[For all they don't know of one another, Reyes knows himself that if he was able to be brought back from the blast that there was very little chance that Jack Morrison was not also still walking around somewhere. After all, he was the golden child, the one everyone would mourn at the end of the day when nothing rose from the ashes of the headquarters -- no matter how disenchanted the world had become with Overwatch.
He'd occasionally dreamed of forcing them to mourn again, but there were always more pressing matters and more immediate gratification that he could obtain. Yes. He knew the vigilante was tailing him. Stopping only allowed him time to catch up, so he could get his questions answered on equal footing.
The shotgun shell pings wildly off a silver claw and makes a loud crack against the viewport.]
Probably has something to do with talent. Or special interests.
no subject
He'd occasionally dreamed of forcing them to mourn again, but there were always more pressing matters and more immediate gratification that he could obtain. Yes. He knew the vigilante was tailing him. Stopping only allowed him time to catch up, so he could get his questions answered on equal footing.
The shotgun shell pings wildly off a silver claw and makes a loud crack against the viewport.]
Probably has something to do with talent. Or special interests.
[He turns just enough to look at 76.]
Or are you not allowed to have your own opinion?