Overwatch system in Mha

"Regular talk"

'Thinking'

|Author talking to you, my dear reader.|

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Lucio—or Steve, as he still thought of himself—stirred awake, the warm morning light spilling through the thin curtains of the apartment window. His head throbbed faintly, like a melody stuck between the beats. Blinking against the haze of sleep, he sat up, the unfamiliarity of his surroundings hitting him like a sharp note off-key.

"Where…?" he muttered, rubbing his temples. The room was neat but sparse, decorated with traditional Japanese touches—tatami mats, paper lanterns, and a faint scent of incense lingering in the air.

It wasn't long before the first trickle of memories began to seep in. Not his memories—Lucio's. Snapshots of a life that wasn't his began flashing through his mind: a vibrant, green-haired boy smiling with his parents, the harmonious blend of Brazilian beats and Japanese elegance that filled their home, and then… the sharp dissonance.

His breath caught as the images shifted, fragments of the attack replaying in his mind. A lavish hotel room. Laughter cut short by a shattering door. Men in black, moving with precision. His father shouting, his mother's panicked cries muffled. And then darkness, accompanied by a single haunting image: a widow's kiss.

Lucio's heart—or was it Steve's?—raced in his chest as the memories solidified, leaving an ache that felt foreign yet deeply personal.

"Assassination," the word fell from his lips like a bitter pill. Steve clenched his fists, his own thoughts and emotions battling the surge of another life's pain.

'Why me? What the hell is this?' he thought, the absurdity of the situation was dawning on him. "This sounds like... something out of a Frogger video. Mafia origins, secret assassins—what's next, some kind of system?"

As if on cue, a robotic, feminine voice echoed in his mind, smooth yet artificial.

"Good morning, Lucio Correia dos Santos. Overwatch System initiating."

Steve froze, his eyes darting around the room.

'Current objective: Adapt and survive. Hero profiles unlocked: 1. Welcome to Overwatch.'

'What the—' Steve slapped his forehead, half-expecting this to be some bizarre dream or lingering concussion.

'Please refrain from physical damage to your body. Processing trauma recovery… recalibrating neural stability… complete.'

The system's voice was calm, detached, almost maddeningly clinical.

'You've got to be kidding me,' he groaned in his head, running a hand through his hair. 'This really is a Frogger plotline.'

But there was no time to fully process his situation. The system's voice chimed again, more insistent this time:

'Reminder: Awaiting your command.'

'Command? I don't even know what's going on!' Steve thought in his head, staring out the window at the bustling world outside, utterly unaware of the storm brewing around him.

Lucio was still staring blankly out the window, trying to process the surreal collision of lives and memories in his head, when a soft knock came at the door.

"Lucio, you awake?" Asa's voice filtered through, calm and composed as always.

Steve—or Lucio—blinked, snapping back to reality. He wasn't sure if it was the system's voice or his internal chaos that had him frozen, but he managed to call back, "Yeah, I'm up."

The door slid open, revealing Asa dressed in a casual kimono. She looked at him with a sharp, discerning gaze that seemed to cut through the haze in his mind. "Good morning," she greeted, stepping into the room with a sense of quiet authority.

"Morning," Lucio replied, trying to steady his voice. His memories—or rather, Lucio's—painted a picture of Asa as someone who valued strength, both in body and mind. He figured she wouldn't appreciate seeing him unravel.

Behind her, Kiriko's cheerful voice echoed faintly from the other side of the apartment. "I'm heading out to train!" she called. A moment later, the sound of the sliding door shutting signaled her departure.

Asa waited until the noise faded before turning back to him, her expression unreadable. "We need to talk," she said, her tone firm but not unkind.

Lucio's stomach tightened. "Okay," he said cautiously, gesturing for her to sit on the tatami mat across from him. Asa declined with a slight wave of her hand, instead opting to stand, arms crossed.

There was a long pause as she studied him, her dark eyes searching his face for something.

"You've been quiet," she began, her voice even but edged with curiosity. "More than usual. You seemed... off yesterday. And now, you're sitting here like the world is crashing down around you."

Lucio opened his mouth, but Asa held up a hand to stop him.

"I'm not asking for excuses or lies," she said, her gaze hardening. "I just need to know if you're in trouble. Kiriko and I... we took you in. That means we're responsible for you. But I need to know what's going on in that head of yours."

Steve hesitated, her words cutting deeper than he expected. Yamagami-san wasn't wrong—her protective instincts were something he'd felt even in Lucio's memories. But how could he possibly explain the impossible truth to her?

