The Enemy of my Enemy is my friend.

A grinding sound echoed through the dark room, causing both it's inhabitants to jerk awake suddenly in surprise. Dark stone walls garnered with ornate, intricate and disturbing looking runes surrounded the pair; the space being no bigger than ten by ten feet. It only took a few seconds for Tracer to blink the sleep out of her eyes before her gaze settled on the neighbour of her cell; Amelie Lacroix, AKA Widowmaker.

Tracer leapt to her feet in an instant; pulse pistols flipped out from the holsters on her forearms. It appeared Widowmaker also had the same inclination - the deadly Widows Kiss rifle already trained on the cockney Brit's head. For the longest of moments the pair stared at each other in a Mexican standoff.

"What are we doin' here?" Tracer perked up softly; her eyes never leaving the french assassins own amber ones.

"I could ask you the same thing." Widowmaker responded; her accent thick, luscious and seductive. The rifle made some whirring sounds as it's carbine locked onto the tiny women's forehead. "I don't remember anything before this dark room." She whispered quietly.

A few more tantalizing seconds passed; and Tracer lowered her pulse pistols somewhat, dragging her eyes away from Widowmaker to study the darkened cell. As much as she disliked the assassin they were stuck here together for some reason - and it was clear that Widowmaker had come to that conclusion also; for she too lifted her rifle onto her shoulder, casting her own eyes around the dark room.

"So love .. Where do y'reckon we are?"

"Merde ... If I knew that I'd have figured a way out." Widowmaker seemed to grunt in response. Her hands ran across the runes on the wall that seemed to make little sense to the pair. A flitting sound was heard; and Tracer was standing next to her, studying the runes also with a curious glance; that quirky annoying nature of hers still now grated on Widwomaker.

"Weird isn't it. This place must ave' a door though right? Otherwise how'd we get in here?" She piped up, grinning a little at Widowmaker. Even now she held hope for the brainwashed assassin.

Very correct, and well observed; Lena Oxton!

The voice echoed across the room without source, causing the pair to nearly jump out of their skins. Instantly without thinking the pair were back to back weapons raised to strike out at whatever threat might jump out toward them. A few moments passed; and a hollowgram of a Tekhartha Mondatta seemed to visualise within the room; the runes on the walls glowing a light blue colour to cause the hologram.

"Mondatta?! Y'alive!" Tracer cried out; pulling away from Widowmakers back. The assassin seemed unphased however studying the hologram with a somewhat dismissive look.

"He's dead. I made sure of that. Une balle, un mort." Widowmaker murmered and it sounded as if there was a hint of pride in her voice.

Tracer frowned, looking over to Widowmaker "Clearly he ain't love, cause he's talking to us right now!" She grinned softly at the assassin, twirling the pulse pistols softly in her hands. Widowmaker simply rolled her eyes, The child is insufferable.

The hologram flickered slightly as Mondatta spoke, his robotic voice calm yet stern.

You've both been set a test, along with the other agents and enemies of the Overwatch history. Whomever has put you in here wants you both to work together to get out of this situation; and thus you need to set aside your differences and focus. Within the Iris, we are one.

Tracer's eyes widened and a cry of indignation escaped her usually optimistic lips "You mean, work with her?! Shes a murderer! mondatta. She tried to kill ya'!"

She DID kill me Lena. I don't know what I am anymore, but I certainly am not alive. Regardless, you won't make it out alive. Whatever trials are ahead have been set for the two of you as a pair.

A chuckle found its way out of Widowmakers lips, her rifle still resting against her shoulder. "I won't need your help, but stick around. I'll be sure to put a bullet in your head once we're free of this place. C'est comme ça." The female purred softly, clearly relishing the fact Tracer was so torn between the issue.

Please Lena; you must escape.

And with that, the hologram flickered out of existence. A loud harsh grinding sound was heard once again; except this time one of the walls visibly shifted. Sliding downwards it revealed a dark passage that offered no answers yet woke just as many questions. The pair cast a glance at each other, seeming to glare into each others eyes.

"This is temporary. I'm going to kill you when we're out of here, Tracer."

"Y'can try, love." A grin on Tracers lips; still as optimistic as ever it seemed.