"Lena, I don't think we're in Gibraltar anymore." It was Winston speaking.
"Well, where in bloody 'ell are we?" Apart from the sudden displacement from the Watchpoint laboratory, Tracer was feeling very sore, as if she had just slept for a long time.
Winston fumbled with something on his armor.
"Doesn't seem my GPS is up and running normally. I'll have to figure this out, give me a second."
Tracer took in the area. They were in a clearing in a forest- a stark contrast to the mountains of Watchpoint Gibraltar, where Winston had been working on a new teleportation device. Bloody bugger, I should never have helped him out with that… that nonsense. No... That's not fair. I couldn't have just left him on his own, and I shouldn't have these thoughts about a friend anyway. It's not fair to Winston, and it's not a good attitude to give in to.
"You got it. And while you're going at that, I'll go ahead and have a look-see around."
The heavy trees gave way to a path at one end of the clearing, and Tracer began to take towards it, but instead muttered a cry.
"Lena? Are you feeling alright?"
"It's fine, Winston, I just… the bloody chronal accelerator must be jammed. I-" can't even blink, she would have said, had she not snapped right out of thin air.
Oh, dear… Winston thought, Oh, no, this is…. This is not good.