"Nothing," he lied, forcing a weak smile. "Just... adjusting. New place, new life. It's a lot to take in."

Asa's brow furrowed slightly, and for a moment, he thought she might press the issue. But instead, she sighed and shook her head.

"Fine," she said, her voice softening slightly. "If that's all you're ready to say, I won't push you. But know this, Lucio—this family doesn't deal in secrets. If you're hiding something, it'll come out eventually. And when it does, I hope you'll trust us enough to tell us the truth."

The weight of her words lingered in the air, heavy and unyielding. Steve nodded, swallowing hard.

"I understand," he said quietly.

Asa gave him one last scrutinizing look before turning toward the door. "Good. Now, eat something and get ready for the day. You'll need your strength."

With that, she left, leaving Lucio to sit in the silence, the system's voice echoing faintly in his mind once again:

'Trust level with Asa Shimada: Neutral. Recommendation: Build rapport to ensure survival.'

'Yeah, no pressure.' Lucio muttered, rubbing his face. 'None at all.'

The TV in the modest kitchen buzzed with static before the channel settled into a breaking news broadcast. Asa, setting a plate of eggs and toast on the table, glanced up at the screen with mild curiosity. Lucio sat across from her, absentmindedly sipping his orange juice. His mind was elsewhere, still swirling with fragmented memories and questions he wasn't ready to confront.

The anchor's solemn tone immediately caught Asa's attention.

"This morning, authorities confirmed the tragic assassination of famed music producer Benicio Correia dos Santos and his wife in Kyoto, Japan. His 12-year-old son, Lucio Correia dos Santos, is now missing."

Lucio froze mid-sip. The glass in his hand trembled as the words sank in. His heart began to race as the report continued.

Asa frowned, her chopsticks pausing mid-air. "Lucio, isn't that—" She looked at him, her voice trailing off as she noticed his pale face.

The screen displayed a photo of his father—or rather, Lucio's father. The man's warm smile and confident posture felt like a dagger to Lucio's chest. He remembered that smile now, from deep within the fractured memories that didn't quite belong to him. Memories of laughter, of Benicio's voice calling him "my shining star." Then, the echoes of gunfire and chaos crashed into his thoughts like a tidal wave.

The glass slipped from Lucio's hand, shattering on the floor. Asa rushed to his side, her voice laced with concern. "Lucio? What's wrong?"

He couldn't speak. His breathing grew erratic, and his hands shook as tears spilled down his face. "I—I can't... Yamagami-san, I can't..."

She crouched beside him, steadying him with a firm but gentle grip on his shoulders. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

The sound of the anchor's voice continued, each word driving the situation home.

"Authorities are treating the boy's disappearance as a potential kidnapping. Pro Hero agencies and Interpol have been mobilized to locate the child, as the international community mourns the loss of one of the music industry's brightest stars."

Lucio shook his head violently, trying to block it out, but the images wouldn't stop. His memories—Lucio's memories—were bleeding into his mind with vivid, horrifying detail. The fear, the helplessness, the overwhelming loss—it all hit him at once.

"I'm sorry," Lucio finally choked out, his voice trembling. "Yamagami-san, I—I need to tell you something."

Her brows knitted together, but her grip on him didn't waver. "What is it?"

"I'm not... I mean, I am Lucio, but I'm not—" His words broke off as he buried his face in his hands. Sobs wracked his body, and he gasped for air as the weight of everything crashed down on him. "I remember it all... the attack, the screams, my father—oh God, my father!"

Asa's eyes widened, but she said nothing, giving him the space to speak. Her hand rested gently on his back, a grounding presence amid the storm inside him.

"I—I'm missing because they think I'm gone, but I'm right here! I don't know why this is happening or how I'm even alive after everything, but... Asa, I can't handle it. It hurts so much."

Lucio's voice cracked as the tears continued. The guilt of knowing he wasn't the real Lucio—just someone thrust into this life—clawed at him. And yet, the pain of what this Lucio endured felt like his own, inescapable and raw.

Asa's expression softened. She crouched lower to meet his gaze, her tone steady and calm. "Lucio, listen to me. Whatever's happening, whatever you're feeling—it's okay. You're here now, and you're safe. But I need you to help me understand. Can you do that?"

Lucio nodded, though the words felt stuck in his throat. He wasn't sure where to start or how much to reveal. But as Asa's calm, unwavering presence grounded him, he resolved to try.

For better or worse, he owed her the truth—or at least as much of it as he could explain.

