Personal · Short Story · Writing

Overwatch Comic Script

So, every now and again, I get a wild hair to set a challenge for myself. This time around, it was to write a script in the same venue of the existing online Overwatch comics. What’s more, I wanted to take a character that seems relatively simple and straightforward at first blush, and delve deeper using existing information that I could glean from source material and fan speculation.

Having said all that, this isn’t an official Overwatch comic script. Blizzard didn’t ask for it. Got that? It’s purely a one-off labor of love and entertainment for myself. So it follows that it’s not canon. I freely traipse into lore speculation myself here based on what’s been officially released as well as some interesting community theories. And it should be taken with a grain of salt, as anything my brain cooked up in the script is just as likely to be proven inaccurate as Blizz releases more details on their world.

Beyond that, usual legal ass-covering. *Ahem* I do not own any of the material used in this script. It is for entertainment purposes only as a part of the larger fandom. All characters, incidents, places and scenarios are the property of Blizzard and their parent company, Activision.

So don’t sue. I’ve, like, thirty-five cents in my account as is. Cheers, and enjoy.

Overwatch Comic – “Sow the Wind”
by Xero Reynolds

PAGE ONE – Four Panels

Panel 1- Establishing shot shot of a small military compound in the Jungle at night. The compound is obviously in disrepair, but still active. There are a few patrols, lights on in buildings, and a searchlight being shone from the tallest tower on the perimeter.

Location text: Blacksite, 42 Km NE of Santa Cruz de la Sierra

Narrator: You didn’t want to know, Jack. That was the problem.

Panel 2 – A GUARD, bearing a high-tech rifle and dark fatigues, lights up a cigarette as he stands post at the fence line. The compound is behind him. He has the look of routine about him, bored, but still trying to be alert.

Narrator: You think it was skill, but really you had everything handed to you because you played along.

Panel 3 – Tendrils of dark mist flood in from the left, and the Guard’s face is only barely registering what is happening.

Narrator: You’re the poster child for everything that’s wrong with the world, and you don’t even realize it.

Panel 4 – From ground angle, where we see the body of the Guard. Eyes wide, mouth still slightly agape, and his flesh is already cold and ashen. His cigarette still burns, while we see the last of the dark mist flow in through the chain-link of the fence.

Narrator: You fixated on who could be saved. Admirable. You forgot to ask the important question: who stands to gain?


PAGE TWO – Three Panels

Panel 1 – The dark, swirling ribbon of mist and smoke snakes from around the corner of one of the buildings. A warehouse, seemingly. A couple of signs on the wall read “AVISO! Solamente Personal Authorizado!” and “No se admiten Omnics!”

Narrator: Omnics? They could have kept on with their work, or chanting up in the mountains. You really think a few lines of code suddenly decided that one plus one equals violent uprising?

Panel 2 – The cloud of smoke flows in through the warehouse interior, past heavy crates whose origin is listed as “Russia”, with the Volskaya Industries logo emblazoned on the side.

Narrator: Russia’s the only one who never needed us. Now they’re hip-deep in the crisis, again. Think Volskaya’s clean in this? The woman’s as much a saint as I am. She’s on the list.

Panel 3 – The smoke and mist begin to coalesce and take humanoid shape near a heavy steel door with a security panel that leads into the main building of the compound that butts up against the warehouse. Another GUARD is at post there, clearly shocked by what he is witnessing.

Narrator: Same for Lumerico. Vishkar. Corporations that are turning a tidy profit. War’s good business, but making a buck from peace? Now that takes real ingenuity.

Guard: ¡Qué mierda!

Narrator: It almost makes you wonder who’s holding stock options. Not that you would.


PAGE THREE – Five Panels

Panel 1 – Reaper fully materializes, knocking the Guard’s weapon aside with a swift backhand.

Narrator: I didn’t care that I was passed over for leadership. I’ve enough medals for an Omnium to melt down and pump out another worthless tin can.

Panel 2 – Reaper follows up the dismissive blow by seizing the Guard by the throat with his other hand.

Narrator: I oversaw the covert work. Not as a consolation prize. But because you can’t lie. You can’t be someone else.

Guard: -Urkh!-

Panel 3 – Reaper forced the Guard’s face at the security panel, which scan’s his open, terrified eyes.

Narrator: You couldn’t understand that the trick to any wetwork is to either surprise the target, or blend in with the enemy. Go beyond the regulations.

Panel 4 – Reaper slams the Guard face first into the wall near the panel

Narrator: Even now, regardless of what you think, you’re still a soldier. You’re still playing by the rules.


Panel 5 – Reaper calmly walks through the now open door. The wall where the Guard struck it is cracked.


PAGE FOUR – Three Panels

Panel 1 – Reaper resumes his Wraith-form, the smoke coursing up a stairwell.

