Edited: 22/06/2016

Beta Reader/Editor/Co-author: CruelRuin (GO CHECK HIM OUT!)

Story Word Count Post-Edit: 6 457

The sole disclaimer I shall ever do for this: I don't own Overwatch nor Fate/Stay Night, they are owned by Blizzard Entertainment and Type Moon respectively.

South Korea was a nation of plenty, prosperous in recent times due to their ability to adapt and change with the times, with this being one of the reasons it had lasted so long. Their innate nature to adapt was perhaps the only thing which had allowed them to overcome the omnic abomination which had risen form their seas almost two decades ago. The proud people had been able to hold it back, omnic and humans alike had resisted against the grotesque perversion of technology, the boundaries of man and machine long forgotten as they delayed it long enough for outside forces to aid them in repelling the metal monstrosity.

But regardless, the first time it had attacked had been a living nightmare, one that could never be forgotten; thousands had died in the span of twenty-four hours, a cycle of day and night entrenched in so much slaughter it was almost unimaginable, cities were destroyed and their ruins were marred red with blood. So many had died in that short interstice that it had resulted in weeks of mourning. Despite the terror never having managed to break far past the coast, the amount who had perished in its wake were astronomical. For days the proud land of Korea cried as one whole for those that they had lost, all work coming to a halt as they wept for those that had passed away.

But afterwards, the nation surfaced, proving itself to be stronger, the burden of those that had been lost only driving them on further. The government had responded to the situation by reinforcing its military and investing in machinery as methods of combating such a beast should it ever resurface in Korea, but also due to the eye opening nature of the even highlighting their inadequacy in terms of military force. The public had responded in a very different way, views on omnic becoming outspoken.

While during the tenuous and trying few hours the arduous trial had lasted, the differences in flesh and metal had been forgotten, it had then come back with a vengeance afterwards. Many had taken up the stance that the robots had been the cause of the attack, that it had been carefully conducted offensive orchestrated with the aid of omnic in South Korea. Their remedy to the problem was a widespread purging of the traitors, those who had bit the hand that fed; a genocide of any and all omnic they could get their hands on. While they were the minority, their sentiments were not wholly disavowed and shunned by the rest of the populace.

Despite not being as outspoken or radical in their stance, a large portion of people saw the omnic as threats to their continued way of life. They saw them as superhuman beings who had the potential to wipe them all out in a single night due to their susceptibility to God Programs, it being an eventuality for the omnic to be taken over to them. In their mind there were two solutions: The first being the development of some sort of anti-virus or firewall which could protect them from God Programs, which was near impossible due to a lack of understanding of them in the first place, or secondly, to keep them away from humanity, in a distant colony, to protect themselves from their volatile potential for slaughter.

Both of these mindsets weren't condoned by the government nor a sizeable portion of the people, as it was a known fact that no omnic who had ever killed a person had been a normal omnic. It was an intrinsic part of their coding to never harm a human, unbreakable to the highest point, with the only ones' who lacked such a default were those which were specifically designed for this (all of which had an expiration date and lack of sentiency due to security and ethical standpoints), those manufactured by Omniums infected with God Programs, and the aforementioned tainted omnic, which had been attacked on sight without exception. Despite these facts there were those who staunchly refused to shift on their positions, countering the pro-omnic's arguments with the fact that they didn't know how long God Programs had been active, that all omnic had the potential to be sleeper agents.

For the government there was no clear cut way of denying such a phenomena did exist, even though there was no proof to support it, as there was nothing which explicitly showed that it was impossible. The matter was officially in the grey, with the bureaucracy adopting the approach of giving omnic full rights, the only course of action to sway those who were undecided, forcing the hand of those in the neutral. There was much opposition to it, but the underlying threat of the omnic atrocity eventually returning was enough to quell them and replace them with necessary trust in the government, albeit shakily.

