The page remained blank save for the title looming over the empty space.
On the opportunities opened by polysomatic tissue analysis, multispectral locomotion and induced regeneration in combined application
Ten fingers poised above the keyboard, desperately waiting for a command that simply would not come.
Her look wandered to the window, where a group of trees were gently swaying, basked in sunlight.
They offered no comfort, if anything they only increased the desparation and tension within, remembering her like a metronome how time was flying by while her own progress stood still.
Continuing their course, her eyes found a row of framed certificates, the small letters and pale pictures in stark contrast with the black wood of the frames.
All of them were granted to a particular Elani Mirscin and seemed to confirm that person's educational achievements in the fields of biology, biochemistry and medicine, an expertise which the very same woman had not been able to find during the last hour in front of the screen.
Elani's face turned grim as the mountains of effort and countless nights spent studying that had earned her those paper pieces surfaced in her memory. More time spent, at least it had given her the tools to reach her goal. The same went for the textbooks that had replaced the more mundane novels of her childhood in the bookshelf.
The white kept on taunting.
At last Elani arrived at a photo, leaning against the wall, small and unremarkable, the background a dull light-brown sandstone house front, the person in the middle somehow out of focus and blurry, despite the continuous improvements in smartphone camera technology.
And yet it filled her with a tremendous new strength.
The picture was taken a couple of months ago, in the middle of a Talon attack.
A stone's throw from her university, the terrorist organization had bombed a street, filled with traffic at the moment, shortly after taking hostages and barricading themselves in a nearby building, the car wrecks effectively slowing any ambulance and police advances and making them sitting ducks for the terrorists in elevated positions.
It was then, when the whole body of students and professors cowered behind closed doors, that Elani's professor of medicine held a rousing speech commemorating the Overwatch ideals and decided to go into the warzone beyond their doorstep and deliver first aid.
Remembering that day always evoked a terrible sense of dread that tightened her throat and threatened to freeze her entire body in place, the same as when Elani made a weighty decision.
Yet it was wiped away easily by a feeling of purpose and accomplishment as she, among four other students, abandoned their own instinct of self-preservation and scurried through the maze of steel, assisting those in need of medical attention, mostly with potent medication and devices that had not yet reached the market.
Among those a contraption developed by herself, portable and cappable of scanning any part of the body in matter of seconds and projecting three-dimensional high-resolution models of the tissue, perfect to save lives when time was of the essence.
Not a single life was lost that day.
Largely owed to the person on the blurry photo.
Elani moved out of the swivel chair, away from the mocking non-text and picked the image up from her nightstand. All her motivation ever since, condensed.
Tracer, the former Overwatch member, dashing away from the scene after taking out every single Talon unit singlehandedly and yet somehow managing do smile brightly back at her.
It also elicited a small, unidentifiable, but not at all unpleasant tug in Elani's guts.
On that day she found the purpose of her life.
Maybe Elani didn't have Tracer's incredible abilities, but that wouldn't stop her from being a hero in her own way.
Reinvigorated, she approached her laptop, filled with grim determination to write the paper that would give public attention to the fruit of the strenuous last few months and, with some luck, grant her the funding she needed to really make a difference.
At last the words came to Elani, gushing forth faster than she could type. This was her purpose, the essence of her being, the true product of her character, exactly how her life was supposed to be. Alleviation of the pains that came with life.
Then the phone rang, and Elani let out a howl of anger.
The current sentence stopped dead in its tracks, appearing ugly and jagged, like an open wound to her.
After her attempts to mentally crush the slim silvery plastic piece were to no avail, she pressed the handpiece to the side of her face and forced a "Yes please?" trough her teeth.
The young man's voice on the other end was so bright and cheerful it made her sick.
"Ah, a jolly good day to you! I am Mr. Winfried, representing the Not Over My Watch corporation.
And you are Miss Elani Mirscin, if my information is correct?"
Elani contemplated terminating the call at this exact moment by use of blunt force, but resorted to answering with a voice dripping with contempt.
"A particularly busy Miss Elani Mirscin. I'm not buying anything, especially not now."
The voice chattered back, so completely unabashed that only squeezing the plastic and pretending it was the caller's throat gave her the nerve to continue.
"My pardons, but this won't take more than a minute. And I'm convinced it will be in your interest, too."
After a clicking sound, static noise flooded the connection and Elani inspected her phone, eyebrow raised, thanking whatever stopped the petulant voice and at the same time hoping she had not broken the phone.
The LED's flashed erratically and lines of code scurried along the screen until the display showed a symbol she was sure had never appeared before, some circle containing an inverted V, a stylized padlock in the background.
