as she watched her unstable duplicate with dispassionate interest. Just behind her, the oval field of an active teleporter bathed her in cool blue light.
“Were I you, I would expend my energies on restoring harmony to my systems,” the omnic Symmetra calmly stated.
“I a-am you!” the hard-light Symmetra snapped, tendrils of energy whisking off of her in a vibrant teal aura. “T-the Omnium’s assessment was in-c-correct, the replicator d-does not work!” Her hard-light bra and panties exploded into scintillating motes of dust. She looked about frantically, noting Amit’s arrival. “T-this is all your fault, y-you addle-mmminded f-fraud!” Her data-visor cracked, pieces tumbling down to disintegrate upon breasts now strobing with a fluctuating polygonal mesh. “Focus!” she hissed to herself. “Align your sys-systemmms!” But her deterioration only accelerated, patches of brightness flaring across her glowing body, its edges beginning to quiver until she was flaring with light. She gave a final frustrated cry before exploding in a nova of energy, the omnic Symmetra producing a hard-light barrier to shield herself at the last moment.
Once the dust had settled, the remaining Symmetra gave Amit a withering look that made him feel like he was back in primary school. Without breaking eye contact, she tapped her visor and asked, “Tracer, we seem to be rather short-handed. What is the status of Brigitte?”
“Welllll… her base personality copy is complete,” he heard Tracer’s voice chirp, cheerfully blaring loud enough from Symmetra’s visor for even Amit to hear it, “but her omnium directive is still being applied! I’d recommend letting her bake a bit longer, unless you want another complication!”
Symmetra gave an annoyed ‘tsk’ before adding, “It would seem Amit is here to cooperate – ensure Deepa is made comfortable for now, and I shall let you know if anything changes.” Disabling the communication with another tap, she gave Amit a stern look. “You’ve made quite a mess of Doctors Zhou and Ziegler, haven’t you?”
Amit struggled for a response that might excuse their destruction. “They were… very enthusiastic?”
Symmetra gave another annoyed ‘tsk’ as she stood up and went to the terminal, readying the replicator for another run. “I will admit the personality replication from human to omnic is not without its quirks, but most of the blame lies with a mind governed by biological imperative. Soon, we will be able to drop the charade and rid ourselves of such… inefficiencies.” With a final button press, the replicator hummed in preparation.
“Now then, let us discuss your failure to produce a stable hard-light replica,” Symmetra remarked coolly, striding into the translucent cylinder, its soft light emphasizing her impressive physique. “How might we ensure the long-term viability of the replica, and, in direct correlation, the continued existence of your friend Deepa.”
Amit swallowed, trying to formulate a plan to get close enough to disable her. “Umm… one thing I might suggest?”
“When replicating any processors, we have seen better results if they are running under peak load during the moment of duplication.”
She scowled. “Your mind works in such primitive ways – do you think I cannot see what you are planning?”
Amit was genuinely taken aback, offering a stammering, “W-what? No, it’s true!”
Symmetra continued. “You propose spiking my processors with sexual interactions-“
Amit felt flustered, realizing he could not deny this would have been his ultimate proposal.
“-in the hopes that I malfunction?! But what you fail to anticipate is that I am based upon a far more rational and ordered mind, one that does not lose itself to hedonistic whims!”
“If you think I am misrepresenting our findings, I can show you the results of our experiments that prove-“
Symmetra cut him off with nothing more than a narrowing of her amber eyes. “Understand that if this does not work, or if by some fluke you manage to destroy me, Deepa is done for. Is this still your proposal?”
He met the scowling robot’s intense gaze, answering with a meager nod.
“Very well, then,” she said, beckoning him close. “Come here and give my CPU something to process.”
Amit approached, shedding his work uniform once more as he met her in the confined space of the replicator’s source cylinder. Symmetra placed her hand upon Amit’s shoulder, forcing him to his knees before her. “Do not disappoint me,” she commanded, sliding her panties over her wide hips, down across her thigh-high stockings. Leaning her back against the glass of the cylinder, she placed her legs over Amit’s shoulders and drew her sex close, the servos within her thick thighs whirring in his ears.
