Author's note

DISCLAIMER: The writing gets much better as the story goes on, as I have gained more experiance over time. Possible rewrite in the future. I hope you enjoy!

This is my first story I think I have ever written, but I felt a sudden urge to write an Overwatch fic so here it is.
Please feel free to point out any grammatical and spelling errors to me, as English is not my favourite language and I would love to give people the most pleasant reading experience I can.
The story is about an OC I created inspired by many different works of fiction (and more to come probably).
First chapter is more of a setup, hopefully some Overwatch characters will appear in chapter 2, and if not, then in the 3rd.
All reviews are most welcome, please let me know if you like/dislike the story and why.
Have a pleasant read!

The sun was setting, bringing that day to an end. A man was walking down the streets of New York. He was dressed in a long black trench coat with a white shirt underneath it, and black trousers. The buckle of his belt was shaped like a head of a dragon.

He looked at most forty years old, although his hair was mostly gray, with only slight black strands here and there. He was sporting a neatly trimmed, short full beard which was mostly darker than his hair, yet some grey patches had already started to show on it. According to many women he's met in his years, he was, in fact, very handsome. Maybe not as much now that a big, long scar stretched from under his chin, all the way through his left cheek.

"So, it would seem it's just another normal, boring day" he thought.

Villen sighed. He should be happy about that. Normal wasn't exactly his thing, and always a welcome change. Another day spent patrolling - if you can even call it that - the city. He should be sitting in his flat, avoiding the public, not be out here, where trouble would surely find him. It always happens the same way, he can't stop himself from helping someone therefore revealing his location to his pursuers. And so he has to move cities to avoid either capture or being under near constant assault, putting bystanders in danger.

Villen was getting really tired of this routine. Sometimes he managed to help without activating his suit, but that has become increasingly difficult in recent years. The disbanding of Overwatch, the Second Omnic Crisis, Talon running rampant. All this things made it all to easy for criminals to acquire weapons which in turn forced him to use the suit so that he doesn't end up in a hospital. Which was yet another thing he couldn't afford to do, it would make his capture all the more easy.

But the man just couldn't help himself. Something in his mind could not accept not helping people. He wouldn't just turn and walk away from them. And their gratitude always filled Villen's heart with so much happiness. The fact that he didn't see anyone in need of help today was both great and weirdly sad. He didn't want people to need help, but the act of helping was just so gratifying to him.

He shook his head. "As long as people are safe I'm happy", he said to himself, "And the added benefit of that is Talon doesn't get to know where I am". He thought of all the Talon's previous futile attempts of finding or capturing him. "It is probably the best possible outcome for me", he smiled to himself.

The sun has already set after all, so he could write that they off as a success, right?

Wrong.

As he was passing by an entrance to one of the numerous back alleys a sudden voice snapped him out of his thoughts. A female voice came out of the implant in his ear, usually a great way of communication as only he could hear it, but this time it almost startled him.

"Sir, I have detected a faint call for help from the alleyway to your left. Female. I'm also detecting several other voices in close proximity to it. The are either some distance away or inside one of the buildings, I will be able to get a better reading if we get closer."

"Thank you Vea, let's check it out." Vellen responded, turning into the alley and picking up a pace. He sighed, looks like it wouldn't be such a boring day after all.

"Sir, I must remind you that getting involved will re-"

"Result in talon likely finding me if I were to activate the armor, I am aware of that Vea. As much as you are aware that this won't stop me from getting involved."

"I am, however I thought it appropriate to try nonetheless."

He came to a stop at the point the alley he went down became much wider, joining into what looked more like a courtyard surrounded by several buildings.

"Thank you Vea. Now -". A sudden gunshot ringed in the air, it seemed to come from one of the buildings. "I need a location Vea. And activate the suit's combat protocols." He said, a sense of urgency in his words. Now Talon will find him for sure, he sighed, but he quickly brushed that thought away. No time for that kind of thinking right now.

"Activating combat protocols now. The source of the shot is behind the door on the right, twenty meters from your current position."

Villen started running to the door and grabbed the cylinder attached to his belt. Meanwhile his coat started changing its form and material as it began shifting into a full plate armor. The base color of was black, it was however very ornately decorated, with an obvious dragon theme adding the red and gold colors. Each pauldron was shaped to look like the top of a dragon's head. The flames etched all over the armor. The whole thing made to look, as if it was made from huge dragon scales. As the helmet, the sides of which were decorated by dragon wings pointing upwards and slightly back, closed around his face, Villen thanked himself for installing the HUD that made it so much easier to see.

The technology used for the transformation still made Villen proud, even after all this time of using it. He managed to greatly upgrade the armor since it was passed down to him by his father. And it needed it, without all of the upgrades started by his grandfather, the ornate armor would be only good for a parade. But now thanks to all of the wonders of modern technology the plate was light, not constricting, and durable enough to stop most small arms fire.

He squeezed the cylinder in his hand and it unfolded into a sword. The crossguard shaped like spread dragon wings, the black blade colored with streaks of red flames. He squeezed again and the blade hummed with power. Meanwhile on his left forearm a shield started forming. A large oblong shape, the top of it formed into yet another dragon head, which appeared fused with the shield, it's open maw cutting into the shape of the shield - a potential weakness if it wasn't for a barely visible energy field filling the gap.

As he reached the door his armor and weapons had just finished unfolding. Thanks to the suit's sensors he could clearly hear a pleading of a woman, and several other voices either mocking her or laughing. He gathered his strength and kicked open the door.