It was dark when Angela woke. No light shone between the open curtains, and the air held a chill that made Angela shiver. Her phone was still in her hand, as it had been when she'd fallen asleep last night.
Blearily, she opened her eyes and checked her phone. It was four-thirty A.M., and she had three messages from Genji:
Genji: Perhaps, but dogs still provide better company. A dog will lift your mood after long day better than a cat ever could.
Genji: Haha I guess you're asleep now. My work here is done!
Genji: Sleep well, Angela 3
Angela smiled and closed her eyes for a moment. She tried to remember the old days. When everyone was still alive and together. When everything was peaceful. When a friendly face was only a corridor away. Now everything was so…cold. And her bed was too big for just one person.
She unlocked her phone and sent a reply:
Angela: Thanks to you I did :) 3 And maybe you just think that because you behave like a dog yourself :P
Angela: Oh, and I hope you're remembering to run regular diagnostics on yourself. Just because I'm not there, doesn't mean you get off that easy!
Angela pictured his reaction to that. It put a smirk on her face. With a sigh, she threw off her blankets and went to the kitchen. The kitchen and living area lay in one room, and her bedroom and bathroom were on the side as separate rooms. Her apartment was large, considering it lay near the centre of Bern, Switzerland. She had been paid well as an Overwatch agent, and was being paid well now by the Inselspital - the University Hospital of Bern.
As she poured herself some cereal she said, "TV on." The TV blinked on, showing the morning news. She plopped herself onto the couch and began to munch.
The news was cheerful as always. Yet another omnic factory - this one in Russia - had 'gone rogue'. There had been several attacks on remote towns by omnics that had resulted in hundreds of deaths and injuries. The chairman of Volskaya Industries was promising a revolution in anti-Omnic security, with all new Svyatogor mechs ready to sell to the Russian military to counter the rising attacks.
Angela snorted. Because of course the solution to complex relations between humans and omnics was to make a bigger gun. But what else could be done?
Also on the headlines was the assassination of Tekhartha Mondatta, the head of the Shambali order. He had been giving a speech last night in London when he had been shot in the head by an unknown sniper.
An omnic dressed in the robes of a monk flashed on the screen, gesturing grandly. "Before me I see the future, humans and omnics standing together, united by compassion, by common hopes and dreams."
This had apparently sparked omnic peace rallies around the world, some of which were met with violence and even more casualties - both human and omnic.
Angela's heart sank. She had never been one for religion, but Mondatta had been a force for good in the world. And now he was dead, right when the world needed him most. Sounded like par for the course. She didn't know why she still kept up with the news. "TV off," she said, and she crunched away on her cereal in silence.
She thought she would have been used to that silence now, but it still echoed in her ears so loudly. Angela ached for a voice that would understand - that could understand - her and everything she had lived through. Picking up her phone, she opened up her contacts.
Her thumb hovered over the names. Genji? No, he had enough to deal with. She didn't want to burden him with everything. But the others…her throat became choked up at the thought of them. It had been so long. While she longed to see them again, she was also afraid of what that would bring. Still, to see everyone from Overwatch back together again…it was her sweetest daydream.
It was time to go to work. She left her empty bowl in the sink, went back to her bedroom, and opened the wardrobe. In it were all her clothes, but her eyes lingered on a small latch on the wardrobe's back wall. Normally it was dark, but now it waxed and waned with radiant amber light. A message. Via secure Overwatch channels. Her mouth hung open, dumbstruck. There hadn't been one for years. Then, shaking her head clear of thoughts, she got dressed, packed her backpack, and left the building. Those days were over. Why check that message? Why torture herself?
Angela pulled her coat around her as she walked down the dark and empty main road. The occasional car zoomed by, but the streets were otherwise lifeless and cold. Her breath came out as mist at this temperature. It was something Angela had always loved as a child. She would breathe that mist out like it was a special power. Fate always did have a sense of irony.
Angela was brought out of her reverie by the sound of raised voices and a scuffle in an alleyway up ahead. She jogged up to the alley and peeked around the corner.
There were two men and an omnic. The men were pushing the omnic against the wall of the alley.
"Come on, you're just an object. A thing," spat the taller of the two men.
The omnic had his hands raised pleadingly. "Please, what did I ever do to you?"
The shorter man shoved the omnic roughly against the wall. "You robots are murdering people. You gotta pay!"
"That's not me!" replied the omnic. "I didn't even do anything!"
The taller man snorted. "All omnics are the same." He struck the omnic's head with his elbow in a sudden, sharp movement.
The omnic made a gasping sound as he stumbled from the blow. "Stop! Please!"
Angela's guts twisted at what she was seeing. Why would these guys do this? They were probably just afraid and ignorant, but what they were doing was wrong. Omnics were so advanced that they had souls, they were alive.
These men had no right to do this.
Steeling herself, she stepped around the corner. "Stop!" she declared.
The two men and the omnic froze and looked at her. Her stomach fluttered. It had been so long since she had played hero. Was she still able to do this?
"Violence is not the answer!" she said.
The taller man looked incredulous. "What, you're defending the omnic? Who's side are you on?"
"I'm on his side, yes. I'm on yours too. There's no need to be fighting."
The shorter man stepped forward. He was about the same height as Angela, so it was much easier to stare him straight in the eye as he approached. "You should get going," he said.
Angela crossed her arms. "Or what?"
The shorter man grabbed her collar and raised a fist. Angela immediately grabbed his hand and twisted it off her. There was a crack. The man yelped.