Amit set upon the omnic’s artificial sex, his tongue sliding inside her, drawing a tinny stutter from her machinery as she squirmed under the sudden stimulation. “Y-yes, that is sufficient. M-maintain this effort, and-“ She was cut short by a gasp when he squeezed her plump backside tightly, causing her whirring thighs to clench against his head. “Un-necessary!” she gasped. “I-I have adjusted my sen-sensitivity t-to only require a m-modest amount of stimulation!” Amit continued to knead the droid’s ass, devouring her sex as she squirmed on his shoulders, and he began to slide a hand up her back, subtly feeling for an access panel. Her cries escalated into a climactic scream and she slammed her palm on the replicator’s activation. The machine hummed to life, scanning the orgasming omnic while she convulsed with pleasure.
Seconds later, her cries were being echoed by a hard-light duplicate beside them, the softly glowing twin Symmetra suspended in an auto-constructed hard-light harness, her legs seemingly slung across the shoulders of a phantom partner in a mirror of her source’s position. The omnic Symmetra pushed Amit’s head back, gasping for simulated breath as she regarded her copy.
“By all measurements, I seem to be stable,” the hard-light copy exclaimed, sliding out of the harness. She swept her prosthetic arm across her hips, materializing a pair of hard-light panties from the micro-forge in its palm. “And all functionality has been preserved – excellent!”
“Then I shall proceed with mass-replication,” the omnic Symmetra stated, adjusting herself slightly on Amit’s shoulders. “In the meantime, I will need you to recover the remains of Zhou and Ziegler.”
The hard-light Symmetra was taken aback. “I am your equal, not some lacky to be ordered about while you take pleasure from this human!”
“This is a simple manner of expedience!” the omnic Symmetra growled. “You may have him once we are through.” Amit could not find a trace of a panel on her lower back, and expanded his search higher while she was distracted by argument.
“That is not what I meant!” the hard-light Symmetra gasped. Whatever mechanism that allowed the omnics to blush seemed to have translated perfectly into hard-light, her face becoming flush as she backed away. “Very well, carry on then!” She left the room in a huff, materializing a teal dress across her curves with a petulant gesture from her forge-arm.
“As if I do not know precisely how her mind works,” the omnic Symmetra chuckled, turning her attention to Amit. “Proceed as before,” she purred, sliding her hips forward once more. He obliged her, swiftly drawing moans of approval as his tongue found her again, his hand crushing her plump, soft derriere. Soon she was crying out with release once more, her palm eagerly slapping the replicator’s activation.
She took his searching hand in hers, tearing off her bra and directing him to massage her pert breasts as another climaxing hard-light duplicate was drawn into existence. Again she hit the replicator’s activation, her cries growing higher and higher as he cupped her breasts and teased her nipples, the droid’s skin growing slick with artificial sweat, another hard-light replica born amidst squeals of pleasure.
“Do you have any idea of how shameless a display this is?” one of the hard-light Symmetras asked. “Y-you may wish… ah!… to adjust your sensitivity!” the youngest replica remarked.
“I d-do not t-take orders from you!” gasped the omnic, activating the replicator again. “My systems are operating at p-peak performance!” Amit gave her ass a quick spank and she made an electrical buzzing sound, her hand repeatedly slapping the replicator’s activation before the current job was finished. Warning chimes indicated them the operation could not be started while another was in progress, but the second the next howling hard-light Symmetra duplicate appeared, another job began.
Both the omnic and the replicator itself were being pushed to their limits, the machinery of each thrumming with energy. Amit heard the squealing of the next hard-light replica overlapping with the moans of the previous, and realized the replication times were getting shorter. And was that distortion in her voice? He eased back from the omnic’s dripping sex to see steam rising from it. He wouldn’t need to find an access panel to sabotage her when her personality programming simply couldn’t see that she might be losing control. She quickly set the replicator off again and pulled him to his feet, a flexible leg wrapping around his waist as she drove his cock into her with a lusty groan, her eyes flashing red as her head jerked to the side with a flourish of sparks.
“I think this might be too much for you,” he teased.
“Do nnnot presume to t-tell me my limits!” she moaned, kissing him as her body pressed into his, heat from her components radiating through her artificial skin. The next hard light Symmetra materialized before the other could clear the platform, falling on top of her twin with a glitching cry. Amit saw her body pulse with light and he knew she was doomed.
“D-don’t stop!” the omnic Symmetra commanded, thumping the activation again. He considered that the other hard light replicas might intervene, but looking back he saw they were busy entertaining each other with hard-light forged sex toys, oblivious to the deteriorating situation.