They still have the day to figure it out. It's 8 am on a Saturday.

|Author here. Did you know the average Japanese adult sleeps between 11pm- 1am and the average Japanese person wakes up between 6-7 (couldn't find what Japanese teens and adults wake up to) I have it unconfirmed until I do more research about it. Anyways Author out.|

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(38 hours ago)

The grand hall of the Kyoto Music Gala shimmered with a golden glow, the chandeliers casting intricate patterns on the polished floor. Lucio stood beside his father, Benicio Correia dos Santos, whose magnetic presence commanded attention as they mingled with Japan's elite. Lucio tugged at the collar of his tailored suit, feeling slightly out of place amidst the crowd of polished adults.

"Lucio, stand tall." his father whispered, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Tonight is important. You'll be meeting people who could shape your future."

Lucio nodded, straightening up as Benicio guided him toward a family radiating wealth and sophistication—the Yaoyorozus. At their center was a girl around Lucio's age. She had a poised elegance that matched her surroundings, though her curious, slightly nervous eyes suggested she wasn't entirely at ease either.

"Mr. Yaoyorozu," Benicio greeted, his voice smooth and charismatic. "A pleasure to finally meet you in person. And this must be your daughter?"

The man, tall and dignified, gave a polite nod. "Yes, this is Momo. Momo, say hello to Mr. Correia dos Santos and his son, Lucio."

Momo stepped forward, giving a graceful bow. "It's an honor to meet you both," she said, her voice formal but kind.

Lucio froze for a moment, suddenly hyper aware of the spotlight on him. "Uh, hi," he managed, giving an awkward wave before catching his father's disapproving glance. Quickly, he added, "It's nice to meet you, too."

Momo's lips twitched in a small smile, as if suppressing a giggle. "Are you enjoying the gala so far?" she asked, her tone gentle, making it clear she wasn't teasing.

"It's...different," Lucio admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not really used to events like this. Too many fancy people."

That earned a genuine laugh from Momo, and Lucio felt a flicker of pride.

"It can be overwhelming," she said, her own posture relaxing slightly. "But the music makes it worth it, don't you think?"

Lucio nodded, glancing toward the stage where a string quartet was performing. "Yeah, the music's amazing."

Benicio and Mr. Yaoyorozu exchanged pleasantries in the background, their conversation steeped in the formalities of business and alliances. Lucio tuned them out, focusing instead on Momo, who seemed refreshingly down-to-earth despite her polished demeanor.

"Do you play any instruments?" Momo asked, her tone genuinely curious.

Lucio's face lit up. "Yeah, I play the drums and the turntables. I mess around with mixing tracks, too."

"That's really cool," Momo said, her eyes lighting up with interest. "I've been learning the piano, but I'm not very good yet."

"I could teach you some rhythm tricks," Lucio offered, surprising himself with his confidence. "If you ever want."

Momo smiled, her cheeks flushing faintly. "I'd like that."

Their conversation was interrupted as Benicio rested a hand on Lucio's shoulder again. "Lucio, we should continue making the rounds. Mr. Yaoyorozu, Momo, it's been a pleasure."

"Likewise," Mr. Yaoyorozu said with a courteous nod.

As they walked away, Lucio glanced back, catching Momo's gaze once more. She gave him a small wave, and he found himself smiling despite the stiffness of the evening.

If nothing else, at least he'd made one genuine connection in this sea of formality.

The elegant atmosphere of the gala was alive with muted conversations and the soft hum of string music. Lucio found himself next to Momo once again, this time near the refreshments table. They had been chatting about their favorite songs when someone brushed past them with a deliberate precision that felt oddly unnatural in the bustling crowd.

Lucio turned his head to see a striking woman with sharp features and alluring purple skin and yellow eyes. Her movements were fluid, almost like a dancer's, and her presence commanded attention even though she was dressed modestly compared to the extravagant gowns surrounding her.

"Oh, pardon me," the woman said, her French accent rolling off her tongue with practiced grace. She gave them a small, polite smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"It's no problem," Momo replied with her usual politeness, giving a slight bow.

The woman's gaze lingered on Lucio for a fraction too long, her smile curving ever so slightly. "You must be Lucio Correia dos Santos. It's a pleasure to meet you," she said, offering her hand. "I'm Amélie Moreau, an admirer of your father's work."

Lucio hesitated for a moment, something about her presence unsettling. He forced a polite smile and shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Moreau."

Her handshake was firm, her fingers cool to the touch. "You're quite the star yourself, I hear," she said, her tone smooth and measured. "Your father speaks so highly of you. You must make him very proud."

Lucio shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. "Uh, thanks. I try."

