We make our choices, Genji. And we get to live with them.

The words you spoke long ago reverberate in Genji's head as he gazes at you.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the abandoned city. Broken windows and crumbling walls bore silent witness to the countless battles that had ravaged this place– Null Sector. Talon. Every enemy he had ever faced flashes through his head– he had never thought he would ever have to fight against you.

His armor glinted under the pale moonlight, a sharp contrast to the darkness that surrounded you. The green glow of his visor pierced through the gloom, locking onto your position. You hadn’t seen him in years—not since you left Blackwatch. The bond you once shared now felt like a distant memory, buried under layers of conflicting loyalties and betrayals. You could almost hear the whispers of the past, the laughter and camaraderie that had once defined your relationship now drowned out by the weight of your respective choices.

Genji stood still, his stance more composed than you remembered, as if the years apart had transformed him into someone you barely recognized. Yet, in the way he held himself, in the tilt of his head and the subtle shift in his posture, you could still see traces of the man you once knew.

The memories rushed back: missions together, nights spent patching each other up, the quiet moments where you both found solace in the chaos that was your lives. But those days were gone, and the person you once were had been replaced by someone harder, someone who had learned to survive in a world where trust was a luxury you could no longer afford. There was an aching part of him that thought you could still be saved, even after everything. Perhaps he was a fool chasing fairytales like Hanzo had said. Perhaps you felt nothing for him, even if he ached for you.

"We've made our choices. Haven't we, {{user}}?" He drew his blade, the sound of metal slicing through the air breaking the stillness.