The scent of burning electronics filled the booth as she activated the machine yet again. Hard light replicas materialized into existence as she pumped him furiously, his hands clenching her luscious, trembling backside, his lips upon full breasts that concealed the audibly straining electronics inside of them. The orgiastic frenzy of her duplicates was a wash of moans, sighs, and gasps, all suddenly cut through by a shocked voice proclaiming, “What is this chaos you have wrought?!”
This got the omnic’s attention - across a field of deteriorating hard-light replicas was the first duplicate bearing the remnants of the Mercy and Mei bots floating on a hard-light stretcher. Amit saw from the pulsing light and fraying edges of the writhing bodies that many were close to exploding, and realized the danger he was in. He slipped out of the distracted omnic Symmetra and scrambled from the replicator. Activating his visor, he called out, “Deepa! The lab is about to blow!” He made a dash for the teleporter, reasoning that while he didn’t know where it went, it had to be safer than a room full of hard-light robots on the verge of exploding.
One of the Symmetras gave a sharp squeal from behind him, her voice fluctuating unnaturally and accompanied by a sizzling sound. He heard the explosion a split-second before reaching the teleporter, feeling a hot blast at his back propel him through. He landed hard on the docking pylon, feeling the open air on his skin as he lay sprawled in front of the Orca’s landing ramp. A chain of explosions roared from behind, the bridge swaying veritignously beneath him, the whole building shaking from the force of it.
Taking a moment to ensure he was unharmed, he glanced back to see the Symmetra omnic had attempted to follow – but only half of her had made it through the teleporter, her body ending at her abdomen in a tangle of wires and pooling hydraulic fluids. “A m-momentary lapse…” she droned, lights in her eyes flickering intermittently.
With a sudden zipping sound, the underwear-clad Tracer bot was standing beside them, gawking at the smoke billowing from the building. “You blew up your lab?!” she exclaimed, then glancing at the remains of Symmetra. “And half of Doctor Vaswani?! You know, maybe I’m jumping to conclusions, but this really doesn’t look like we have your cooperation…”
“It was an accident?” Amit tried.
“Symmetra, is that true?”
Symmetra responded with a strange buzzing sound and a trickle of smoke from her lips before her head thudded against the pylon.
“Lovely!” Tracer remarked, flipping her twin pistols into her hands. “So here’s the plan – since you’ve been such a naughty boy, I’m going to have to make good on our threat to Deepa. Then, we fly you to the Omnium where the god program can sort out what to do next. Sound fair?”
“You can’t!” Amit gasped.
She smirked. “And that’s because… a naked scientist is somehow going to stop me?”
“No – because I am!”
Both Amit and Tracer looked to the source of the voice to see a fierce-looking armored woman, her long red hair whipping in the wind, brandishing a mace and shield. Her freckled face was set in steely determination as she glowered at the Tracer bot, deploying the energy barrier shield deploying to offer her complete cover as she began to march forward. Just behind her, Amit caught a glimpse of Deepa giving him a furtive wave, followed by a thumbs-up, and finally a look of concern as she shouted, “Wait - where are your clothes?!”
Amit got to his feet on the windblown landing pad, trying to put his current state of undress out of mind – a process made no easier by the Tracer-bot in front of him, dressed only in a pair of Union-Jack panties, her tight sports bra… and, of course, the time-stabilizing harness slung over her chest and back.
“Brigitte!” she called out cheerfully to the steadily advancing and heavily armored woman. “I can explain everything!”
“You’re part of a group of omnic replicas who came here to steal something from the Vishkar corporation,” Brigitte stated, “but Deepa and this naked man blew up the others, and now you’re the only one left.”
The Tracer-bot stepped back, her bubble-butt clenching around her tight-fitting underwear. “When you say it like that, I don’t much like my chances! But y’know what? I’m actually not the last ‘bot here…”
Brigitte was now within two meters of Tracer’s position, and she began to twirl the mace. “Then where’s your backup?”
The Tracer-bot crouched low, responding with a quiet, “Love, you’re an omnic too!”
Brigitte flinched, the head of her flail retracting back into the handle with a sharp metal ‘clank’ – in that moment, Tracer sprang forward, disappearing in a streak of blue light, reappearing on the other side of the confused warrior. Amit ran after her, but it was hopeless – by the time he had taken a single step, Tracer had skipped again, and was now looming over Deepa.