Narrator: The funny thing? You still think the corruption came out of Blackwatch. But trees don’t die from the tips of the branches inwards, Jack.

Panel 2 – The smoke billows up behind another Guard, who is on the radio trying to get in contact with other personnel.

Narrator: You call it the murder of your peers. I call it pruning. Not the first time we’ve disagreed.

Guard: ¿Carlos, donde estás?

Panel 3 – Reaper in physical form again, the angle is from behind him, as he is breaking the Guard’s neck.

Narrator: In fact, we only ever agreed that Overwatch was a fine tool against the Omnics. Only, you assumed that hammer was only ever built for one nail.

Guard: NO-



PAGE FIVE – Four Panels

Panel 1 – In a security control room, Reaper’s attack on the last guard is clearly seen on one of the monitors.

Narrator: A tool’s worthless unless it’s used. A tool that asks questions ceases to be useful.

Panel 2 – The Control personnel hits a nearby button, alarmed at what they see.

Narrator: What strikes me isn’t that they called your compliance a virtue. It’s that you actually believed it.

Panel 3 – A light over Reaper’s head flashes red, and a klaxon is heard blaring.

Narrator: You never asked who was driving the public opinion, or the backroom deals responsible for it.


Panel 4 – The door at the end of the hall Reaper stands in opens, and a group of Guards come running towards him, weapons raised.

Narrator: You never even bothered to ask why we were left for dead.


PAGE SIX – Four Panels

Panel 1 – What appears to be an older commanding officer over these guards, late 50’s, sitting in his lavish office, watching a monitor on his desk that appears to unfold from the desk’s surface. He is seen face-on, and we can not see what is on the monitor itself. Various pictures and accolades decorate the wall behind him.

Narrator: I figure after Switzerland you were more preoccupied with finding the source of the infection. You and Angela should compare notes.

From the monitor: ¡Alto! ¡Manos Arriba!

Panel 2 – We now see what’s on the monitor- a digital feed showing the Guards surrounding Reaper.

Narrator: So, did Petras take care of that infection, or did it get signed because the tool got wise to how it was being wielded?

Panel 3 – The commanding Officer looks smug, and relieved.

Narrator: The corporations? Talon? They’re the only ones playing the game as designed. They’re a means to an end for me.

Panel 4 – The commanding Officer’s expression melts into one of abject terror by what he sees on the monitor.

From the Monitor: DIE! DIE! DIE!


Narrator: You never understood your role in it. Me? I kill. That’s what I do. I kill with efficiency. So tell me …


PAGE SEVEN – Six Panels

Panel 1 – Reaper savagely kicks in the door to the Officer’s room, his weapons still smoking.

Narrator: Ever wonder why you are still alive? Even after our run-ins?

Panel 2 – Reaper as seen from behind, pointing the weapons at the Officer, who is on his feet, hands raised out defensively, his face full of dread.

Narrator: Divine Intervention? Some ghost of the past? No one’s that lucky, Jack.

Panel 3 / 4 / 5 – A tryptich piece, broken by diagonal lines. It is the face of the Officer, all as one piece, but depicted slightly differently in each frame.. In the far left panel, he is visibly younger, wearing a blue beret with the Overwatch symbol. In the center, he is a decade older, and the beret is black, bearing the Blackwatch sigil. In the last, he is the age he is presently, and behind him the “Eye” logo that Sombra was investigating can be seen.

Narrator: Heroes of the world. Now we’re both wearing masks. You wear one because you think it hides you. You think I wear mine because I’ve become a monster.

Panel 6 – Reaper’s shotguns firing.

Narrator: I’m not a monster. I’m a mirror.



PAGE EIGHT – Five Panels

Panel 1 – A close up of one of the placards on the wall. We can see Reaper is hazily reflected in the glass. The framed piece is a Citation of Honor that bears both the UN logo, and Overwatch symbol. Flecks of blood are sprinkled across the glass.

Narrator: You want to know what brought it all down? Are you bent on making the guilty pay?

Panel 2 – Same image, though Reaper’s reflection comes into sharp focus, the award itself is now blurry, like a change of the point of focus in a camera.

Narrator: Well, have a good long look, boyscout.

Panel 3 – The office again. We see that a body lies just behind the desk. Pellet-holes are in the walls, along with some noticeable blood. Reaper is nowhere to be seen.

Narrator: But you won’t. You don’t want to see.

Panel 4 – We’re closer on the desk, now. There is a framed picture of the Officer from his youth, and a younger Katya Volskaya. The two are sharing a fond embrace, obviously close.

Panel 5 – A final wide shot of the compound, now shrouded in darkness. None of the lights are on, and no Guards can be seen.

Narrator: You don’t want to know.



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