And their fears were well placed, though not enough precedence was given to it, as the second time the omnic leviathan had returned was akin to reliving a nightmare; none had predicted it to return so shortly after the damage it had taken, if it ever did. in the opinions of some, having been nearly destroyed. And yet, it was even larger and more destructive than before, being capable of wiping out a city in under half an hour. Had it not been for the speedy response from the maritime forces and a dispatch from Overwatch which had been, supposedly, refuelling there at the time, the lives lost would have been in the millions instead of thousands, marginally smaller when compared to the astronomical losses incurred by its first coming.

From then on it was silently agreed that it was bound to happen again with some semblance of regularity, primarily born out of fear and caution rather than concrete evidence. Exactly one year after the previous attack, or two years after the first, nothing had happened. Many naysaid the presence of military forces along the coast and perimeter of the sea, restricting civilian access to them, with some groups even trying to forcibly gain entrance to them due to nothing but sheer rage at the indignant restriction of their personal freedom. But after forty-three hours of time passing from the date of the original incident, did the omnic arise, looking next to nothing how it had previously, this time taking on the form of something on the lines of a malformed human crossed with a bull, albeit on a colossal scale.

This time they were ready, the lack of a military spending cap, as ludicrous as that would have seemed to one not living through such an event, allowed them the necessary forces to repel it. Although they were able to defeat the creature, the most curious part of the combat was when it retreated without sustaining damage to the point of near complete annihilation as it previously had. Up until that time the theories insinuated that it was some sort of strange and flawed amalgamation of broken omnic originating from some sort of dump, miraculously reconstructing themselves into some sort of greater being, possibly originating from some corrupted God Program with a limited reach taking them over and running it. But the display of intelligence, adaption and ability to retreat generated two main theories: either the God Program was slowly repairing itself and gaining further cognition, or that it was being something on the lines of remotely engineered.

And neither were good options in the slightest; one meant that they were facing something which could potentially adapt and advance indefinitely, while the other implied that something else was advancing and controlling it and meant the possibility of more occurrences of similar nature around the world was not easy to unfound.

Nine more instances of the rising and repelling of the omnic of the deep occurred over a span of years, and it was nearing the time frame for its thirteenth, with hundreds of soldiers in varieties of MEKA patrolling the area. Among the militia was the former professional gamer Hana Song or, going by the moniker she went by most of the time, D. Va.

The petite diva, hence the pseudonym, was a professional gamer, being amongst the brightest and most elite of them all. She had accepted the open invitation from the military mainly due to the pay, which promised more than she could ever imagine to earn realistically, and that wasn't even taking into account a variety of other economic advantages it offered, notwithstanding the sense of nationalism and pride that dwelled in her breast for her home.

The young girl was rose to be the best of all the MEKA pilots in the world, having trained intensively to transfer the skills she had learnt from video games to real life, having the training of many government professionals and scientists aiding her and her fellow gamers with the transition. What had resulted from it had been one of the most humiliating few months of her life, as she was lectured on about what she was doing wrong or imperfectly, even though she could see exactly what it was. After they, those who had been tasked with reengineered the world class gamer into an ace pilot, were through with her, she was then being forced to go through a series of demeaning tests and exercises, and then repeating the process until she improved.

And improved she did, D. Va was now amongst the best in all of South Korea, a worldwide forerunner in MEKA technology and piloting. She lacked any betters, only those who had endured the same pride destroying, gruelling training as she could ever hope to match her; hundreds of thousands had watched her streams of her mock-battles against her fellow MEKA pilots, it quickly making up for her lack of recent streaming, her skill enrapturing all who lay eyes on her footage, her looks and personality only further embedding herself into their hearts. But none of that mattered anymore, not her level of skill in faux battles, the amount of praise she was given, how many people watched her, how perfect her accuracy was, it was all irrelevant when laid out before the event that was meant to happen today.

The conditions of the sea were always the same whenever It drew near; the sea would become unnaturally still, its surface becoming glassy, all the fish would vacate the area, as if sensing from the impending destruction, and there would always be an influx of seabirds, seemingly fleeing the terror which dwelled out at sea. It was coming in and D. Va was unashamedly scared to her very core.

