Wasn't a pretty sight under that mask, scars he had before were few and now, well. The explosion and whatever Angela had done to try and revive him left their marks; still recognizable as that dead man, but it was clear something had gone terribly wrong. The mask was better to wear than not, but he needed nothing in his way with this-

Of course Reaper was silent when McCree started, not glancing up as he carefully removed plates so he could get at wiring easier. Wiping off that pink gunk along the way, glancing up briefly as he kept his expression unreadable.

Best he could, anyway. "You left, bit late to think about that now." Voice calm and level, not so muffled with the mask set there on the table within reach, empty sockets staring at the ceiling. Still a growl to his tone, hadn't that always been there? The smoke curling from skin hadn't, or the way some twisted with his words. "Forgotten. Left to suffer. Dead.

"Just the monster of Overwatch's own creation left," and he'd have his justice.