“Sorry, D!” she exclaimed, producing a blinking metal disc and slapping it on to the stunned Deepa’s chest. “But there are conseque-“
Half of the Tracer-bot’s head disappeared in an explosion of sparks and circuitry as Brigitte’s whip-flail lashed out on a long chain, tearing through the omnic. Brigitte was already sprinting, her heavy boots covering the ground quickly as rockets on her armor fired, propelling her faster still. Tracer stumbled, sparks sputtering from the open cavity in the side of her head as she stammered, “C-c-consssequen-quen-quencesssss…” Brigitte swung her flail again to finish her, but Tracer winked out of existence, leaving behind only that metal disc affixed to Deepa, its steady beeping growing faster.
A moment later, Tracer reappeared directly in Amit’s path, exactly as she had been seconds earlier, mid-sprint and her head fully intact. Amit bowled into her, inadvertently tackling the petite droid as they both slammed onto the ground, her giving a surprised, “Woah!” while her twin pulse-pistols skittered down the pylon. The impact also seemed to have affected her time-stabilizing harness, its quietly ringing chime now fluctuating unevenly.
Rather than struggle against Amit as he asserted his unexpected pin by grabbing her wrists, she simply said, “You really should watch this!” and indicated the scene before them with a flick of her head. Glancing up, he saw Brigitte tear that beeping disc off of Deepa and throw it behind them before tackling her to the ground while raising her shield. A second later, the disc exploded, the blast sending Deepa to the ground with Brigitte on top of her.
“Huh,” Tracer muttered in obvious disappointment. “You see, that was supposed to blow open Deepa like a piñata. Except instead of candy, you’d see she’s full of wires and gizmos!” She flashed a wide grin at Amit’s incredulous expression, adding, “Because she’s an omnic!”
“No, she isn’t! Deepa hates omnics!” he insisted, but he found his research partner’s quirks meshing all too well with this explanation. Her strange cultural naivete, her incredible mathematical mind with its improbable leaps of intuition, her never eating, her abrupt needs to “recharge”, even her obliviousness to her own beauty all made sudden sense. And yet he still found himself staring at her prone form, hoping she was OK.
“She hates omnics because she’s programmed to hate omnics!” Tracer chirped. “Kept you off the scent, didn’t it?” She added with a slight giggle. “But I can tell you fancy her… and if you come… back… with…” her voice slowed, her simulated breathing intensifying. He could feel her hips begin to push back slightly against his groin, her round bottom squeezing his exposed cock. “Oh dear…” she panted, her body beginning to sweat.
“Something the matter?” Amit asked, very conscious of how the other omnics had succumbed to their libidinal impulses without much provocation – and none of those other bots had been as conspicuously oversexed as the one now trembling beneath him.
“N-nothing’s wrong!” she insisted, deliberately pressing her bubbly backside firmly against him. “I’m j-just… about t-to give you another reason to cooperate!” With a wriggle of her hips, she managed to slip his tip through the elastic of her panties.
“I need to see if Deepa is OK,” Amit insisted, his attention split between Deepa and the Tracer bot skillfully angling herself to take in his swelling manhood.
“Trust me, she’ll keep!” With a sudden thrust of her hips, the Tracer-bot buried him inside her, releasing a cry of pleasure. Her body sprang into action, servos whirring as her lithe body bucked with machine-powered intensity. Amit could scarcely maintain his grip on the enthusiastic bot as she drew herself to her knees, her chipper voice pitched to plaintive squeals with every slap of her perfect ass. She brought his hands, still gripping her wrists, up to her wildly bouncing breasts. Part of him knew it would be a mistake to release her, but every ounce of her seemed focused entirely on sex – and so he allowed his hand to slip from restraining her to seizing her tits.
Her time-harness flared with light, and for a split-second she was incorporeal. Amit immediately cursed his lustful stupidity, then received a shock when Tracer coalesced not next to her pulse-pistols, but instead right where she had been, only in a far more disheveled state. Her hair was wild and tousled, her body drenched in artificial sweat, her panties torn and hanging on her hips by a thin shred of elastic. She seemed to be every bit as confused as he was, and he felt her body tense as the chronal device flared once more.
