Disclaimer: I do not own Overwatch or its characters; I do not own Hellsing or its characters. These are property of Blizzard and Kouta Hirano and no money will be made of this unless someone gives me more to continue this story for some sad joy.


First Sighting

In the world that was now 2063, everything had changed. Technology had ushered a new age of robotic intelligence thirty years ago. Omniums as they were called were the first of a long line of robots that would soon propagate terror. The issue was a hot debate back in 1999 when the first Omnium had been presented, a small child-like XLR that could program itself to understand language and profound questions. Though it did lack understanding in the department of philosophical approaches to such questions, they were undeniably quick in learning as was proven when it had beaten the World's Go GrandMaster. A fear had gripped the hearts of men then, as an unspoken thought, uprising. Would a time that these Omnium robots be capable of such a feat? The question had been put down rather abruptly as three laws were introduced, three laws that should have never been retracted. The future is questionable, the past is undoubtedly regretful, the present is restless fidgeting.

Some said it was only a matter time before it would all come crashing down, they were right. A miracle thought to be impossible happened and with it came retribution.

Anarchy reigned free and chaos was triumphant, people sought anyone, or anything, that would protect them. Omniums had hacked into automated factories and machines were being churned out on a factory line, moving for the sole purpose of killing humans. Each unit destroyed was rebuilt faster and stronger . It seemed Judgment day was nigh. With little hope left, it was now that the World united under the Banner of the United Nations, an Elite Task Force was commissioned. Overwatch, comprising of individuals from each nation brought in to halt and cease all Omnic Operations. It was then that hope had been re-ignited, people took up arms and soon it seemed all was not lost.

For over thirty years this Group of highly trained individuals watched over the world, helping the war stricken or protecting it from the shadows. The name 'Overwatch' had taken its place in the History books but for now, they rest, officially dismantled under the Petras Act.

Peace had come to pass for a time as long as the war lasted. Thirty years ago, the Omnic Crisis was averted but today, thirty years later, the world stands on the brink of another. Progressing forward, wholly ignorant of the growing threat, the world celebrates under the pretense of peace. Soon, it will be revealed, war is on the horizon, whether they like it or not.

Heroes never die but even heroes need help sometimes. They've all had it; the most iconic of heroes have had a helping hand when in need. Often times from a friend, a comrade, a colleague, a partner, there go by many different names but there's always one which is left out. It is perhaps not technically correct to say 'left out'. This help doesn't grab onto you as you fall, it doesn't lend you a shoulder to cry on, it doesn't even show its face but it's the type that leaves a wire hanging around for you. It's a more discreet approach and it's that lingering thought that Heroes feel after a hard fought victory. They do not deny their own work, but when things are simply so in their favor, people are dubious about it. They are right to be. They can't tell if what's lurking in the shadows is a friend or a foe but for now, they saw a silent thank you, be it a Guardian Angel or just a shy ally.

Today was one of those days for Tracer, she was semi-conscious and soon about to lose the 'semi', lying on the cold pavement as her Chronal Accelerator continued whirring, its light, dim and shimmering, she felt like a kick in the stomach had left her discombobulated, the truth wasn't far, but it wasn't just that. She had failed and not a dozen or even a hundred kicks in the gut could ever match up-to that feeling. There was no excuse she could give- there never was when Heroes failed. She wasn't being hard on herself, not today, not when a person had died because she had failed. Heroes never die, sure, but they fail and when they do, there are consequences. She knew, she had to get back up, it was all about getting back up and fighting the good fight till the end but she had to ask herself, was there any point anymore? The very world they were protecting had turned their back on them. The Petras act had ensured she would have no help, no Winston to fall back on and no family to rely on.

Now, as her vision faded, she felt two hands lift her up. It was just as her eyes closed, the feeling of lift bought her a moment longer, enough to shift her head and look at who it was. All she could make out was light blonde spiky hair and scarlet eyes. She felt the person freeze for a moment before she stalled.

'Was I wrong when I thought there was nobody left?' Tracer faded as her thought lingered on in her dreams.

Her eyes peered open, she was being wheeled and commands were being ushered in a low voice to which hushed replies came forth. Her eyes faltered yet again and when they opened, she felt tired and soon she slipped back into sleep. When they re-opened, it was night yet again. She brought a hand up to cover her eyes. As she adjusted, she saw the light from the tubes illuminating her room. She looked down and saw that her device was fully functional, no whirring or whining from it. She was relieved but the image of the girl popped back into her head. She had to thank her. She brought her here, the staff would have to know, right?

After getting up and getting changed into her more comfortable attire, consisting of her brown leather jacket and yellow tights with harnesses in place to hold up her guns and Chronal Accelerator, it was then that a nurse walked in upon this.

"What are you doing!? It hasn't even been a day since you were admitted!" She fussed in a lowered voice as she made her way to Lena, hands outstretched.

Ignoring the question and dodging her hands Lena answered her with a question of her own, "Would you mind doing me a favor, Luv', and telling me if you know who it was that brought me in?" The nurse looked taken aback but otherwise answered quickly tucking away a strand of brown hair behind her ear.

"You were found actually. At our front desk! You were unconscious and the Doctor who was there at the time had taken control of the situation and proceeded with the operation. You're lucky to have made it; you had some serious internal bleeding." Lena's eyes widened as she processed this. Was it really that bad? She did lose consciousness after-all. Then again, she couldn't think straight, back when it happened. Sadness had overcome her then, but now, as she looked at her hands. She felt she had to make things right. To continue doing what she could to help. She had gotten back up and now she had to find and pick up the pieces. Something big was happening and she needed to get down to the bottom of it!

It was now that a familiar beeping had taken over the silence that had been left in Lena's habit of self-resolution. She perked up and was immediately looking around for the device. She pulled open the bag that had contained her clothes, pulled open her bedside drawer and in her scramble for it, she was even ready to flip the mattress, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the nurse holding a bag to her chest, a rather meek appearance but it was obvious what she meant.

"I think it's in this." She said in a low polite tone. Her own freckled face was blushing while her hand retracted to her mouth in order to choke the chuckle that threatened to escape. Who knew heroes were so animated and like the rest of us?

"Oh! Thanks Luv!" Grabbing the bag, Lena tossed about the guns and other personal items she had and found what exactly it was that she was looking for, a small comm link. It had all happened in the matter of seconds, courtesy of Lena's blindingly fast speed. How the nurse had managed to stop her before she flipped the mattress is besides the point at this moment.

Placing it in her ear, she hit a button and soon a ringing tone entered her ears. Anticipation filled her heart and she could feel her heart leap in her chest. Then it clicked and she knew the call had connected.

"Winston? Is that you, luv?" She couldn't contain the giggle that came out as she spoke, she was so happy! Overwatch was coming back and whatever was at work behind the scenes, they'd better watch out! "It's been far too long!" And finally, his gruff chuckle made her all but grin like a little girl.

"Yes, yes it has."


Hey! The first is proofed and tweaked a bit! I would still appreciate it if you guys pointed out any random stupidities you find, it helps a lot. The idea upon how I wanted to connect these two universes was pretty straight forward but I'll be leaving the details out. For now, I will be saying I'm avoiding using the skin disease(not talking about his in-game skins) they've mentioned for Reaper as canon. I believe it's better to just have him become something far more than just human. Anyway, Thanks for reading.