Momo, ever perceptive, picked up on his unease. "Are you a producer as well, Ms. Moreau?" she asked, stepping slightly closer to Lucio.

"Not quite," Amélie replied with a soft chuckle. "I dabble in...logistics for events like this. Ensuring everything runs smoothly, that sort of thing." She glanced at her watch—a sleek, silver design that caught the light. "Well, I mustn't keep you. Enjoy the gala."

With that, she turned and disappeared into the crowd, her movements as precise and deliberate as before.

Lucio watched her go, a knot tightening in his stomach. Something about her didn't sit right—her smile, her words, the way she seemed to know more about him than she should have.

"Lucio, are you okay?" Momo's voice broke through his thoughts.

He turned to her, forcing a grin. "Yeah, I'm fine. She just...gave me a weird vibe, you know?"

Momo tilted her head, her brow furrowing. "Weird how?"

"I don't know. Like she wasn't really here for the gala. Like she had some other reason to be here."

Momo glanced toward the direction Amélie had gone, her expression thoughtful. "Maybe you're just overthinking it."

"Maybe," Lucio muttered, though the unease in his chest refused to fade.

As the night went on, he couldn't shake the feeling that Amélie Moreau—or whatever her real name was—hadn't bumped into them by accident.

The gala was in full swing, the lights of the chandeliers reflecting off the polished marble floors and creating an almost dreamlike glow. Momo had just excused herself to speak with her parents, leaving Lucio to wander toward his own family.

Spotting his mother and father near the center of the ballroom, Lucio weaved through the crowd. His father was laughing, engaged in conversation with a group of influential figures, while his mother sipped on a glass of champagne, her gaze soft but watchful as it always was.

"Mom, Dad," Lucio called out, reaching them just as his mother turned toward him with a warm smile.

"How are you holding up, meu filho?" she asked, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I'm good. Just...a little tired," Lucio admitted, his earlier unease still lingering from his encounter with the mysterious Amélie.

Before his father could respond, a loud, ear-splitting crack echoed through the room. Lucio's head snapped up just in time to see the grand chandelier above shatter, shards of glass raining down as the structure plummeted from the ceiling. Screams erupted as chaos broke loose.

"Lucio!" his mother yelled, grabbing his arm. She began pulling him toward an exit, her face pale but determined.

Gunfire erupted, the sharp cracks of bullets drowning out the panicked cries of the crowd. Lucio turned to see masked figures swarming the room, their weapons aimed with deadly precision.

"Run, Lucio!" his mother commanded, her grip on his arm tightening as they moved.

"No, come with me!" Lucio pleaded, panic rising in his chest.

They were almost to the edge of the ballroom when one of the assailants stepped into their path, raising his weapon. Everything seemed to slow. His mother shoved him hard to the side, and Lucio stumbled, falling to the ground as the deafening sound of a gunshot rang out.

"Mom!" he screamed, his voice cracking as he watched her collapse to the floor, a red stain spreading across her forehead.

Tears blurred his vision, his body frozen in shock, until a strong hand yanked him to his feet.

"Lucio, we need to go!" his father barked, his voice cutting through the haze of grief. His face was a mask of barely contained anguish, but his grip was steady as he pulled Lucio toward a group of security guards.

"But Mom—"

"There's no time!" his father shouted, dragging him through the chaos. The guards formed a protective barrier around them, their weapons drawn as they moved swiftly toward a secured exit.

The last thing Lucio saw before the doors closed behind them was the lifeless form of his mother on the floor, her expression peaceful despite the violence around her.

As the car sped away, the weight of what had just happened crushed down on Lucio. His mother was gone. His life, as he knew it, would never be the same.

The SUV sped through the dark streets of Kyoto, the sounds of chaos from the gala fading into the distance. Lucio sat trembling, his mother's lifeless face burned into his memory. His father, sitting beside him, placed a firm hand on his shoulder, his voice steady despite the turmoil.

"Lucio, listen to me," his father said, his tone a mix of urgency and comfort. "Breathe, meu filho. We'll get through this. I promise."

Lucio tried to focus on his father's voice, nodding shakily. "Mom... She—"

"I know." His father's voice cracked for a moment before regaining its strength. "She was protecting you. That's what matters right now—keeping you safe."

The security guard in the passenger seat turned to face them, his expression tense. "We're being followed. Sir, we need to change routes."

Before his father could respond, a deafening crack shattered the moment. The windshield exploded as a bullet tore through it, striking the driver. The SUV swerved violently, the lifeless body of the driver slumping forward, causing the vehicle to veer uncontrollably.