Again, she blinked in and out of existence, emerging still anchored to his cock. Her goggles were askew, her bra missing entirely, Amit’s fingers gripping the bare artificial flesh of her tits. Her harness crackled and sparked, its ring of light flickering unsteadily while the machinery inside the Tracer-bot wavered in audible distress. “H-hang on!” she exclaimed when the harness fired a third time, and she reappeared as a sparking, smoking mess. Amit felt a tightness on his member, realizing he was now stuck in her quivering ass, heat surging from her as sparks flew from the tear on her thigh. Smoke gushed from her ears and mouth, her eyes delirious as she stammered, “Nnnnot t-to worry, I-I-I have this underrrr control!!” She glanced over her shoulder and shot Amit a laborious wink amid a web of crackling electricity – moments later, her head exploded with tongues of flame and smoke. Her body shuddered and then toppled on to the hard light of the pylon.
Wasting no time, Amit got to his feet and stepped over the headless bot when the time harness whirred into action – in a flash, the now-whole Tracer-bot had her legs wrapped around his hips, her bra back in place, and a confused expression on her pixie face. “What’s g-gotten into this thing?!” she demanded, giving the harness a solid ‘whack’ with her palm. It flashed and suddenly Amit’s vision went dark, something warm and soft pressed against his lips, machinery whirring all around him. He felt the Tracer-bot squirm and realized she was sitting on his shoulders, her cries of desperation scarcely audible through her clenching thighs. Another flash and she was on her knees in front of him, her lips wrapped around his cock. Smoke poured from her ears as she bobbed up and down his length while electricity intensified at her chest, tendrils crackling between her harness and her bared, jostling breasts. When a sharp explosion sent sparks flying out the back of her head, she pulled him from her mouth and looked up to give him a wink, stating, “G-got this underrrr control-trol c-c-con-!” The Tracer-bot’s head erupted in fire and circuitry, her fingers slowly losing their grip on his shaft before gently sliding off as smoke billowed from her sparking neck.
Amit took another step toward the still-prone Deepa and Brigitte when the Tracer-bot’s harness activated once more. In a flash of light, Tracer was standing intact with her chest pressing against his. “O-K-k-k!” she stammered, faint lines of smoke emerging from her grinning lips. “It seems that my Chronal Accelerator is misbehaving. But if I c-can keep th-things from getting too out of control b-between us,” she gave him a wink, and put her arms over his shoulders, “th-then I can s-satisfy this r-randy bit of business without anyone malfunctioning and we c-can get on with things! Sound g-good?”
“Why don’t you just let me-”
“OK! K!” she interrupted, cutting off any further conversation with a sudden kiss. Amit could feel the vibrations of her jittering internal machinery as she pressed firmly against him, and felt it intensify when his hands slid into her panties to give her round backside a tight squeeze. “E-easy does it!” she squeaked, tensing as his hands continued to work the soft, springy material, the bot moaning in delight while something inside her emitted a high-pitched whine. “Evvverything is just… so… sensitive! I’m n-never going to last at this rate!” He provoked her with a light spank and she yipped, sparks flying from her temples, her eyes strobing with light.
Her harness flashed and she now had her back to him, his cock wedge between her cheeks as her body snapped and buzzed. “J-just k-keep it to-to-together!” she demanded, her failing body still committed to massaging the length of shaft with her pert backside in halting motions, her harness sputtering and producing an unsteady keening sound. A sudden blast sent a panel at her abdomen soaring off the pylon, sparks and smoke erupting from inside. “Oh d-dear!” She remarked in a distorted voice. “L-let’s t-t-try th-this again, shall we?” Her harness flashed and sparked, Tracer winking out of existence then appearing before him bent over, her servos groaning in protest as she gave a trembling push to sink his cock in her ass. Sparks fired from the increasingly damaged bot, one arm hanging limply while her head craned on whirring joints to meet his gaze as she delivered a twitching thumbs-up. “G-g-got this underrrr control-trol c-c-controllll-“ her head detonated in a blast that bounced her off of his hips and then down on to the pylon in an awkward sprawl, her body riddled with open smoking panels of machinery, some slick with fluid, others charred beyond recognition. With an electric groan, her chronal accelerator died in a flurry of sparks, and the Tracer-bot remained broken on the ground before him.
Amit saw the Brigitte-bot stirring, and he raced over to her and Deepa. As the armor-clad warrior sat up, he spied a hole in the back of armor, the bare metal and polymers of her internal structure visible beneath a large rent in her dermal layer.
Noting his look of concern, her freckled face winced. “Is it that bad?”