The omnic creature, commonly referred to as simply "It" or "Leviathan," was no simple beast which could be slayed like in legend, no, feats such as those were reserved for heroes, gods amongst men, who had long since been confined to mere myths. While the weaponry they had at their disposal was vast and intimidating, it was nowhere near enough to force Leviathan back before It could do significant damage; hundreds of lives would be lost, regardless of the strength or ability of those who came before It. To It, they were mere ants, and no matter how mighty an insect was amongst its own, it would be rendered impotent before a monster such as Leviathan.

With such loose and unbidden thoughts rushing through her head, Hana's heart was racing in her chest as she willed it to slow, reminding herself that she was streaming this to the world (against her own wishes, the government itself had coerced her into it with the promise of adding an AI which filtered out the gory parts unfit for public digestion and a substantial monetary gift. Their reasoning was not clear to D. Va, but she didn't particularly care, as she was able to cater to her fans even more and that was all that ultimately mattered) as she continued her patrol near the coast.

In an instant, Hana heard what could only be described as the sound of a metallic giant screaming in agony. She pivoted her MEKA to see what caused the ghastly cry, only to see something she had been dreading and silently praying against for years:

Leviathan.

In contrast to its original form akin to a whale and a lion conjoined together, this time around, the omnic had taken on an appearance which to resembled a human, except the proportions were all off. The head was barely there at all, seeming more like a formality or a custom rather than a necessary component, almost as if it were mocking those who opposed it; its arms were grotesquely large, one having a supermassive sharpened piece of metal resembling a sword hanging loosely from where an arm should have been and the other being a mess of too many metal fingers with small arcs of electricity dancing amongst them; its legs were strange to say the least, they were full of pivots and joints which leaked steam for every move they made; and its torso was small, barely existent, with countless pieces of machinery and weaponry hanging loosely off it, as they all glinted a pale orange in the setting sun.

What terrified D. Va the most was that she had not even seen It enter or break out of the water, it was either ungodly fast or had somehow been able to slip through their defences and get on land without their knowledge, and neither of those boded well for the future. Before she could even open fire on It, Leviathan had already begun to slaughter her fellow pilots in an instant, wielding its bladed appendage's seemingly excessive length with terrifying ease, slicing through soldiers and buildings alike in mere seconds, its edge glowing an eerie yellow.

Hana felt a sudden urge to vomit at seeing fourteen of her comrades being brutally murdered in such an abrupt fashion. Leviathan somehow now seemed capable of moving with unnerving speed and accuracy yet unseen in its previous attacks, or even in the most critically designed robots fabricated by humanity. With its current level of agility and skill, Leviathan would not be nearly as easy to repel as it normally was, and that was taking into consideration the fact that the event was usually several hours long and many people lost their lives each year regardless of how good they were or how advanced their technology was. It was a David and Goliath story, except this time David didn't have a Deus ex Machina to save him and Goliath didn't stay dead.

As if sensing her fear, the omnic turned and begun to shift its small head towards her, slowly moving towards her, its steps carrying a sense of bloodlust and sardonic glee. Slowing her breathing, the remnants of what she had learnt over the months of preparation blurred through Hana's mind as she jumped away, afterburners propelling her away from Leviathan. And not a moment too soon, as the sound of a building being crushed under the colossal weight of the bladed arm of the omnic greeted her ears like the death rattle of a congregation of multiple millions. Seeing this as an opportunity to possibly get a quick hit off on It, D. Va turned mid-air and begun to open fire on It, letting off countless rounds in the short interval of time, targeting its arm joint in hope of miraculously taking off its means of attack, or at least weakening it enough for her posthumous successor to possibly succeed in the task.

But all was for naught, as Leviathan removed its weapon without a moment's struggle nor hesitation. The sword, if it could be called that. ascended into the sky as dying sunlight danced across its metal. The reflected light could be described as beautiful, had it not been originating from an instrument of death covered in blood and dust, which itself protruded from the arm of a genocidal giant robot. Was it possible that the omnic took pleasure in this, the act of killing and tormenting its adversaries? While Hana would doubt such a thing, as It was meant to be a machine controlled and possibly originating from a God Program, it lacked the capacity for such things to the very core of Its being. But seeing the slow and purposeful motions It took to drag out each action…

She was beginning to have doubts.