Elani immediately moved the speaker back to her ear when a sound emerged, ire more and more replaced with curiosity.
The voice had changed, now far deeper and somehow sounding not quite human.
"Sorry about the extra security precautions, but you can never be careful enough these days."
Seconds passed. Elani absently seated herself on a storage box, unsure what to say and admittedly intrigued.
"A friend of mine has witnessed your actions on the 13th of March, and I myself have followed the progress of your prototype with interest.
Right now, you and your gear may fulfil a very important task."
At last Elani found her voice.
"Only four people know of my prototype, and none of them are the type who let confidential information slip easily.
So who the hell are you?"
A strange guttural sound that might have passed as a chuckle returned.
"Let's just say that Winfried and Not Over My Watch only missed by one and two syllables respectively. I'm sure you can figure out the rest yourself, you are a smart woman after all.
Anyway, you are in a position to save lives if you act quickly, albeit not without personal risk."
If not for that crucial information, she would've raised her voice again.
"Should chose to accept this mission, move to the following location."
Elani scrabbled for pen and paper as the voice continued.
As soon as the last number was written in ink, it added reassuringly "The world always is in need of heroes." and then left her staring at the lines in an eerie silence.
The largest part of her brain rejected the thought that she had just received a call from Overwatch.
The organisation's role in the Omnic Crysis, over thirty years ago, was well-known. They saved the world we valued, or at the very least many, many lives.
As was its disbandment in the recent past, after which all Overwatch activities were declared illegal, but that never stopped her from idolizing their actions.
Sure, there were rumors about the organization continuing its work in secrecy, but Elani had always seen such hearsay as a wishful thinking she shared, despite the scientist within her telling her only to believe what could be proven.
Then again, people don't tend to leave their past behind easily, Tracer was the living proof of that.
A small part of her brain, filled with giddy excitement, suddenly deemed the ongoing existance of Overwatch not too unlikely. You can't kill a dream with a law, after all. Reason can't contain emotions.
Pushing away that thought, Elani considered on.
Even if Overwatch still extisted, why on earth would they call out to her for help?
The 13th of March.
Her eyes shot back to the blurry photo with the date long past.
"I am no hero.", her own voice broke the silence, and she wished deeply it would not be a true statement. She was only a woman, maybe good enough to have a tiny effect on the life of others if the situation was just right.
Half a mind to shred the address note and continue writing on a text which now seemed considerably more dull, a new thought popped up in Elani's head.
A line from the professor's speech, now as impactful as it was in March.
Every day, we get to choose in what kind of world we want to live in, voting with our actions.
The quote lingered in her mind, wrestling with her own words, but ultimately coming out on top.
Again Elani's voice sounded, this time strong with a newfound surge of resolve that twisted her lips into a thin smile.
"But I may yet become one."
Mindful of the mentioned risk, Elani configured her laptop to send a copy of her prototype's blueprints to a colleague a week from now, no matter what might happen to her, this technical marvel would not be withheld from the world at any cost.
After preparing and collecting various bits and pieces of equipment, mixed with thoughts along the lines of "What the hell am I doing?", Elani gave herself a final inspection in the hallway mirror.
Curly bright-brown hair tamed into a ponytail?
Check.
Ready to do something completely irrational?
Check.
Analytic, locomotive and regenerative prototype charged, safely packaged and locked in a handy storage box?
Check.
Desinfectant, gauze, blood bottles and surgical equipment from her slightly overstocked medicine cabinet spread across her backpack and bulging her dark-brown jacket?
Check.
Elani suspected that medical supplies would be available on-site, but she certainly would not want to have her first mission ruined by a lack of foretought.
Or, more importantly, see someone die under her hands because she could not be bothered to haul a little extra weight.
"Good to see reason has not left you entirely.", she told her mirror image.
Out of the blue she burst out laughing, the thought of her standing shoulder to shoulder among the former Overwatch members and fighting evil simply was too absurd.
That's the first chapter for ya :P
If the story appeared to be inconsistent with itself or commonly acknowledged Overwatch lore at any point,
if you have any questions, suggestions or other critizism to offer,
please don't hesitate to contact me or write reviews. Every bit helps!
My pardons for not being more productive, despite all my efforts English still is a foreign language to me and the quality would suffer from a faster, more careless writing approach.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed what you've read so far , and have fun at whatever you're doing next :)
Yours sincerely, mampfer
P.S.: Please note that I will not update on a per-chapter-basis but rather add a couple hundred words to the latest chapter, every day if possible.
You can always tell if a chapter is finished by the bold annotations on its end.