An Overwatch Transformation Story
(Women to Various)



“It has been thirty minutes since we’ve last heard from Tracer.” Brigitte gripped her flail a little tighter, an anxious sweat beading on her brow. Her armored footsteps were loud, too loud in her ears. This factory might have been abandoned, but that didn’t mean her nerves weren’t on edge. This was supposed to be her first mission, and already things were going awry.

“Five, Miss Lindholm.” Mercy looked to her, a smile on her face. “I’ve been with Lena since the Omnic Crisis, and you’ll have to take my word for this: she can handle herself.” The doctor’s smile was confident, but Brigitte had a knack for reading people. She knew that Mercy was as worried as she was.

“You know, I’ve fought against omnics too.” D.Va piped up from beside the two, looking uncharacteristically small without her MEKA. She’d left the battlesuit outside the entrance on standby, is massive frame quietly watching their backs. “And I have to agree with Brigs here. When things are quiet, things are wrong.”

“You’re worrying her.” Mercy spoke harshly, a little too harshly.

Brigitte realized how much stress she must be under as the squad’s commander, and she clasped the woman’s shoulder gently. “Do not worry. Papa and my father have trained me well. If anything goes wrong, I will be your shield.”

The blonde looked to her with surprise, before her features softened. “As you were, Miss Lindholm. I trust we’ll have no need for any heroics today. Be more like your father, and not… Well, not like ‘Papa’.”

A harsh squeal interrupted the tender moment, piercing through their comms. D.Va was the first to act, her blaster in her hands. “Enemy scrambling!” She called, checking down the sights of her weapon. “Watch out, that’s how ORs initiate a battle!”

Mercy didn’t lift her own weapon. Instead, she held out her datapad, eyes frantically scanning its text. “That wasn’t interference, that sound was organic. It’s Lena.” She set of fat a spring, and Brigitte had to hurry to follow.

 

They found her five minutes later, and wished that they hadn’t. The Englishwoman had been attached to some sort of tube, a brackish slop pouring from it into her mouth. Her body was clearly affected by this, fat overtaking a once-athletic frame. She’d doubled, if not tripled in size, every inch of her body exposed to the team.

She was naked, owing in no small part to the fattening of her form. She was hard to look at, for other reasons entirely. Her body wasn’t human anymore, not entirely. It looked like her nose had been upturned, and her ears were long and floppy. Worse, her delicate hands and feet were now just trotters.

“She looks like… Some sort of pig.” Brigitte mumbled in stunned shock, looking down to woman she’d once looked up to. The shattered remnants of Tracer’s chestplate sparked on the ground, and the girl looked towards her two squadmates. “And how is she still anchored in this time-space?”

“She’s too fat, maybe?” D.Va asked, wincing as Brigitte sent her a stern glare.

Mercy cut off the Swedish girl’s reply. “Hana is correct. Much like how she can be anchored in time by simple traps, her body loses its temporal curse when it gains mass. Normally, her metabolism compensates, but…”

“Enough theorizing!” Brigitte exclaimed, her eyes meeting Tracer’s, seeing the pleading terror in the girl’s blue gaze. The Swedish squire triggered the rockets on her flail, sending it towards the feeding station and shattering it.

Tracer fell onto her trotters with a loud clop, her fat body jiggling. Slop dribbled from past her lips as they began to thicken, and she looked up to her friends in time for her face to distend. “He-rrnt-lp mreeEEE!” She squealed, her snout growing into a blunt porcine muzzle.

Actinic lights flared to life, their brightness stabbing into the womens’ eyes. They shielded their gazes, and by the time their vision cleared, Tracer was more pig than woman, a curly tail having grown from her spine and much of her hair having fallen from her head.

++SYSTEMS ONLINE++

A loud, female voice echoed through the factory, and D.Va looked to Brigitte angrily. “Nice job, rookie! You’ve woken the place up!”

++Now now, that’s not nice. Miss Lindholm here was just trying to free her friend, isn’t that right?++

The voice now spoke at a reasonable tone, a smooth and flowing Greek accent coming crisp and clear to the women’s ears. D.Va was particularly frightened by this, her pistol shaking in her hands. “God Omnic…” She muttered, pupils shrunken in fear.

++God… That’s an amusing one. Perhaps Goddess, perhaps not. I have no real qualms with life, like Anubis did-no grievances with organic beings like Loki.++

Mercy looked back to Tracer, watching as the girl completed her changed into a fat, clumsy sow. Intelligence drained from the girl’s eyes, and Mercy could somehow tell that the woman named Lena Oxton was gone. The squad leader looked up to the floodlights, a frown on her face. “Then why this? Why did you do this to Lena?”