"I won't die here," she muttered to herself as she again boosted away, ducking and weaving through several buildings, ignoring the dust and shrapnel that flew past her as she ploughed and jumped through buildings, doing so in favour of focusing of her determined mission to get some meaningful damage off on Leviathan. She'd rather die than… die before doing so, as paradoxical as that statement was. Pausing momentarily, D. Va jumped up from the alleyway to the roof, hoping to be able to get a clear shot off on Its chest or head, as if it was like a basic omnic then enough of those would take it down. If she could just a few vital hits on it early on, then that may be enough to boost morale and turn it from a massacre into a tragic victory. As dark and distant as that sounded, the former would imply thousands dying in vain, while the latter alluded to hundreds dying in meaningful combat, and Hana wouldn't, no, couldn't, let them die in vain or regretting everything that led them to this point, they'd die being proud of what they'd accomplished!

The moment that her MEKA reached the roof D. Va was struck by two things: The first being the immense carnage that It had reaped in the brief period she was gone, no longer than thirty seconds, that she had been eluding It. Her gaze was rapidly invaded by the scars of destruction that dotted what had previously been a large and pleasant town, and secondly the presence of another person on the roof. Except this person was not in a MEKA nor were they wearing any gear marking them out as a member of the Korean Army. No, this was a civilian. And they were going to die.

How they got there wasn't important, the only thing that mattered was getting them out of here. "Hey you!" Hana yelled out in Korean, her voice being played out by the speakers of her metal companion. "It's not safe, I'll take you out of her!", she spoke, not immediately realising that her MEKA didn't have hands, merely arms with turrets in place of forearms. It wouldn't be easy nor comfortable, but she would have to make do with it.

"Too late," a deep male voice whispered, completely ignoring D. Va, from under the tattered red cloak that covered most of his figure. The only revealed part of it was the lower half of his leg, a pair of thick, rough grey pants and a pair of metal soled boots being all that defined him sans his red garment.

"Hey, what don't you understand?!" Hana screamed at the nutjob, probably either some delusional wannabe superhero or some psychopath who was here to watch the carnage and was mad they had missed out on the beginning. "It's dangerous here, get on and I'll get you back to the mainland!"

"Trace On," he muttered, again seemingly not hearing the increasing amount of rage and frustration coming from the Korean. Said girl, though, was promptly stopped by the sudden appearance of a black longbow in the man's hand, appearing in a flash of blue light unlike anything else she had ever seen before.

"What the hell is going on here?" D. Va muttered to herself as she looked at the stranger in a new light. He then spread his legs apart and realigned his body, seemingly taking a stance to shoot the bow. Was he some sort of deployment from the UN? One of the rumoured genetically engineered peace keepers who were designed to kill omnic and threats to the peace, operating with less mercy and more brutal efficiency that even their adversaries?

Hana paused for a brief moment to look again at the unknown man and saw that he had no arrows nor projectiles to fire. Perhaps he was able to conjure them in a similar manner to his bow through some manner of crazy advanced technology? Perhaps it was some manner of advanced hard light construct? She doubted the latter, as it was far too detailed and… full, for lack of a better word, to be crafted of Vishkar's hard light. Then that meant it was some other manner of tech, possibly nanobots?

Before the gamer could summarise and conclude her thoughts, there was another flash of the same blue-green light, instantly drawing her gaze onto it and diverting all her attention solely onto the red-draped enigma. There, in the male's tanned arm, was a singular arrow notched, although she could feel that it was something more. Something greater than just a simple arrow. Even from her current position, D. Va could tell there was something off about the projectile that sat drawn in his bowstring. She couldn't quite place what was off about it, the arrow seemed normal enough, a pale grey shaft, grey fletching, and a sharp steel arrow tip. But there was something ineffably exquisite about it, something that went beyond what a mere human could ever hope to smith, it was as if a demon or a god had made it in lieu of a mortal.