Backing away, Angela glanced at the omnic. "Run. Go!" The omnic scrabbled out from under the taller man and dashed into the street.
"May you be one with the iris, ma'am! Please be safe!" he said as he ran.
"If they don't go unpunished, the attacks will never stop," the taller man said.
The shorter man glanced at him. "She's a sympathiser. She's one of them. I think she needs to be punished too."
Angela took a deep breath and focused. It had been years, but it seemed her muscles still remembered some of her training.
The taller man shrugged. "It's what you deserve." Then he lunged at Angela, trying to tackle her.
Angela threw herself to the alley wall to avoid him. He narrowly passed her.
Simultaneously, the shorter man threw another punch to her face. She raised her hands to block, but was too slow. His fist struck her high in the cheek, thumping her head into the alley wall. She let out a grunt of pain. Panic flared in her chest. Maybe she had been a bit rash.
Angela stumbled back, head reeling. She belatedly set herself into a fighting stance, arms up and on the balls of her feet. Blood trickled from the graze where the shorter man had struck her. She wiped away the blood with her hand.
The shorter man leered at her. "Oh, you think you can fight?"
Angela merely smirked. The bloody graze on her face slowly began to heal itself. Skin sealed back together, and within moments, her face was once again unblemished.
The two men paled. The shorter man took a step back.
"What…the hell are you?" the taller man said.
"A good Samaritan," replied Angela. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears. Hopefully that healing done by her blood-borne biotic nanobots would spook them.
The two men looked at each other. Angela seized the opportunity. Before the men could react, she turned around and sprinted out of the alley. Her lungs burned after a half a minute, but she didn't stop running until the hospital was in sight.
Angela strode into the emergency department as if nothing had happened, and went about her day as normal. She was the emergency department consultant on the floor today, and the patients she saw were the same as always. Hungover drunks. Motor vehicle accident traumas. Broken bones. Burns. Patients with reflux who thought they were having heart attacks.
But none of that brought her down. Her work energised her. Helping people in times of need was one of the greatest things in her life. However, when evening came and it was time to go home, the emptiness returned. It followed her all the way home through streets full of life.
Her apartment was silent that night as she ate her dinner alone. No TV this time. No more depressing news.
And when she got ready for bed that night, when she opened her wardrobe to put her day clothes away, she hesitated. Her eyes focused on the latch that waxed and waned with radiant amber light. A message, from an Overwatch agent. A past that was never coming back, blinking right before her eyes. Her life was so empty. There was no point going back, but what would she lose that she hadn't lost already?
Angela grabbed the latch, and opened the compartment hidden at the back of her wardrobe. In it was her Valkyrie flight suit, Caduceus staff, Caduceus blaster, and her Overwatch agent's communicator. The suit and gadgets of former Overwatch agent Dr Angela Ziegler - codename, Mercy. The communicator blinked with the same amber light. Angela opened the message.
A holographic image of Winston sprung from the communicator. Winston was a gorilla, and the subject of a science experiment that had granted him intelligence greater than that of almost every human Angela had met. He sat in a dark room, lit only by the cold glow of a monitor that reflected off rectangular, black-rimmed glasses. Angela spied a few empty jars of peanut butter behind him, and a fond smile spread absently on her face. He held sheets of paper in front of him - presumably a script. He sighed and began to speak in a deep, gravelly voice.
"Thirty years ago, the omnics declared war. The nations of the world had no answer, until they called upon a small group of heroes. Overwatch was created to rescue humanity from the Omnic Crisis. We became the greatest champions of peace and progress mankind has ever seen! You were chosen because you had powers and abilities that made you…you joined because you…"
Winston let out a defeated sigh and put down his papers. "You already know this." After a moment of downcast silence, he continued.
"Look…the people decided they were better off without us. They even called us criminals! They tore our family apart. But look around! Someone has to do something! We have to do something! We can make a difference again. The world needs us now more than ever!"
Winston took off his glasses. "Are you with me?"
Then the message cut off.
Angela was stunned. She didn't breath, didn't move. A wild swirl of emotions coursed through her. Excitement. Trepidation. Relief. Uncertainty. It had been so good to see Winston and hear his voice again. But what should she do?
Angela's communicator blinked again. There was a .txt file attached. She opened it. It read:
P.S: I'm sure you all remember Gabriel Reyes. Former head of Overwatch's covert ops. The one who led the rebellion against Jack Morrison's leadership and was presumed dead after the destruction of the Swiss headquarters.
Well, he's back, and he's got a bone to pick with all of us. He recently broke into the Overwatch database and tried to steal the locations of all Overwatch agents. Athena and I stopped him, but some agents were still compromised. I've listed those agents below.
I strongly advise those agents to relocate to a safe place if you can't return to Gibraltar headquarters. I suspect Reyes will come for you first.
Best of luck, and I hope to see you soon.
Warmest regards,
Winston.
Angela scanned the list. Her heart dropped. Her name was on the list. This was not good. She wasn't safe here. She remembered Gabriel Reyes. He and Jack had been fast friends, and Angela had always admired his determination and grit. He always managed to get the job done, even when things seemed impossible.
Her mind drifted back to that day. The fall of the Swiss headquarters. Angela remembered what she had tried to do, and she knew Reyes would be after her with a vengeance. She had to disappear. Quit the job she loved. Anguish tore at her, but she resigned herself to practicality. Reyes was lethal. The safest place for her was Gibraltar, with Winston.
But then her eyes scanned further down the list, and found another name.
Genji Shimada.
Her heart stopped. Her chest tightened.
No. Please no.