...

Locality: Genesis

There are many stories of heroes saving the day,

what is overlooked is the story of how they came to be.

"Oh my god, this Tracer dude!"

Evan burst out laughing as Jake's character was shot by the enemy team's Tracer. "I thought you were letting her kick your ass on purpose." Jake fumed beside Evan, who was still laughing. His friend was always a hothead when it came to video games, but something about losing in Overwatch really pissed Jake off. You could almost measure how angry he was by how many times he cursed in a sentence.

"Dude, this is major bullshit!" Jake yelled at the TV. His character was getting killed by Tracer every time he left their spawn area. "She just sits outside of spawn," Jake began, running out of the protection zone only to get shot again, "and fucking shoots me! Damn!"

Evan kept laughing, unable to stop. It was one of the many reasons he was friends with Jake; his attitude was absolutely ridiculous.

"At least you're good at this game, dude." Jake sighed as the word 'Victory' appeared on the screen. They had one the game, due to Evan's efforts tanking the hell out of the objective. "I couldn't even get to the objective and help…"

"That's why I'm here to save your ass!" Evan punched Evan in the shoulder as he was rated Epic in the post-game lobby.

"I hate getting carried."

Evan stretched, looking up at the clock on the wall. "We should probably take a break," Evan's stomach grumbled as he looked towards the kitchen, planning a late-night snack. "Are you going to stay over tonight?"

"Nah, I have work tomorrow."

Evan glanced at the clock again, "Well, seeing as it's 11 PM—"

"Holy shit, are you kidding me?" Jake looked at the clock, sighing. "Oh man, I should really get going," Jake got up and grabbed his jacket off of the back of the couch, "Thanks for having me over, Evan."

"Yeah, no problem." Evan smiled at his friend. Jake was having a rough time with college classes, so Evan let him stay over whenever he liked. He needs time to chill, even if 'chilling' means yelling at a flat screen in his friend's living room.

Evan pulled his black hair out of his face as it tried to hang in front of his eyes. He hated it when it did that, he needed to style it more.

"Hair still annoying you?" Jake asked as he grabbed the last of his things.

"Yeah, the cut looks good though." Evan had left it long on top and faded the sides short.

"Sure, if you like looking like a wannabe gangster."

Evan huffed, jokingly stabbing at his friend. "Just go home, you redheaded idiot."

Smirking, Jake gave one last wave before heading down the hallway and out his apartment's front door. Evan decided that he did want food, getting up and heading towards the kitchen. He left his Xbox on the Overwatch main menu, the infamous Tracer taking up the right side of the screen. He might play another match after he ate.

After having a long internal debate between Fruit Loops and Lucky Charms, Evan leaned against his kitchen island, pouring his cereal into a bowl. Just as he topped the bowl, he heard a knock at his front door.

"Jake must've forgotten something…"

Going towards the door, he heard another knock. This time louder and sounding impatient.

"Just give me a second, Jake!" Evan said as he reached the door.

"See, like I said literally just a sec—"

Evan stopped as he realized it wasn't Jake at the door at all. A police officer stood there, looking Evan up and down. The police officer was rather rotund around the middle, and was shining a flashlight directly in his face.

Evan put his arms up, trying to save himself from being blinded. "Hey, do you mind?"

"Er, sorry." he put the flashlight on his belt, choosing to cross his arms instead. "Good evening sir. Sorry to wake you up, but we're canvasing the area to see if anybody has seen any suspicious activity tonight. Have you seen or heard anything out of the ordinary or strange?"

Evan stood there, thoroughly confused. "Uh, no. I don't think so.

"Please note, withholding information is a crime—"

"I am very aware, I can guarantee I am not withholding anything."

The police officer seemed content with his answer, giving one last look down his hallway. "Alright then. You know who to call if you happen to see anything." he tipped his officer's cap before making his way down the steps to Evan's door, then continuing down the street.

Evan closed the door, making his way back to his kitchen. Hopefully he wouldn't have any more interruptions. He wasn't all too worried about what the cop had said; after all, it was New York. It was a bit weird he's going door to door, though.

He just wanted to eat his cereal, play some Overwatch, and hit the hay. No random visits or interruptions. No random police officers showing up at his door. Evan opened the fridge door, searching for his milk.

Spinning around with the jug, he moved to pour it over his cereal as he heard someone knocking on his front door yet again. Evan inwardly sighed as he looked at his cereal bowl. He was never going to get to eat.

Evan made his way back to his front door, fighting off the urge to yell at whoever it was.

"Ouch, this thing's hot…" the voice said.

He heard a muffled voice through the door. It sounded pretty feminine.

"Oh, please be home." the voice muttered.

It sounded familiar. Maybe it was a girl from his classes. But why would anybody be here? As far as he knew, he never gave his address out. For a second, Evan wondered if Jake had sent a prostitute to his door as a joke. He grumbled about wanting cereal as he swung the door open.

Standing in front of him, a girl with brown, side-swept hair wearing an orange jumpsuit and a pilot's jacket stared at him. She was holding something in her hands as it sizzled and popped. Evan looked back up at the strange girl, his brain slowly processing what he was seeing.

It was Tracer. Or, what was her name…? Lena Oxton. The actual Tracer.

The girl spoke up again, "Uh, hello! Sorry to bug you so late…"

Tracer, at his front door. His front door.

Confused, the girl started waving her hand in front of his face. "Hey, are you alright?"

Tracer, the one from the video game sitting idle in his living room.

"Hello, is anyone home up there?"