"Nine Lives: The Shooting Hundred Heads," the figure muttered as they let the arrow loose, before his arm became little more than a blur. Hana wasn't sure what she had seen in the split instant after the arrow had been released and she was not sure she would have understood it had she been able to track it. What she had seen simply made no sense, not even an omnic of godly proportions would have been able to do what D. Va's brain informed her that her eyes had seen. Said feat had been the man's arm moving so fast that it had been little less than a distortion of space as he released arrow after arrow from his bow at an inhuman speed.

By all rights his arm should have been little more than a pitiful mess of blood, charred skin, and remnants of horribly disfigured flesh. And yet there it was, laying slack at his side next to his bow, resting pointed downwards. This man… D. Va was not ashamed to admit that she was almost as afraid of him as she was Leviathan… Leviathan.

Forcibly and jarringly turning her MEKA to where her true reason for being here was, It. Hana was greeted by a sight that she hadn't ever, not even in her wildest dreams, expected to see: Leviathan had been toppled in under a minute. The majority of its body had been completely destroyed, what little remained being little more than hunks of molten metal and sections hanging loosely together. It was a sight for sore eyes, one that filled her with a sense of joy and contentment that she had never expected to experience on what was meant to be amongst the hardest days of her life, discounting tournament finals.

The reason for this was that something had to have been the cause for such a cataclysmic defeat of the omnic nightmare, and D. Va knew what had been the origin of it.

Yet again she sharply turned her MEKA to face the archer who had defeated Leviathan, her intentions not even clear to herself, only to see his retreating figure running across the low roofline of the cityscape. "HEY! WAIT!" she yelled, following after the enigma in her metal contraption, jumping from building to building in pursuit. She would not lose him, she would find out who he was, how he did that, and, most importantly of all, why he had done that. No one ever did anything for free, especially if it was for a foreign nation, she assumed he wasn't from Korea at least. She herself was doing this for her fans, family, and country, and as benign and admirable as those were, they didn't allow her to qualify as a hero of justice who fought for all out of their own free will and never expecting anything in return.

Sadly, it would seem that fate would have other plans for Hana Song, if the irritating whine of the alarm which indicated that her levels of fuel were almost used up was anything to go by. It would seem that her liberal usage of her MEKA's fuel to gain some ground and encroach upon the mystery man and her previous tactical retreat from Leviathan had finally taken its toll. "Screw this," Hana muttered to herself, as she angled her MEKA towards the stranger, she ejected out of the cockpit and was sent flying towards him, heedless of her own safety at this point.

She was in arm's length of him now, if she continued on her course then she would collide with him and take him to the ground with her.

As she advanced upon him, only milliseconds away from him, the man impossibly turned around and looked her dead in the eyes, his crimson cloak whirling around him as if possessed by a demon. It was then that D. Va got a look at the majority of the man's face; he had golden eyes with flecks of grey bleeding into them, his skin colour matching that of his hands, his high cheek bones and the flat line of obtuse determination etched into his lips being the only downside to his roguishly handsome looks, something on the lines of a marble statue mixed with a handsome blue collar worker. The man appeared to be around Hana's own age, give or take a year or two, which, when combined with his looks, qualified him as a true Adonis.

But instead of focusing on his looks like she would have in any other situation, she was inexplicably drawn to gaze into his eyes, which showed nothing but steely resolve. In an impossible feat of athleticism, transcending human limits, the man turned back and kicked off the ground, rocketing beyond Hana, leaving her both shocked and out of kinetic momentum, freefalling towards the ground. It was the latter of those that snapped her back to reality, as she fell into a roll, she caught a glimpse of the tattered garb that marked out the boy that had taken Leviathan down, before it too disappeared with its owner.

The diva let out a groan of petulant annoyance, uncaring at how it made her seem, angry that she had lost, even if it was against an inhuman human, as oxymoronic as that statement was it still rang true. She turned around and walked across the rooftop, running a hand through her hair as a cathartic method of relaxation, when she arrived at her hairband… the one which had a small, high tech camera was still videoing what she was seeing and streaming it. Realisation dawned that millions of people had seen the man Just as she had… this would be an interesting issue for the government to deal with, it was their fault for making her stream after all.

