Realistically, she knows what she isn't. Going into hiding, changing her name, embedding an entire arsenal of inorganic upgrades under her own skin— it's a testament to her limitations. If she were like Gabriel, like Amélie, none of those measures might been necessary; that she excels in spite of it keeps her from ever lamenting the fact (and the side effects of genetic modification? too messy for her tastes), but it's left her deceptively adhered to the idea of control. Over herself, her surroundings - exacerbating the innate itch she's always had to keep even her closest companions in check.
If she can't keep up, she'll make the logical choice and pass Cortana the keys. Until then, Sombra holds fast out of stubborn necessity, stalking impatiently towards their final destination.
Hopefully York's still alive by the time they arrive.
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Realistically, she knows what she isn't. Going into hiding, changing her name, embedding an entire arsenal of inorganic upgrades under her own skin— it's a testament to her limitations. If she were like Gabriel, like Amélie, none of those measures might been necessary; that she excels in spite of it keeps her from ever lamenting the fact (and the side effects of genetic modification? too messy for her tastes), but it's left her deceptively adhered to the idea of control. Over herself, her surroundings - exacerbating the innate itch she's always had to keep even her closest companions in check.
If she can't keep up, she'll make the logical choice and pass Cortana the keys. Until then, Sombra holds fast out of stubborn necessity, stalking impatiently towards their final destination.
Hopefully York's still alive by the time they arrive.