The desert wind carried the taste of ozone and ash. From Europe to Africa, from crumbling cities to scorched plains, the news spread like wildfire: two relays destroyed.
Jack Morrison's relay in Eastern Europe had burned itself out, collapsing under the weight of his relentless campaign. Gabriel Reyes' strike in the southern theater had been brutal, efficient, and final, his unit left behind only a crater where the relay once stood. For the first time in years, Anubis' expansion had been halted not just in theory, but in undeniable, broadcasted fact.
Across the world, civilians cheered in shattered streets and makeshift shelters. Soldiers huddled around terminals, their dirty faces lit by news feeds replaying footage of collapsing relay towers. For once, the omnic tide looked like it had an end.
But Shawn Rose felt no comfort. Every victory, he knew, was only sharpening the blade Anubis would use next. Egypt. He knew from prior knowledge the general area where Anubis was housed, but not the exact location. But now, things have changed. The fortress of Anubis had been revealed.
The Geneva forward command center buzzed with fevered energy. Overwatch leaders, analysts, and field officers stood around the holo-table, where a crimson pulse marked the Nile Delta. Streams of retreating forces converged on it like veins pumping lifeblood into a heart.
Adawe stood at the table's head, her hands gripping the rim. Her face was taut with exhaustion, her suit collar still dust-stained from weeks of evacuations, but her eyes burned with an intensity that silenced the room.
"This is no longer a theory," she said. Her voice carried like iron on glass. "Anubis has revealed itself. Its fortress is here, beneath the sands. Every omnic under its command is retreating to defend it."
Torbjörn grumbled, stroking soot from his beard. "So the snake finally leaves its hole. Question is: do we crush it before it coils tighter, or wait for it to strike again?"
Jack leaned forward, jaw set. "We don't wait. Every second gives him time to fortify. But Overwatch alone can't take this. Not with the numbers he's pulling back."
The holo-table shifted, data feeds overlapping: tens of thousands of hostile units, artillery emplacements rising from hidden bunkers, aerial swarms layering the skies.
Reyes crossed his arms. "We'll need the world behind us. Otherwise, this turns into another Amman...or worse."
Adawe inhaled deeply, steadying herself. "Then the world will have no choice but to follow. Prepare the conference hall. Get every leader on the line." She looked at Shawn, her gaze sharp. "And Rose...make sure your medics are visible. Symbols matter more than firepower in the hours to come."
Shawn gave a weary nod. He knew what she meant. The world needed more than tactics. It needed hope carved into flesh and blood.
The room was suffocating with power. Projectors hummed as faces flickered into existence: presidents, premiers, chancellors, generals. Some appeared in crisp uniforms, others in crisis bunkers with sandbags behind them. All of them bore the same mixture of fatigue and suspicion.
Adawe stood at the podium, flanked by Jack and Reyes. Behind them, Shawn and his medics stood in uniform, their insignias freshly polished, their faces grim but resolute. Cameras captured everything, the world was watching.
"Leaders of humanity," Adawe began, her voice ringing steady, "today, we stand at the turning point of the Omnic Crisis."
A murmur rippled through the conference as the holo-table flared, showing footage of Morrison's strike, Reyes' demolition, and then the unmistakable streams of omnic forces withdrawing to Egypt.
"For years, Anubis has cloaked itself in secrecy, sending its relays as weapons to bleed us dry. But secrecy breeds arrogance. In its haste to protect itself, it has revealed its nest. Its armies are in retreat, not advancing, but retreat. This is the first time since the Crisis began that omnics have pulled back in fear."
One of the leaders, a grey-haired prime minister from Europe, interjected. "Or in preparation. If we attack Egypt, we risk walking into its jaws."
Adawe didn't flinch. "We risk everything if we do not. Every soldier here knows what happens when we wait. We've seen cities burn while committees debated. We've buried millions because we hesitated. If we allow Anubis to entrench, we will never get another chance. Strike now, and humanity has a future. Delay, and humanity becomes a memory."
The room fell quiet, except for the hum of machines.
Shawn felt his pulse rise. Adawe wasn't just appealing to logic, she was wielding memory like a blade, cutting into the guilt every leader carried. All the names of cities scarred by hesitation hung unspoken in the air.
The Russian delegate leaned forward, voice gravelly. "And who leads this strike? Who takes responsibility for the blood?"
"I do," Adawe said without hesitation. "Overwatch does. But we cannot stand alone. We need your armies, your ships, your courage. This is not Overwatch's war, it is humanity's."
The holo-screens flickered with silence. Then, one by one, commitments began to spill.
France pledged three battalions. Brazil committed air support wings. Japan promised naval carriers for the Mediterranean. Even fractured nations, half-ruined by years of fighting, promised what little they had. A unit here, a squadron there, but together, it formed a coalition the world hadn't seen since the beginning of the Crisis.
Adawe straightened, letting the momentum swell. "Then let the world know: humanity fights as one. Anubis has nowhere left to hide."
The Mediterranean churned with warships. Carriers, destroyers, and hospital ships stretched across the horizon, their decks bristling with aircraft. Above them, coalition drones buzzed in formation, their signals scrambled to resist Anubis' reach. Along the shores of Egypt, tanks rolled off transport ships, kicking up plumes of sand as they took positions.
From the desert ridges, Shawn and his medics looked down at the vast coalition arrayed below. It was more than he'd ever seen in one place, flags of a dozen nations fluttering side by side, their differences set aside in the face of annihilation.
S3bastian whistled low. "Looks like the whole world's come to the party. About time."
Across the dunes, the fortress revealed itself. Once buried, now awakened, a monolithic structure of steel and sandstone rising from the desert. Towers unfurled like the limbs of some ancient god, red lights burning in their seams. Massive cannons rotated, spitting out test salvos that turned dunes into glass.
Shawn raised his katana, electricity dancing faintly along its edge. His medics stood behind him, their packs glowing with the charge of Blackline medicine. They weren't just healers anymore. They were runners, soldiers, saviors.
"Thorns," he said, his voice cutting through the roar of battle. "We move with the vanguard. Wherever they fall, we rise. Today, we bleed for the world."
And with that, the world's largest assault of the Crisis began.