She was adopting a laissez faire attitude towards it, Hana would openly admit that was what she was doing. But she had more pressing matters at hand, mainly it was investigating the reborn Overwatch and potentially joining it, and secondly (by a slim margin) was finding out who the resident mystery man was. That being said, the internet would probably do that for her, everyone who was born and lived left some level of digital trail, that was unavoidable. And when combined with some of the more… investigative people on the web, it was only a matter of time until their identity came to light.

Four Months Later | Melbourne, Australia

In a country considered by many to be a haven for omnic, there were a surprisingly large amount of extraordinary beings, primarily centred around the bush near the centre of the nation. But in Melbourne there was an anomaly so grand and unlike any others on the planet that they could very well be deemed an enigma, despite being normal in most aspects. This irregularity went by his given name of Shirou Emiya, a piebald youth who was known for two things in his neighbourhood: 1) being very dependable and helpful and 2) disappearing for lengths of time with neither rhyme nor rhythm, and no explanation of what had happened to cause him to disappear, merely a series of profuse heartfelt apologies.

He currently worked at part time at a coffee shop and had an apprenticeship as a builder, juggling the two jobs with no small amount of difficulty. Despite this he was still a bright staple of his local community, constantly a beacon of hope and goodness, almost closer to an ideal than a person. The only thing that could be faulted about him was his lack of desire to talk of his past, the most anyone had gotten was that he was from a small town in Japan, he would always subtly divert the conversation on when it came to subjects such as his family, friends, town name, and especially how he got to Australia in the first place. It was a constant source of gossip amongst those who knew him, almost a game to piece together possible pasts for him, with everything from a former yakuza to a runaway fiancé being amongst them, it being an unspoken rule of the game to never directly ask him about his past, instead attempt to subtly coerce it out of him and get him to validate the ideas about his past.

At least, that was all that Hana Song could glean from the local residence and employers of one Shirou Emiya. They had been relatively forthcoming once they had found out who she was (some had even recognised her on sight, which was always pleasant). The man was a massive riddle who D. Va was almost certain fit the bill for the red garbed man who had defeated and then retreated from Leviathan. There was much contention online about the identity of the hero who had slain the beast, but only a few dedicated souls had been able to narrow it down to around twenty-five people who could potentially be him before giving up. The task was simply too much for even the most driven of people to partake from beginning to end, so Hana would take the torch from them and carry on the labour of determining the truth behind the claims, with Shirou being the first, and most likely, of them all.

By now she was almost certain that this "Shirou Emiya" was the one she had been searching for during the past few months. He fit the physical appearance near perfectly and he was elusive and prone to short disappearances to be Archer, the moniker the internet had taken to referring to the slayer of Leviathan as, amongst other things depending on who you asked and who had seen him in action. Oh yes, the rogue, as it turns out, hadn't been pulling off a one-off stint in South Korea. No, he had quite a global presence as it turns out, although none of it had been recorded or officially acknowledged.

Be it in Hawaii saving people from earthquakes, Moscow combatting the what was beginning to seem like a new, budding Omnic Crisis, the Australian Bush Wars, he was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, appearing for only an instant to play his part as a hero before disappearing before he could be rewarded or even acknowledged for his part. It was strange and nonsensical; it went against the reason so many dreamed of being a hero: recognition. Instead he was content to live a plain life in a plain city in a plain country instead of in the lap of luxury living as an A-lister based off his feats alone.

While Hana herself didn't particularly enjoy such things, being something closer to a NEET than one who adored the limelight, provided she did love her fans immensely but the reason for that wasn't for simple fame and adoration, she could still understand the appeal to a normal person. And yet, Mr Emiya was happy to let it all slide past him and have two jobs and help around his local area. It was endearing in a way, but first and foremost, it was excessively confusing. He could have quietly approached the countries' governments and asked for small monetary recompense, a salary if you will, which she was sure they have been happy to have paid, if only to remain in his good graces should another such event arise.