Evan suddenly snapped out of it, looking down at Tracer—no, Lena—while she continued to wave her hand right in front of his nose. He had to be dreaming or something. Maybe he fell, and hit his head on his kitchen counter.

"What are you doing here?" Evan blinked. He didn't know what to say besides that.

"I'm sorry, I know it's late. I was wondering if I could come inside for a jip—" there was the sound of faint sirens, causing Lena to jump and turn around, looking up and down the street. She turned back and looked at Evan.

"I know this is weird, but… Please?"

Evan stood there, contemplating what was happening. A lot of people thought he was a smart guy, and he agreed for the most part. He could use his brain. For the sake of argument, he'd assume that what was happening was actually happening. If this girl was the same one from the video game… He could assume she most likely wasn't a danger to him and she was a good person. Evan would like to think that assumption is why he let her into his home. More than anything, he was curious.

"Come on in, the name's Evan." Evan smiled as his mind swam in confusion.

"Thank you, my name is Lena," Lena smiled up at Evan as she hurried past him into the hallway.

Evan shut the door behind her, holding his head in his hand. He figured he'd just eat cereal until he woke up.

Dade typed heavily on his keyboard in front of him, sweating profusely. He really needed a raise. And some coffee. He looked around his tiny, paper-filled, disorganized excuse of an office. And maybe a maid.

He heard the door open as it slammed against the wall.

"Dade! What's our status?"

Dade pushed his glasses up his slick nose as he spun around in his chair to face his commanding officer.

"Nothing ma'am. There was the small radioactive influx and there hasn't been any action since."

His CO looked pissed. He had never seen her so angry before.

Dade, intimidated by the silence, spoke up again. "We have people sweeping every part of that area and asking people if they saw anything. Nothing of substance yet."

She just kept standing there, with a vein bulging from her forehead.

"Dade."

"Y-Yes?"

"That was no small influx."

"I know." Dade twirled his fingers in his hands.

"Our readings indicate a surge equivalent to a nuclear bomb explosion happened in downtown New York City, Dade."

"Ma'am, I was the one who first saw the analysis report."

Silence.

Dade shifted uncomfortably.

"I want you to look everywhere you can. I want an answer in the form of an official report on my desk in an hour."

"Yes, ma'am."

His CO left the room, maybe to go to the control room where things actually mattered. No matter where she went, Dade knew she was going to yell at some other poor soul.

Well, so much for the raise. He could still use some coffee, though. He spun back around to his keyboard, typing in orders as fast as he could.

Evan stood across from Lena, who was sitting on a chair eating cereal on his kitchen island. He was picking at his, but was more thinking than eating. He was surprised he hadn't woken up from this weird ass dream yet.

Evan had noticed her stealing glances at him, probably wondering why he hadn't spoken. His bowl was nearly empty by the time she spoke up.

"Thanks for letting me stay here, love. This may be weird, but where are we?" she sounded tired.

He couldn't imagine what was going through her mind. "Yeah, no problem. We're in New York." he began. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He had no idea what to say in this situation.

Lena stayed silent for a bit, apparently not expecting to hear that she was in New York. She eventually looked up at him from her cereal. "Do you know who I am?"

Evan pondered the question, moving his spoon through his cereal in circles. "I do, but I don't think in the way you'd expect." Evan took another bite of cereal. If this was all real, it'd be interesting trying to explain to her his point of view. He glanced over at the bits and pieces of sizzling chronal accelerator sitting on his counter, which had been what she was holding. He filed the question of how she wasn't time-leaping all over her timeline or whatever for another day. Perhaps it's not like how the game displays.

When it came to explaining to her where she was, maybe it'd be better to just show her. They sat there in silence, finishing up their cereal. Once Lena was done, Evan cleared his throat.

"Uh, Lena… There's something you should see. I don't really know how to explain it, so it'd be easier to show it."

Lena seemed confused, but nodded anyways. "Great. I'd like to get some clarity."

Evan went into the living room, listening to Lena's chair scoot on the tile floor of the kitchen. She was soon standing by him, looking around. He picked up his controller, handing it to her after powering up his Xbox. It had gone to sleep.

The screen lit up showing the Overwatch menu with a videogame version of Lena standing to the right, smiling at them.

"Whoa, it's me! Is this a contraband Overwatch ad?"

Evan looked at her, the thought of not telling her fleeting across his mind. But she needed to know. He'd have to be straightforward. "Not exactly. This is a videogame…"

Lena looked between him and the screen, confused. Evan decided to continue.

"I don't know how you're here, but you're in, well, another universe," Evan told her how to pull up the Hero Gallery and to go to her own page, "Here you are. I'm sure this is weird… Overwatch is just a game here."

"You mean… It's not real here?"

"... Yeah."

Lena was fixated on the small version of herself doing a twirl and laughing.

"I'll go take care of the dishes… Tell me if you need anything, or, you know…"

After not receiving a response, Evan left the living room and went back to the kitchen. He felt sorry for her, but he knew that she had to go through this if she really was… Real. Evan sighed, hoping he'd wake up soon. Deep down, he knew he wouldn't.

Ayy lemur. This is the only author comment I'll ever do. I hate them.

This chapter is mainly to test the waters for this story. In my opinion, it's a little lame. I don't expect the story to get good until after Genesis. And Genesis won't be too long. It will still be decent as my writing improves, though.

Nonetheless, enjoy the story. Thus concluded the shortest author's note in the history of FanFiction.

Peace y'all.