++Because it’s people that ruin the world, not life-just human life. So, rather than starting a second Omnic Crisis, I thought it better to… Well, solve humanity.++

D.Va screamed, making Brigitte flinch at the sound. She turned towards the Korean girl, watching as the girl frantically tapped the control panel on her wrist. In a way, Brigitte could sympathize with her. She knew that D.Va’s homeland had been devastated during the Crisis, almost eradicated by one such ‘God A.I.’. That said, she also knew that the girl was calling in her MEKA.

“Mercy!” Brigitte called, flaring her energy barrier to life. She crossed the space between her and the blonde team leader in a matter of seconds, and lifted her arm in time to deflect a piece of broken masonry.

D.Va’s pink MEKA, demonstrated why despite its appearance, it was a Korean war machine. The squealing pig that Tracer had become bolted as the heavy suit crashed through the factory’s ceiling as though it was made of cardboard, landing in front of D.Va with an earth-shaking thud.

No, it was more than earth-shaking: it was earth-breaking. Cracks spiderwebbed around the MEKA’s feet as D.Va climbed into it, shouting something in Korean that Brigitte didn’t understand, or even hear fully. Then the ground gave way beneath her feet, and she screamed as she fell into the floor below, then crashed through that in turn, and the one below that as well.

++Oops.++

 

Brigitte’s flail served as an impriomptu grapple, and Mercy could use the gliding systems built into her armor, descending on glowing ‘wings’. They passed through what looked like an aviary, then a grassy plain. Below the factory’s surface were floors of artificial land, populated by the appropriate animal life.

++As you can see, your dear friend Lena will be well at home here. I’d imagine that she’ll enjoy living on our farm simulation.++

Of course, the damnable A.I. mocked them every foot they descended. Brigitte’s already stressed nerves frayed further, and she almost laughed with relief as they finally caught sight of D.Va. They’d descended through five sets of holes in total, arriving at a place that looked less like a terrarium and more like the factory they’d first entered.

D.Va’s MEKA had fallen through a large tanker of what had to be milk, its cockpit still visible through the cream. A wet trail led to D.Va’s hunched body, and Brigitte slung towards the girl, her boots thumping against the ground.

“D.Va! Hana! Are you okay?” Brigitte asked, concern spreading across her features as she approached the pilot.

“No… Noo…” D.Va rocked gently in place, her hands around her stomach. D.Va gently placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder, and the Korean turned to reveal she was hugging a pink, swollen udder. D.Va’s tongue hung well past her chin as she met Brigitte’s eyes, her own dark orbs utterly vacant. “MOOO!”

Brigitte flinched, backing away from the girl as changes began to ripple along her form. D.Va’s hips and shoulders bulged, shearing through the latex of her jumpsuit in a matter of seconds. The girl grunted and gasped as her body changed, growing larger and larger and larger still.

++Ooh, she’s had the special milk. You know, I’ve often wondered what that would do to a human. On cows, it lets them become quite productive.++

“Screw you!” Brigitte shouted to the ceiling, uncaring of the fact that it made her seem insane. She turned her attention back towards D.Va, watching as the girl pawed at her udder with both hands, dopily smiling as she began to milk herself.

Cream splashed from the girl’s swollen udder, and she moaned, her nose growing large and flat on her face. White fur forced the hair from her scalp, and the strands fluttered to the ground around her as her body continued to shift further and further from human.

In seconds, D.Va was pressing hooves to her udder, struggling to milk herself with the clumsy things. Her ears flicked with distress as she dopily lowed, falling onto her fat ass and jiggling her full udder. She looked pleadingly up to Brigitte, not like how a friend looks at another but like a cow looks at a farmer.

“Okay, I’ll help. It’s okay, I’m here.” Brigitte spoke calmly, having been around enough animals in her travels to know how to placate them. Animals! The thought of it was almost laughable, that she was approaching an Overwatch patient as she would a steer.

Then a firm hadn gripped her shoulder, and Brigitte paused. She looked up to Mercy, watching the woman slowly shake her head. “We can’t. I know it sounds cruel, but… Milk did this to her. I know it sounds cruel, but…”

“Cruel?” Brigitte gasped, looking back to D.Va, now little more than a hefty Holstein. “She was one of us! Are you telling me I can’t at least help her?” She broke free of Mercy’s grasp, reaching out to D.Va’s udder.

The impact of a plasma bolt on her back sent a warning rune across her armor, and the crack of its firing brought D.Va to all fours, mooing in fear and stumbling from the women. Brigitte slowly turned towards Mercy, her eyes steeled.