"Say, Lena, why do you think Mr Emiya hasn't revealed himself or something of the sort?" Hana asked her senior, the bright and chipper Englishwoman known as "Tracer" to most.

Said brown haired woman, wearing her normal uniform sans the goggles, uncaring of how it made her seem in public, let out a small stream of air before replying, "I couldn't say, although it may have something to do with the Petras Act." Ah yes, the act which made any and all Overwatch actions prosecutable and removed all of their special rights and powers, leaving them open to countless lawsuits from the public. Should Mr. Emiya be found out, he could very well be likened to Overwatch and find himself facing the full force of the law. "Or it might just be who he is, a classic 'tall, dark and handsome' in the flesh," she continued, pausing mildly to give her partner a lewd look, "and he does have tall and handsome on lockdown."

D. Va sighed at this, although she couldn't make it any less true. "True, although I'm not so sure that the 'dark' part isn't missing," Hana said, remembering the memory of those eyes filled with nothing more than a mentality reflecting that of a human weapon, nothing but pure dedication to a cause dwelled in those molten pools of gold and silver, shivering at it despite the fact that she was wearing a pair of jeans, a pair of boots, and a cardigan.

"Eh, from what we've heard he seems like stand up bloke, wouldn't surprise me if he'd rescued his fair share of cats from trees," Tracer retorted, as they walked up a flight of stairs, drawing closer to Shirou Emiya's apartment. "But then again, people like that have a bad habit of trying to fill a hole in their heart that can't be fixed by just helping others…" She trailed off here, gaining a distant look in her eyes as she seemingly remembered something she wished she hadn't.

"Speaking from personal experience?" asked, noticing the far off look Tracer had adopted upon Hana's own little piece of prose. It was almost frightening to see a person like Lena Oxton bear such a dark truth on her shoulders and have it weigh her down so much. She was meant to be the chrono-jumper Tracer, the woman who time itself couldn't even defeat for god's sake! Seeing her like this made Hana worry for her own future, as Lena was only seven years older than herself. Would she have similar mental scars by that time…?

"Nothing you should worry about, kiddo," Lena replied cheerfully, shoving her darker emotions and memories down in favour of the now, as they drew apartment no. 312, the residence of the man they were looking for.

"You're only seven years older than me," D. Va huffed, folding her arms in front her chest, pouting at the time traveller. Although, now that she thought about it, did age really apply to Tracer? Who was to calculate how long she had spent away from the current time stream? It could have been decades she had been drifting through the infinite expanse of timelessness before her molecules eventually somewhat realigned themselves with her original timeline's frequency. And that itself brought up another question, did she even age? Tracer had an advanced regeneration factor, able to mend broken bones in hours, although D. Va was beginning to think that perhaps it wasn't actually her body healing, but rather her body being reverted back into the being known as Tracer due to the chronal disassociation, as time had little bearing on her if her powers were any indication. On second thoughts, Hana would leave that to Winston, it was giving her a headache already from merely dipping her toe in such questions and thought experiments.

Before Lena could respond to D. Va, there was a loud boom on the other side of the door, giving Tracer and instant to grab hold of Hana and Recall herself, dragging her friend along with her. Where they had been not a moment earlier was now the site occupied by grey blur that passed through at breakneck speeds before slamming through the wall… and another, thankfully the second was the last one of the floor, leaving the person to fall to the ground and not do any more damage to the other apartments.

"Was that… Reaper?" asked slowly, reaching for the pistol hidden at her hip.

"Yeah, I think it was," Tracer responded, carefully reaching for her own pistols, "I wonder what he was doing here…" she paused as a person walked out of the room, a pair of beautiful white and black Chinese dao, or possibly falchions, in hand. Tracer looked at the person wearily before noticing two things. Firstly, the man was wearing a white apron with "Unlimited Cook Works" in big, bold letters printed on the front and secondly, the person had the beginnings of a dark tan and a head of red hair with various patches of white. This person was the man they had been looking for: Shirou Emiya.