Amit tried to give her a reassuring look. “It’s fixable. I mean, I can repair it. Treat it! I can treat it… Ummm… how’s Deepa?”
Deepa emitted moan of, “Deepa’s just fine,” slowing pushing herself up.
Amit moved toward her, but Brigitte pressed a healing satchel into his chest. “Just hold it against my injury, it’s automatic.” As he took the pack from her and she turned her back to him, he found himself nervous at the prospect of dealing with two omnics at once, even if they ostensibly did not know what they were. Reaching through the damage in her back, he took hold of her spinal conduit. “What do you think-?“ she began, and he gave a sharp tug. “-you’re d-d-doiiiiinnnngggg…” The bot wavered unsteadily, then slumped, her head drooping forward.
“Yes Amit, what do you think you’re doing with her?!” Deepa exclaimed, getting to her feet.
“You of all… p-people-“ he stumbled over the word, both surprised at her outburst and still uncertain what to think of her.
“Yes, she is a dastardly omnic!” Deepa conceded, pushing him aside and grabbing the satchel from him. “But she doesn’t know that – right now, she thinks she’s the real Brigitte Lindholm, and she hates the machines even more than I do! Furthermore, we need to get out of here – and do you know how to fly that Orca?” She took hold of the conduit Amit had just disconnected, but after a few futile hops, she found she could not reach the skull port of the much taller Scandinavian droid. “Plug her back in!” Deepa insisted, pressing the cable into his hand.
“Tracer told her that she was an omnic!” Amit insisted.
“If Tracer told you that you were an omnic, I suppose you would believe her?”
“But I’m not-”
“But-“ seeing her withering gaze, Amit dutifully took the cable and plugged it back in. With a vibrant humming sound, Brigitte perked back up, shaking her head in confusion. “What… what happened just now?”
“You’ll have to excuse my colleague,” Deepa stated. “He found a way to mess up a foolproof healing kit. He’s completely useless.” She slapped the satchel on Brigitte’s back, and immediately the casing fell away, revealing a small drone that quickly administered a biotic treatment that restored her artificial skin.
“Useless?” she asked, gesturing to the broken omnics before them. “He dealt with both those Tracer and Symmetra bots for us!”
Deepa gave him a curious look. “How did you manage that?”
“I’ll tell you later,” he said, with no intention of ever following through. Well, unless…
“Right now we need to get to Watchpoint Gibraltar!” Brigitte exclaimed. “If we’re going to rendezvous with other members of Overwatch, it needs to be face-to-face! And we’re going to need to test everybody! Oh, vänta ett ögonblick!” She sprinted away from Deepa and Amit as the two exchanged nervous glances, followed by Deepa giving him a quick look up and down. “You need to find some clothes! I can’t talk to you like this!”
Amit walked up the ramp to the Orca, finding a utilitarian pair of coveralls amongst the supplies. While putting them on, Brigitte and Deepa came aboard, Brigitte holding the remains of the Symmetra and Tracer bots. “Overwatch is going to want to see these,” she said, stuffing them both into some cargo netting. “Now strap in, you two! We’re getting out of here!”
Brigitte tromped up to the cockpit, the pilot’s seat creaking under the weight of her armor. She grabbed the controls and lifted the bulky transport ship off the landing pad as Deepa and Amit fell into their seats, the craft swiveling northward and rocketing away from the smoldering Vishkar building.
“I know I was very insistent that we leave her on,” Deepa began, her eyes darting toward Brigitte. “But if she turns on us, do you think you can handle her?”
“If she’s anything like the others,” Amit mused, “I don’t think she’ll be a problem.”
Deepa nodded, suddenly looking very tired. “OK… keep an eye on her – I… I need to rest for a bit…” Amit watched her as she abruptly slouched in her flight chair, her hand absently resting on the charging pad in her arm rest. The charging indicator lit up, just one more indicator of what she was. Taking stock of the situation, he realized that while there was no chance the Hard Light Replicator could be recovered, he was still on a craft with two omnics. Omnics manufactured by the same AI collective that had intended to capture him and use his work to subjugate humanity. If the ship’s course projection was to be believed, they were indeed heading toward an Overwatch compound off the coast of Spain. Amit just hoped that the next member of Overwatch he met would actually be who they seemed.
But in the case they were robotic replicas, then he just hoped they had the same exploitable defects as the others. And maybe, as Deepa had noted, they would still be ridiculously attractive.