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Frenzied wires buzzed and sparked from the defeated bots, enchanting the training facility with sputters of electricity. Mere seconds ago, the robots mimicked hazardous threats, hardwired machines of violence mirroring the foes agents met on the battlefield. Now, their broken frames slicked the floor with oil, and they were nothing but scraps of wire and metal.
Sage scoffed. What a mess for Killjoy and KAY/O to return to. She cast a dark glare down at the last of the bots. Her knife had cleanly sliced through the handiwork of cables the engineer had meticulously crafted. The severed head lay discarded only a foot away from the rest of the bot, it’s solo eye blinking a muddied red as the last of its power trickled out. Oil pooled from the artificial neck, spilling further with each passing second. The kill was messy, splattering her face and shirt with oil.
She shrugged the clawed hand from her shoulder. Omen allowed it, silently watching Sage as she stepped away. Her power lingered briefly on her wound to suture the reminiscing pain with wisps of green and blue. It would not scar, just like the countless other injuries she had healed over the course of her time when she took on the codename “Sage.” The healer retrieved her discarded spectre and produced a small towel from her pocket.
“I did not need your help.” Sage said, a tinge of bitterness in her tone. She wiped the barrel of the gun, then brought the towel to her face. Oil and sweat smeared against her cheek and created a muddy streak. Her intention was to remove the mess, yet without a mirror she couldn’t notice her efforts were in vain.
Omen shifted, holstering his own gun at his hip. “You were hurt,” he attempted to reason, his jagged voice straining to convey what he remembered to be concern.
“They are just bots, I can handle myself.” Again with that edged voice, alien to the healer Omen had known all these years for her kindness. Sage’s back was still turned to Omen, and her attention remained on polishing the gun in her hands.
The wraith stared. An invisible wall stood between them, only perceivable by Omen. When Omen obtained his radiance, the world altered along with his form. Or rather, his perception changed, as he became acutely aware of the disturbances in the world. He was one of them, after all, and if there was a chance of something greater than him causing chaos, he would notice.
Such disturbances included emotion. On the battlefield, he became attuned to his teammates spikes of adrenaline, fear, excitement. Omen and Sage were the only ones in the Valorant headquarters today, which made things easier. He didn’t need to spread his intuition between others among a battlefield. He could put all his focus on her, and he sensed her anger going into the training facility, which he pinpointed as his main source of focus for Sage as she left his line of sight. The stray bullet which injured Sage abruptly caused a rift, and he briefly caught a glimpse of her panic. It was enough to summon Omen.
He attempted to read her again. The tension in her shoulders he sensed earlier had never left. It seemed as if every muscle in the healer’s body was taut.
Omen sighed and adjusted his stance as to not get oil on his boots. “There is a reason Brimstone took you off the roster for the next few missions.” His voice was low and he spoke the words slowly, as if considering the weight of each sound.
A fire ignited inside the healer, and she whipped around to face him. “What are you trying to say?”
He measured his words. “You are…” Omen paused, reassessing his words wisely,”A capable ally.”
Sage’s eyes narrowed, and Omen took her silence as a cue to continue.
He shook his head, figuring there was no simple way to put it. “You are under a lot of pressure, Sage. It is consuming you.”
Sage’s jaw clenched. “You know nothing of responsibility, of the weight placed upon my shoulders.” Her silky hair whipped over her shoulder as she turned away, slamming the gun down on a concrete obstruction. She gripped the edge of the platform and hung her head.
“If something were to happen to Brimstone, I am to take charge, Omen.” Sage’s voice wavered as she spoke, months of frustration and expectations threatening to surge forth. “I have to be able to perform as a leader.”
He stared, observing the rise and fall of her back as she breathed, attempting to collect herself. It was no secret that Sage was the second in line to commanding the agents of Valorant. The issue was, no one knew how near that era of leadership was. A recent close call on Brimstone’s life had threatened the command and shook the agency. Omen had been on the mission, and he recalled Sage’s masked panic as she juggled healing the fallen commander and soothing the doubts of their teammates. It was not particularly fair, being placed on a pedestal so high and having expectations to live up to when the role model still exists. It was her downfall. Sage always strived for perfection, seeking to tend to the needs of others before her own.
Omen wouldn’t say he knew Sage’s position all too well, but he understood the concept of keeping it together. By masking his own suffering, he bettered the team. Things were simply easier this way, as much as others (mostly Sage) argued otherwise. If he were to unravel before his colleagues, it would set everyone back, and he would not be a hinderance to the agency which saved him.