"Welp, I guess that pretty much sells him as our man," Tracer said to Hana, before turning to face the greying redhead. "Err, hey there," she said, waving at the boy slightly awkwardly, causing him to blink owlishly, before looking at them with a friendly smile, almost as if that was his default, "we're wondering if you'r-"

"YOU!" D. Va exploded, rushing the significantly taller male, the mixture of equally intense curiosity, frustration and rage she had felt on that day resurfacing, "YOU HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO DO!"

Edited Version A/N: Well, I edited this I suppose. I've got to say, I didn't expect the response I got, I'm currently #1 of all F/SNxOverwatch stories! THAT'S INSANE!... Is what I would say if I wasn't the only one. On a happier note, I'm seventh in Overwatch crossovers… SEVENTH! That is fucking awesome, and with the update I may be able to slide up a position or two. My ultimate goal is to break the Naruto barrier… It's going to be hard, but I shall TRY! (I'm coming for you Devasheesh, doesn't matter how unlikely it is, I'm going to usurp your position.)

Let's see anything else… ah yes, two things! Thank you everyone for reviewing and following/favouring, I have responded to all reviews except one (sadly I didn't have enough to work with to formulate a reply). I would respond to all the guest reviews, but I think that would pump this chapter up another 1 000 words, this A/N is already too big, and I dislike doing that (nothing against people who do it, just not for me). If you are a Guest reviewer please just make an account so I can say hi and have a small chat, it's not that hard and I genuinely enjoy it and if you even give a passing comment I'll be there and thank you for it and ask you about it.

Secondly, big thank you to CruelRuin, the glorious bastard who put up with me long enough for me to send him this to edit! If you haven't read his pair of massively popular stories, his NarutoxOverwatch story "The Anomalous One" (currently #4 if that's any indication of quality) RWBYxNaruto story "Your True Colours" (almost at 800 follows as we speak), both of which I can assure you of my own Seal of ApprovalTM, as the editor is PureBlank… ME! Yes, CruelRuin puts up with my stupidity and laziness in exchange for editing (it still confuses me as to why he puts up with me, he could get someone better) and he offered to do mine, so there's that.

And that right about wraps things up, I didn't reach my goal of 8 000 words, I came near 7 000, but 8 000 was unrealistic given the fact that I liked where I ended off. Last, but not least, thank you for reading.

Blank

Well, this took some time, hope it pays off.

Cruelruin

So, ah… this was a thing I did, I suppose. To clarify some things let me say one thing: I haven't edited this beyond some incredibly shallow edits of certain parts and I have never played Overwatch, I'm planning on buying it, but I've never played it.

So why am I making a story about it if I've never touched it before? To put it simply, it fascinates me. When I was editing an Overwatch crossover for CruelRuin I fact checked his stuff and looked on the wiki about most of the stuff, slowly learning about a franchise which I had previously had no idea existed. And once I went down that rabbit hole there was no coming back, the story and unique characters had me entranced, all without playing what was meant to be a fantastic game. But that does leave me with a somewhat lacking knowledge/perception that actual players of the game get of the Heroes, but meh, fanfiction is all about creating your own version of canon.

Lastly, why have I not edited this? Simply put, I am no Arrixam, The Right Stop or The Omnipresent Sage, I have neither the capacity nor the time to create such well-crafted masterpieces. While I would have liked to bolster this up to 8 000 words, I can't be bothered to work on it for the time being, I just felt a need to put (metaphorical) pen to paper and this came from it. As it stands, it is nothing more than a one shot, a flight of fancy. Should it get enough attention then I may reedit the chapter and refurbish it to the standard I wanted it to be at and continue on, as the secondary reason why I'm not continuing is because I have no idea of where it would go, which can be solved with a small amount of effort I'm currently not willing to exude.

TL;DR: I haven't played Overwatch yet, I rely on the wiki for all information, this isn't my best work, and chances are that it'll stay a one shot for a while (if not indefinitely, although the main factor is due to my lack of desire to continue it for the time being).

Blank