The Temple of Zenyatta in the Nepalese mountains was a place of absolute peace, but for Mark, peace had become an internal battlefield.
He trained every day alongside Vendetta and under Zenyatta's serene guidance. Slow tai chi movements, deep meditation, controlled breathing. Vendetta was a constant presence — strong, silent, with her battle braids and scars that told stories of ancient wars. She watched him with growing concern.
"You are here physically, Mark, but your mind is far away," she said one morning as the two practiced slow combat forms. Sweat ran down his face despite the cold mountain air. "What is consuming you?"
Mark stopped, breathing deeply. His thoughts returned more and more often to the past — a small town in the Mexican countryside called Oaxaca, where he had grown up before moving away. The memories came in painful waves.
"I see my child self," he murmured. "The skinny boy who got beaten every day in the schoolyard. The other boys laughed because I preferred to stay home playing Overwatch instead of playing soccer. 'Look at the nerd!' they shouted. 'Gonna cry to your mommy again?' I had no friends. Just the computer and the heroines on the screen. Tracer made me smile when no one else could. Mercy gave me hope. And now… I turned all of them into abandoned mothers."
Vendetta placed a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder.
"The past doesn't disappear, but it shouldn't define us forever either. Zenyatta says suffering is the harshest teacher."
That same afternoon, during a deep meditation in the zen garden, the collapse began.
The world around Mark darkened. He was no longer in the temple. He was back in his childhood — or a distorted version of it. A ten-year-old boy with the same face he had now stood before him in the dark void. The boy stared at him with eyes full of anger and disappointment.
"Why did you give up?" asked the child version, his voice echoing like a judgment. "We had a purpose. His soul is tied to the objective. If you don't finish impregnating all of them, we will disappear forever. You will cease to exist. The creator made us for this!"
Mark felt his chest tighten. He knelt in the void, facing his younger self.
"I don't want this anymore," he answered, his voice trembling. "I've learned that hurting others to please a creator I don't even know is wrong. Tracer, Mercy, Ashe, D.Va… they weren't vessels. They were people. I used them. I abandoned them pregnant and alone. I became the same kind of monster that destroyed me when I was you."
The boy laughed, a cruel and childish sound.
"Idiot! Without the purpose, there is no Mark. The creator gave us life to spread seed in this universe. If you stop, we die. Go back! Go after Pharah, after Mei, after all the ones still missing! Fill them until they overflow!"
"No!" Mark shouted, rising to his feet. "I renounce that creator! I am no longer his instrument. I choose to be human. I choose not to hurt anyone else to survive. I'd rather disappear than continue being this!"
The boy screamed in rage and the void exploded in light.
Mark woke up screaming in the temple. Vendetta and Zenyatta were beside him, worried.
"Mark!" Vendetta exclaimed, grabbing his shoulders. "You were screaming for almost an hour. Your body was shaking as if you were possessed."
Zenyatta floated calmly, but his voice carried concern.
"Your mind is at war with itself. The balance is broken. You need rest."
The nightmares grew worse.
Night after night, Mark woke up drenched in cold sweat, screaming the names of the women he had abandoned. In one nightmare, Tracer cried while holding the baby, asking why he had left. In another, Ashe pointed a gun at him, her belly huge, saying "You destroyed us." D.Va appeared in her broken mech, screaming "I loved you, you coward!"
Vendetta began sleeping near him to calm him down. One night, she shook him hard when he started convulsing.
"Mark! Wake up! You're scaring me!"
He opened his eyes, gasping, and saw real fear on her face.
"I… I'm sorry, V. They're inside me. The purpose. The creator. I'm tearing myself in half."
Three days later, the final collapse happened.
During a guided meditation with Zenyatta, Mark fainted. His body collapsed onto the stone floor of the temple. A black and golden light exploded around him. Vendetta and Zenyatta watched in horror as Mark's body literally split in two.
The "good" version — the one he had become in the temple — remained lying down, breathing with difficulty, still unconscious.
The other — the "evil" version, with cold eyes and a predatory smile — rose slowly. His torn clothes revealed a body marked by pulsing black veins.
"Finally free," said the evil version, his voice distorted and deeper. "The creator gave us a gift. Now I can finish what you started… the right way."