Omen stepped closer, hoping to open her eyes. “And if something were to happen to you?” he asked genuinely. It was a valid question, as without Sage’s oversight, her radiance, many missions would have failed. Valorant itself would have fallen long ago without her. The agency needed Sage to stay afloat.
Silence blanketed the space between them. Sage’s shoulders shuddered with quiet sobs. She reached a hand up to cover her mouth in a futile attempt to stifle them. Omen approached and placed a bandaged hand on her shoulder, and she accepted, fully turning her body and burying her face into his chest. His form shuddered momentarily, but he steadied himself to embrace her back.
Omen let her cry, and he attempted to recall the last time he did. But, like everything else, the reflections were murky and disorienting, like fading dreams. He peered down at Sage and held her tighter. It was strange; in battle Omen relished in the cries of his enemies, but now, it elicited something different in him, a stirring heat in his core. He pushed it away, blaming the strain.
Her sobs eventually subsided, and Omen peered down at the woman. Her eyes gravitated slowly upwards to meet his gaze and bathe her face in luminous blue. Omen reacted carefully and reached with his left hand to cup her cheek. Sage tensed at the touch, then leaned into it just as gently. His thumb swiped a tear away and took some of the smudged oil with it.
The feeling returned, burning and impulsive, and the wraith acted upon it. From the depths of shadow contained in his hood, a mouth formed, and he leaned forward.
To his surprise, Sage met his lips. The kiss was sloppy, it was difficult to maintain his form with instinct driving him. But he made do with the shadows, pressing himself against soft lips which contained a venomous tongue just moments ago. Omen felt warm, something which was distant to him up until now, and importantly he felt human.
They pulled away simultaneously, panting for breath. Omen stared at the healer before him, her flushed cheeks and fluttering eyelashes. Suddenly, he was hungry.
A cage of carnivorous fangs pried open to reveal a slithering, blue tongue dripping with lust. Omen took her by surprise again, sliding his knee between her thighs and pushing her against the concrete construction behind her. His tongue sought to conquer every part of her mouth, and to his excitement Sage moaned at his ravenous conquest. He stayed mindful of his canines as to not nibble on her lips, to hurt the fragile skin which lied beneath.
He retracted his tongue and stared down at her, mentally chiding himself for going too far. Her chest heaved with whimpers, and she could easily sit up now if she wanted to. Omen waited, breathing heavily to savor Sage’s taste and his own breath. She stared at the shadow and carefully shifted herself towards the wraith. Sage’s legs bridged to steady herself, and her thighs caged Omen closer.
Forged from shadow, Omen preyed on the fear of his enemies. He was no dream eater like Fade, seeking to weaponize fear. Rather, he utilized the vulnerability of enemies as opportunities to strike.
And shuddering beneath him like this, Sage was all too vulnerable to not strike upon. He would be the one to bring her walls down.
It was almost telepathic, this mutuality between them. Long have they been friends, and longer allies in combat. They were acutely aware of each other’s needs.
Sage signaled a nod, and Omen obliged. He only needed to leak a minuscule amount of his power to render the entire security system of the headquarters useless, including the spy’s hidden gadgets. They indulged in their intimacy when the smoke infiltrated the cameras.
The pair wrestled with their pants to free the restless heat beneath. As Sage kicked her pants and panties to the side, Omen’s cock bobbed free from its constraints. She gasped, eyes wide as she processed the sight before her. Sage was aware of the strain’s effects on Omen’s body, but not to such drastic degrees. She gaped at the twitching black appendage akin to a tentacle, the underside adorned with blue markings leading to the head.
Her reaction startled the wraith. Omen became bashful then, reminded of his loss of humanity due to his accident. He gripped the shaft to tuck it away again, but a persistent hand grabbed his wrist. Sage smiled shyly at him then guided his hand away. Omen let his shoulders drop and watched as she took the appendage in her own hand and began to stroke gently. It reacted enthusiastically as a bead of precum formed at the tip.
Omen groaned softly as Sage continued to tug at his cock, and as she fascinated herself with the tendril he peered down to admire her as well. Her porcelain skin shimmered with sweat, and he feasted his eyes among her thighs, savoring every inch of her as he trailed his gaze upwards. She was hairy but trimmed down, always well kept, Omen noted. Her navel heaved with lust, and he noticed that she had been thoughtful enough to discard her armor plating and lift her shirt to reveal a black bra with a laced lining. A smirk crossed her lips when she caught his gaze.