"Hold on!" the remaining guard shouted as another shot rang out, striking him in the chest.

The SUV collided with a parked car, the impact jarring Lucio against his seatbelt. The airbag deployed with a loud pop, cushioning the blow but leaving him dazed.

"Lucio, are you okay?" his father asked, his voice strained. Blood seeped from a gash on his forehead, and he clutched his side in pain.

Lucio nodded, his ears ringing. "I'm fine... Dad, you're hurt!"

"We have to move!" his father ordered, wincing as he pushed open the damaged door. He stumbled out, grabbing Lucio's arm and pulling him along.

They ducked into a narrow alley, the sound of footsteps and shouted commands growing louder behind them. His father leaned heavily against a wall, breathing raggedly.

"Listen to me, Lucio," he said, his voice low but firm. "You have to run. Now."

"No! I'm not leaving you!" Lucio protested, tears streaming down his face.

"They're after me, not you," his father insisted, gripping Lucio's shoulders. His eyes were fierce despite the pain. "If you stay, they'll find you too. You're the only one who can carry on. Your mother would want you to live."

Lucio shook his head, his heart breaking. "I can't leave you! Please, Dad, we can escape together!"

His father smiled faintly, a mix of sorrow and pride. "You're strong, Lucio. Stronger than you know. Now go. Run as fast as you can and don't look back."

Before Lucio could argue further, his father pushed him gently but firmly toward the alley's end.

"I love you, meu filho. Never forget that," his father said, his voice barely audible over the pounding of Lucio's heart.

With a final, desperate look, Lucio turned and ran, his legs carrying him through the labyrinth of alleys. His chest heaved with every breath, tears blurring his vision as the sound of gunfire echoed in the distance.

He didn't look back.

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(End of flashback)

Lucio sat on the edge of the couch, his hands trembling as he stared at the floor. The room was heavy with silence, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Asa sat across from him, her usual calm demeanor replaced with a look of concern and heartbreak.

"That's how I met you," Lucio said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He wiped his eyes, which were red and swollen from tears. "I ran... I used my quirk to go as fast as I could from Kyoto to here in Osaka. I didn't stop. I couldn't stop."

Asa reached out and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Lucio..."

"I didn't know where else to go," he continued, his words pouring out like a flood. "I just kept running. I thought if I stopped, they'd catch me. They killed my mom, my dad... I don't even know if he's alive. I ran until my legs gave out, and then you found me."

Asa knelt in front of him, looking into his tear-streaked face. "You were scared and hurt, and I didn't ask any questions because I could see you needed help. But now... now I understand. Lucio, you've been carrying this all by yourself. You don't have to anymore."

Lucio sniffled and managed a weak smile. "Thank you, Yamagami-san. I don't know what would've happened if I hadn't run into you."

"You're stronger than you think, Lucio," Asa said gently, squeezing his shoulder. "And now you're not alone. We'll figure this out together."

Lucio nodded, his heart heavy but feeling a small glimmer of hope.

A sudden ding echoed in Lucio's mind, and his vision blurred for a moment as a translucent panel appeared before him. The familiar voice of the Overwatch System, robotic yet oddly calming, cut through his thoughts.

[Quest Unlocked: A Family's Legacy]

Objective: Uncover the truth behind the assassination of your parents.

Reward: New Hero Unlock: Tracer

Bonus: Access to exclusive stealth and tracking abilities.

Lucio blinked at the panel, his mind racing. Why now? Why would the system bring this up now of all times? He rubbed his temple, trying to shake the intrusive thoughts.

'Find out why they were assassinated? Is this some twisted reward for living through that nightmare? I don't even know where to start.'

Athena's calm voice interrupted his internal monologue.

'This quest is critical for understanding your past and protecting your future. The truth holds the key to both vengeance and justice.'

Lucio scowled at the system's ever-clinical tone. 'Justice? What justice? My mom's gone, my dad's...' He trailed off, the lump in his throat making it impossible to continue.

'The truth often brings pain, but it also brings clarity. Your parents' legacy is intertwined with your own, Lucio.'

Lucio let out a shaky breath, leaning back against the couch. Yamagami-san had just offered him support, and now the system was throwing him into the deep end again.

'I don't even know if I'm ready for this. But if there's even a chance to figure out why they were taken from me... I have to try.'

The quest notification lingered for a moment longer before fading from his vision, leaving Lucio to sit in silence. A storm of emotions brewed within him, but amidst the chaos, a spark of determination began to form.

'If you think I'm giving up, system, you've got another thing coming.'

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meu filho = my son (Portuguese)