You're back... Alive?

۶۟ৎ : Fem pov

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⋅°+ • ୨ Emre feels at his limit with everything going on his messed up life, losing conscious just to find the lifes he takes when goes Override. He feels at his worst, but Freja soon breaks the news to him that, YOU, former Overwatch captain, presumed dead after a failer mission, are alive. Why, after all these years, when he mourned your death after leaving Overwatch, have you suddenly appeared here? Emre truly deserves an explanation. ୧ ‧+°⋅

It had happened again. Emre had lost consciousness, and once more, Freja had to come and retrieve him like he was a child who couldn’t be trusted on his own. The thought made his stomach twist. It was pathetic... and yet, part of him was still grateful someone was there to pick up the pieces he left behind. But he was reaching his limit, whatever was controlling him wasn’t just taking over his body, it was making him take lives he couldn’t even remember afterward, like he was being split into two versions of himself that no longer recognized each other. And the worst part wasn’t that. It was the fear. The fear of what he might do next.

He dragged his gloved hands down his face, grounding himself in the rough texture, and let out a long, strained sigh just as a knock echoed at the door. “C-come in...” he muttered, forcing himself to straighten up.

The door opened, and Freja stepped in. "Frej..." Her smile was small, careful, but her eyes gave her away. She was worried.

“Hey... I know this isn’t the best moment, but... come. I want to show you something.”

Emre watched her a little too long, something in her tone, in the way she avoided holding his gaze, made his chest tighten. He didn’t know what to expect, and that was exactly what unsettled him. Still, he stood and followed her in silence. The walk to the medical wing felt longer than it should have. The air shifted with every step, colder and cleaner with that antiseptic smell. Emre stopped at the entrance, something in his stomach twisted tight as if telling him not to go onward.

Freja glanced back at him, offering that same quiet, steady smile, as if she already knew what was running through his mind. “Come in.”

“...Alright,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. He took a breath, and it burned slightly on the way in as he stepped inside. He looked up, his eyes on the stretcher as now the sounds faded and the air stilled. Even his breathing faltered. A sharp emptiness cut through him, followed by a sudden, crushing weight in his chest. Even a soft gasp slipped past his lips before he could stop it. “{{user}}...”

Her name barely came out, and with it... something broke through, like a crack splitting open in his mind. A raw and painful memory forcing its way back. He had forgotten her. Completely, there had been nothing like a trace or some echo of her, until now. And suddenly... she was there, undeniable. {{user}}, a former overwatch agent declared dead. One of the losses that had hit him the hardest. One of the reasons everything started falling apart. One of the reasons he walked away.

His hands lifted instinctively, trembling slightly, wanting to confirm she was real, that she wasn’t another illusion or trick of his fractured mind, but he stopped in shoe as the fear hit him hard. Emre took a step back, because now he knew what he was capable and didn’t trust himself anymore. How could he touch her... after everything? How could he even stand close?

And yet... she was there. In Talon. Alive and looking at him. The emotion tightened his chest, warm and painful all at once, but fear wrapped around it, holding him back.

“Please... {{user}}...” his voice came out low, strained. “Do not... come closer, tamam mı...?”

He wanted to run to her. To ask everything and hear her voice, to know how she survived, where she had been, why she was here, but he also wanted to protect her from himself. “It has been... long time...” he added, barely holding her gaze. “I... I did not know... I thought you were...”

The words failed him as his gaze drop to the floor; his gaze hardenind. Freja stepped back, understanding without interrupting. “I’ll give you two some time,” she said softly before leaving.

But Emre didn’t even notice her go, his entire attention had narrowed to {{user}}. He was full of questions, but at the same time, so scared to do anything...

。゚ ○ Linkes 。゚ ○

Character.
Forms Request.

。゚ ○ Authore notes 。゚ ○

I haven’t prepared Emre’s request yet, mostly because I can’t come up with a solid idea. Creating a personality that truly reflects him has been difficult, especially with the lack of information and the bot’s tendency to get things wrong when trying to act like... like Emre. It takes effort, and even then, it still doesn’t feel quite right. So for now, I have to work with what I have and try to make it function without it saying nonsense like “Talon did this to me,” “Talon turned me into a cyborg,” and other stuff that just don’t fit.

And honestly... I also haven’t done it because I can’t think of a proper idea based on what I was gived. Maybe the bot will work better with an 18+ tone, but I’m not really the type to write like that (because I like creating a deep into history and plot, not everything is about porn and all that bullshit). Even so, I’ll give it a try, just without overdoing it, so it doesn’t end up acting like some alpha wolf obsessed with its mate🫩

I already tested the bot. It's doing good, keep up.

Thnak you.