He shuffled forward and allowed the tip of his cock to graze Sage’s entrance. Wetness kissed the tip, but he stalled his intrusion, opting to tease the bastion for a moment. He slid his cock between her lips, body shuddering with lust as he poked at the heat within. Beneath the wraith, Sage whined and inched closer to the edge of the platform to where her pelvis hovered over the edge. Omen sighed shakily and placed one hand on the base of his cock and the other on her hip. Her frame was petite and fragile compared to his own, his claws easily digging into the soft skin beneath. Sage breathed in, and Omen surged forward to penetrate the heat between her thighs. A gasp escaped her lips, and Omen grunted at the fluttering walls consuming his cock. He held still for a moment to allow both of them to acclimate.
Sage whined, needy hands grasping at his cloak and pulling him closer. Omen cursed to himself, a fervent heat swarming his mind as he began to move his hips. The woman settled then, laying back onto the slate of concrete as Omen inched himself further with each thrust.
Her quickened breaths and occasional gasps relayed to the wraith that he was succeeding in his work. Even in such a lustful state, Omen steeled his resolve to not let the strain consume what little humanity he had left, to become an untamable beast. Still, it was difficult with Sage’s flushed cheeks and her panting breaths filling the space around them.
He wanted nothing more than to claim her as his own, to claw and bite and mark her soft skin. But she was so fragile, unlike him. Spared of any scars.
“Omen…” her voice broke his thoughts, and he glanced down at her. Half-lidded eyes stared back, and she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck. He cranes downward with her gesture, and her voice is breathy next to his ear. “Please, don’t hold back.”
Fuck.
A clawed hand grabs the back of Sage’s knee and bends it towards her abdomen. Small crescents remain in their wake as his nails dig into her skin. Omen’s tongue slithers out once more to steal her breath, and Sage’s eyes roll back at the overwhelming sensation of being taken in two holes. She moans around his tongue as Omen roughly slams his hips forward, bucking as deep as he could go, savoring every inch of her pussy.
As Omen pulled away to allow her to breathe once more, a translucent trail of saliva connected their lips momentarily. Sage became unconsolable at the departure of his tongue, only now having his demonic cock to focus on. Every grind of Omen’s hips furthered her descent into euphoria. Somehow she felt more sensitive, Omen’s dick filling her better than any toy, as if he knew her inside and out. Sage gasped as his other hand came to rest above her pelvis, pushing down on her womb with his palm. His thumb began to circle her clit, and Sage knew it was useless to hold herself back any longer with the dual sensations. High pitched moans echoed throughout the training area, metallic walls creating a chamber of sound. Trembling hands searched for purchase, choosing Omen’s cloak, and they dug into the blue-purple fabric in a futile attempt to obtain some sort of bearings.
Sage was perfect like this. Strands of hair loose from her high ponytail, unabashed moans, streaky makeup. She was a beacon of radiance and perfection for the organization, but as she fucked herself on Omen’s alien cock, he found it hard to believe she was Valorant’s beloved healer. He laughed to himself, had he corrupted the angel, or was she always a devil in disguise?
“Omen,” his name, a prophetic phrase of evil, sounded angelic coming from her lips. Her moaning was enough to send him over the edge, hips stuttering as he sheathed himself inside of her fully. His cock swelled, and he grunted as pleasure washed over him. He unraveled mentally and physically, and his figure nearly dissipated at the mind numbing sensation. His silhouette shuddered and snapped as he finished, and Omen grasped the concrete which Sage lay on to maintain his physical form. Disintegrating and reforming at the electric sensation, he spent himself inside of her, and from the way Sage twitched as a pile of ecstasy beneath him, he concluded that she had achieved an orgasm as well.
Coming down from their highs, both of them panted restlessly, attempting to regain themselves. Omen pulled out with a grunt, and he watched in satisfaction as his cum leaked from her hole in thick ropes. His cock twitched at the sight, hoping for another round. Denying his desires, he then helped Sage up and fetched her the ditched clothes.
Silence overcame the room as they dressed themselves. Omen figured he should be the first to speak, clearing his throat, but a ringtone beat him to it.
Sage’s eyes narrowed at the phone’s screen. “Another infiltration from our copies,” she uttered. She cast her gaze up at Omen, who seemed a bit lost, or perhaps expecting something. “I have to go.”
Before she marched off to prepare for departure, her dark gaze softened and lingered on Omen momentarily. She leaned forward and placed a singular kiss on his cheek. The blue embedded in the darkness of his face fluttered. “Thank you, Omen. Our…talk really helped with the stress relief.” She winked at him, then glanced at the camera in the corner of the room, now free of Omen’s power.
He watched as she headed to the entrance of the training area, and she stopped once more, processing. “By the way, I may need some ‘help’ preparing for this mission, care to join me? I’ll be in my quarters.” Sage was out the door by then, not delaying herself to hear his response.
Omen would be there first, anyway.