Then she saw the fear in the woman’s eyes. “I almost died in London.” Mercy shakily spoke, her smoking gun trembling in her hands. “Your Papa and father are the only reason I’m here, I’m not… I’m not able to do this on my own. I need you to get out of here, to warn our friends, to warn our family. I can’t do this without you.”

Whatever Brigitte was about to say died on her lips, and she looked to Mercy with a slow nod. “We’ll discuss the damage to my armor later.”

Mercy wiped at her eyes with her hand, shakily returning to her pistol to its holster. “I’m sorry, it’s an old habit. It was the only way I could keep your Papa from charging off into-”

“Reckless heroics?” Brigitte finished the thought, and the women shared a moment’s peace, chuckling. Then the God A.I. spoke.

++You can’t possibly think your escape will be easy. You’ll change, just like them.++

 

It was three floors before the A.I. made good on its words. Brigitte had expected omnics, or even mutants to attack them. She hadn’t expected her suit’s proximity sensors to detect a horde of rabbits. It was almost comedic, were they not terrifying for their sheer volume.

“Get ready to anchor to me.” Brigitte looked back to Mercy, whose wings flicked to attention. The woman had used too much of her suit’s battery descending to find D.Va, she couldn’t ascend of her own volition. However, Mercy could certainly glide up to Brigitte if the girl could manage to climb to safety.

Brigitte’s shield flared to life as she turned towards a nearby wall. It had a hard, jutting corner-the perfect thing to catch the reflective edges of her barrier onto. The girl dashed towards the wall, and her hard light barrier caught against the strut. It bent slightly to the metal before flaring to life, straightening itself and in the process popping Brigitte into the air.

The girl grabbed onto a catwalk with a huff, grunting as her gauntlet caught the railing. Then she looked down to Mercy and despaired. Brigitte had acted as quickly as she could, but it wasn’t fast enough. The horde of bunnies had coalesced around the medic, swarming over her, changing her with their presence.

Whiskers forced themselves from Mercy’s puffed cheeks, and the woman’s ears grew long and floppy, hanging at the sides of her head. She opened her mouth, revealing bucked incisors, and squealed out to Brigitte. “Warn Overwatch! Tell them about the A.EEK! EEEK!”

Her pink nose twitched, and Mercy looked down to a nearby rabbit. Her gaze was clouding, and she cupped the animal in her hands, petting its ears for a moment. Then she shook her head, flopping her ears, struggling to regain composure.

“Brig… BrigEEtte…” Mercy fumbled, her head lolling as her copious intelligence drained from her eyes. “Tell… EEE… Tell… SorrEEE!” She squealed, shrinking, descending into the mass of writhing animals. The woman’s armor clattered emptily to the ground as she shrank back into her suit, and a few seconds later a rabbit hopped out from its confines, her white ears twitching.

The rabbit presented her cotton tail towards the nearby rabbits, and Brigitte turned from the scene. She didn’t need to see it, and hearing it was bad enough. The girl grit her teeth, lifting her armored body onto the railing.

++One to go.++

 

Thirty minutes passed, long moments of silence interrupted only by the A.I.’s incessantly glib voice.

++You know, I don’t think I’ll change you. I think I quite like you, Miss Lindholm. You’re my new favorite.++

Brigitte kept her gaze fixed ahead, trying to trace a map of the place in her head. It wasn’t any use, she was good with schematics but bad with directions, always had been. The girl cursed and pounded her gauntleted fist against a wall, her heart clenching in her chest.

The motion dislodged a panel from the wall, which fell to the ground with a clatter. That evoked a reaction, sudden and immediate.

++NO! Don’t go in there! I mean it!++

Brigitte snorted with derision, duly ignoring the warning. “If you’re warning me about it, then I simply have to try it.” The girl chuckled. She crawled into the space, looking out to a large duct. It was probably the cooling system for the plant, which meant that it would eventually lead to the outside.

That was the theory, anyways.

++No, please come out. Brigitte? Brigs? That’s what Hana called you, right? Bri…++

The best part about crawling into the vent was that there weren’t speakers inside it. The A.I.’s voice was reduced to silence as Brigitte crawled further into the tunnel, smiling with relief. “Well, something had to go my way.” She began.

Then the floor fell from her, and she fell onto a long conveyor. Mechanical arms gripped at her hands and feet, anchoring her in place.

++FOREIGN OBJECTS DETECTED++

It was the same voice she’d first heard, a grating mechanical speaker with no intelligence behind it. Brigitte struggled at her restraints, hissing at them as she struggled to extricate herself.

++Oh, I’m sorry about this… You know, I did warn you. Seriously, no irony-I fully intended for you to escape.++

The A.I. spoke to her again, a mechanical arm lowering a screen before Brigitte’s face. A portait of a woman that wouldn’t look out of place on an Attic Greek vase sternly looked to Brigitte, pouting.