The evil version looked at Vendetta, who was still trying to help the good Mark.
"Well, well… a strong warrior. Perfect to start with."
Before Vendetta could react, the evil version moved with supernatural speed. He grabbed her by the wrists and violently ripped the top of her clothes, exposing her firm, scarred breasts.
"Let her go!" shouted the good Mark, suddenly waking up and struggling to his feet.
Vendetta fought back, but the evil version was stronger. He forced her to her knees, opened his pants, and shoved his hard cock against her lips.
"Suck it, strong bitch. I'm going to fill you just like I did the others."
Vendetta resisted, biting at the air, but his strength was overwhelming. She was forced to open her mouth. The evil version groaned in pleasure as he thrust deep into her throat.
"That's it… good girl. Learn your place."
The good Mark gathered all the strength he had learned from Zenyatta and attacked. A precise harmony strike destabilized the evil version, who released Vendetta and staggered back.
"You will not touch her!" roared the good Mark. "She is my friend. Not a tool!"
The evil version laughed, wiping his mouth.
"Coward. I'm going to complete the mission. And you can't stop me forever."
Before the situation could get worse, the sky above the temple was torn by a deafening sound. An Overwatch ship — modified and heavily armed — descended rapidly. The ramp opened and several women stepped out: Tracer (with a large belly), Mercy, Ashe (armed and furious), D.Va (in pregnancy-adapted combat gear), Sojourn, Venture, and Echo.
"There he is!" Ashe shouted, pointing her weapon. "The bastard who got us pregnant and ran!"
Tracer activated her chronal accelerator, eyes filled with tears and rage.
"Mark… or whatever you are now. You owe us an explanation!"
Vendetta, still breathless and with her clothes torn, quickly stood up.
"Wait! He split! This evil version came out of his body. The Mark here now is the good one! But the evil one is loose… and he's going to try to fuck anyone who appears!"
The evil version smiled at the group.
"What a lovely family reunion. I'm going to finish what I started. All of you are going to carry more of my children."
The good Mark looked at Vendetta with urgency.
"V, I need to leave. Alone. It's safer for everyone. The evil one is loose and I'm the only one who can stop him. Take care of them for me."
Vendetta grabbed his arm.
"Don't do this alone. We can—"
"Run, Mark!" she suddenly shouted, pushing him as the evil version charged.
Mark ran toward the cliff, leaping onto a hidden trail in the mountains. As he fled, memories attacked him like flashes of alternate realities.
He saw himself as a child in Oaxaca, getting beaten in the schoolyard. He saw himself as a teenager, alone in a dark room, playing Overwatch until dawn. He saw himself arriving in London and meeting Tracer. He saw himself abandoning a pregnant Ashe in the desert.
Reality flickered. For a second he was in the temple. The next, he was running through streets of a city that no longer existed. Vendetta shouted behind him, explaining to the heroines:
"He split! The good Mark is running! The evil one is loose and dangerous! He's going to try to impregnate anyone he finds!"
Mark ran without stopping. His feet carried him far from the temple, through forests and abandoned roads, until he finally reached a distant city: Cairo, Egypt.
He had barely crossed the city limits when energy shots echoed.
"Freeze, you bastard!"
Pharah — Fareeha Amari — stood before him, her Raptora armor broken and damaged, her face marked with fresh cuts. Her eyes burned with hatred and pain. The armor showed signs of recent fighting, and she limped slightly.
"You came back…" she growled, pointing her rocket lance directly at him. "After everything you did. After fucking me like an animal and leaving me pregnant like I was nothing. I'm going to kill you, Mark!"
Mark raised his hands, panting.
"Fareeha… wait! It wasn't me! Or rather… it was the other part of me. I split. I'm trying to stop him!"
Pharah didn't lower her weapon. Tears of rage streamed down her injured face.
"Liar! I feel the baby moving every day. And you just disappeared. Now you show up here like nothing happened? I trusted you… and you destroyed me!"
The chapter ended with Mark on his knees, facing the woman the evil version had violated, while the evil version roamed free across the world, ready to continue its dark mission.
End of Chapter 18: Mark's Childhood