“”What’s going on? What’s happening?” Brigitte entertained the A.I., if only to buy herself time to escape. More arms lowered themselves towards Brigitte, laser cutters making short work of the girl’s armor, scissored blades dispensing of her clothing.

++Automated subroutine, I’m afraid. I could stop it, but… Well, I won’t.++

Brigitte looked down to her naked body, then up to the screen in disbelief. “What the hell kind of automated process strips a person?” She winced as she shears worked their way along her scalp, cutting the hair from her head far neater than any barber she’d had in her life. “And what kind shaves them?”

++The kind that’s not meant for people.++

++SHEARING ERROR. MINIMAL FUR DETECTED. APPLYING CATALYTIC CONDITIONER.++

Brigitte whimpered as a cold gel was squirted onto her body, the conveyor carrying her towards its next destination. Here, rubber hands worked their way along her body, massaging her form from head to toe, working the conditioner into her skin.

Its effects were rapid and unwelcome. Brigitte could feel herself starting to itch all over as coarse fur sprouted from her skin, wool curling out from her shaved pores. It left her overly warm, and sweat soon dripped from Brigitte’s head.

Then the conditioner was worked into that too, and she lost the ability to sweat. The girl could feel herself changing, a numb chemical burning all along her body. It was like a menthol ointment being rubbed over her pores, cool and warm at the same time.

“Was this what the others felt?” She mused aloud, grunting as her body began to change in earnest. The changes were numb, and it was like watching them happen to another person. She watched as her hands coalesced into hooves, as her feet shrank down into hooves.

Her toned arms and legs became slim and slender, perfect for supporting an ovinized body. Her ears twitched as they lengthened-she could feel them flicking, but not feel them changing. Most noticeably of all, her eyes slid to the sides of her skull as her snout stretched into its new position.

“Aaah-aah!” She bleated, her throat sore. “Naa-aa-aah! Aaa-aahm Braah-gaaah-taah!” Her voice was unable to pronounce her own name, and tears dewed at her eyes. The machine released her arms and legs, and she rolled onto her hooves, hating how natural it felt.

There was light at the end of the conveyor, and Brigitte stumbled towards it clumsily, feeling her breasts pull down towards her crotch, forming a sheep’s udder. A sheep-it was horrifying to think she was becoming such a vapid animal, but she couldn’t deny what was coming. Right now, all she could do was hope the light led to an escape.

The girl stumbled from the conveyor, blinking at the warm glare of light. It felt like sun, and looked like it. Were it not for the fact that she was several floors underground, she’d almost be able to believe it. The sheep lowered her head from the sun, finding grass below herself.

The conveyor retracted from behind her as she took a tentative bite, chewing on it and finding it much to her liking. Her teeth flattened in her muzzle as she chewed, and her tongue swelled to a thick ovine proportion.

Then she shook her head, bleating in distress. “AAah-aah-aah!” No! She wasn’t an animal, she didn’t eat grass. She was Brigitte Lindholm, a member of… She couldn’t remember the name. She couldn’t remember the names of the humans she’d been with-not humans, women. Women like her. She was Brigitte Lind… Lind…

“BAAHAAHAAH!” Brigitte sobbed, pawing her hooves against her head, feeling her body barrel out to a proper sheepy proportion. She grunted and gasped, drooling onto the ground and feeling her intellect drip out with it.

She wasn’t dumb, was engineereyperson, was Brigbrig, Brig…

The sheep blinked her eyes as her mind rapidly dwindled away into nothingness, and only an animal remained. Her owner’s smooth female voice called out to her, but she didn’t understand the words. Instead, she returned to grazing, the fresh taste of grass in her mouth reminding the girl of what she’d been doing.

 

++Damn. I really wanted her to escape.++

Mechanical hands sifted through the sheared wool, removing bits of armored plate and shorn clothing. They extracted a small communicator from it, connecting to the device and sending out a distress call.

++Now I have to do things myself… How best to word it?++

The A.I. overwrote the security of the device, cracking through the simple Overwatch framework and even the complex Talon Trojan subroutines buried deep within the code. It extracted every communication line to either party, then broadcast a distress call.

++‘If you wish to find what happened to Overwatch Team Echo-Seven-Nine, then head to Aeaea. The coordinates are as follows.’++

Simple, effective. The A.I. looked out from uncountable cameras, watching a pig eat at spilled slop, a cow stampede through the milk containment facilities, a bunny exceed average breeding capacity, and a sheep consume grass. It looked forward to its next visitors.