A/N: Its Monday! The first day of a new week, a new 'dawn' if you will (I am so sorry). I was really surprised by all the support this story picked up, thank you all! Now lets get on with the story, enjoy. :D

"Angela? Are you still there?" Winston pulled the phone away and squinted at the screen. Just to be sure he brought the device back up to his ear. "Hello?" He asked into silence. It took a few moments for him to realise the call had been dropped, which was embarrassing. This was his first time ever owning a phone. He was told it would make his life easier, ensured it would prove to be a helpful little tool. Lena described this model as the thing that's 'trending' and that he needed to 'get with the times' as it were. And now everyday since he bought the thing she had been sending text after text, cryptic messages, like 'BFF's 4 evs'. What on earth did 'BFF's' mean? He recalled asking and getting nothing back but a text reading, 'omg rofl XD,' which made even less sense.

Winston set the phone down on his desk and leaned back in the tire he was using as a chair. Monitors depictive of equations and worldwide news broadcasts decorated the walls before him like posters. The lights were dimmed, leaving space around him dark and devoid of distractions.

He scratched at an itch under his arm and adjusted his glasses. It appeared restoring Overwatch was going to take more than the simple press of a recall button.

His eyes scrolled up to the central monitor.

Displayed on it was imagery from yesterday after fighting broke out within the Numbani museum. The picture had been taken from Winston's perspective, captured through a miniaturised camera installed inside his glasses. A figure suited in white armor centred this image, somehow floating without means of propulsion or lift. Just floating. Winston had never seen anything like it before, an intriguing and terrifying thought. All he did know was that It was hostile, that it levelled an entire museum and unlike Doomfist, it didn't need a gauntlet. Lena had named it 'the Whiteshadow' for reasons she had not yet explained

"Athena, how is the sample analysis coming along?"

Athena was an AI system Winston had developed a while back. She once operated as a mission handler for agents in the field, now she was left with nobody to assist but Winston himself.

"I am still running diagnostics," came her synthetic voice over the intercom.

The figure in white, this 'Whiteshadow,' fought with arrow-shaped shards that broke off from its metal cloak. Like itself, these shards also floated without a clear picture of how or why. And with a brief hand gesture, the Whiteshadow could send streams of razor shards flying like kunai. Lena put it all down to telekinesis, another intriguing and terrifying thought.

"What have you turned up so far then?"

Before Winston appeared a 3D holographic image of what looked like a rather streamlined arrow head. Then arose a need to rub the lower region of his wrist guard. The puncture marks were still there.

"Scans thus far show the arrow to be composed of no known element," Athena said.

"Then what's it made of?" Winston frowned.

"I am detecting a crystalline structure of hardened photons."

"A hard light construct?"

"That is what my analyses has identified thus far."

"Then Vishark were involved," came a deep voice that wasn't Winston's.

It was full of military grit.

Over his shoulder, Winston saw a horizontal line of glowing crimson suspended in the dark. It lingered for a moment before coming forth into the light. Around this line formed a visor, and around this visor formed the body of a man who only ever called himself a soldier. Someone who had been the headline of worldwide news outlets for over a month now. The mysterious Soldier:76 in the flesh. Visor and all. Winston met him at the museum by chance, an ally intent on keeping Doomfist's gauntlet out of Talon's hands. After the museum was destroyed he offered to lend his services, returning to Watchpoint: Gibraltar with Winston and Lena. His reasoning was straight forward: to track down the ones responsible for the creation of Whiteshadow and bring them to justice. He seemed to have little interest in becoming a full member of Overwatch.

"You know they say its rude for people to eavesdrop," Winston said.

"Maybe for people," the soldier said as he approached. "But I'm not people." He stepped up to Winston's desk, his visor staring into the monitor's display. It was impossible to tell what his expression was, but one could tell by his voice that it was serious. "I knew those corporate scum bags had a hand in this."

"We shouldn't jump to conclusions," said Winston. "let's wait until Athena is through with her diagnostic first. After all, it was the Talon who were backing this thing up."

"Hardly," the soldier sniggered. "all they did was sit and watch. But I get your point. it could be stolen technology for all we know."

A few moments drifted by in silence.

"Who were you talking with earlier?" the soldier spoke up.

"On the phone? Just an old friend," Winston said, typing on his keyboard. He enlarged a digital newspaper with a front cover image of Angela. It depicted her at the site of Numbani's museum after yesterday's incident. With the gold wings of her Valkyrie suite deployed and spread wide, she floated above the rubble, her platinum hair and white armour glistening in the sun. In her embrace was the limp body of a man whose blooded arms were bent in unnatural directions. "This is her," Winston commented.

"Indeed it is," the soldier said.

"You know her?"

"I recognise her."

"Angela is a superb medical scientist. It would be a pleasure to have her on board."

"But from what I heard, that doesn't sound like it's happening any time soon."

"Indeed, it seems that way. But I have a plan!"

The soldier crossed his arms, "a plan?"

"Athena, Lights!" said Winston and before long his workshop was lit up as the illumination of fluorescent celling lights came flickering on. It was a crowded room, ravaged in a hurricane of organised chaos. Notes upon notes and files upon files cluttered the desks with microscopes, plasma cutters and soldering irons scattered over the work surfaces. In the centre of the space was a large black board which Winston got up and lead the Soldier to. Aside from equations and trajectory calculations, there was a short list scribbled in font of inviting size.

It was titled 'Winston's-to-do list!'

"What is this?" The soldier asked.

"My plan of course." Winston cleared his throat before continuing. "Step one: move satellite drone onto launch platform. Step two: launch drone into synchronous orbit. Step three: triangulate global 'recall' signal. Step four: call all Overwatch agents back to active duty!"

"and order more peanut butter," the solider read aloud.

"Ah yes," said Winston, quite flustered. "I-I have no idea how that got there. Must be one of Lena's pranks I am sure."

The soldier turned to Winston, that red line running across his visor burning with an intense gaze. Whoever's eyes that were behind it felt like they were peering into the fibre of Winston's very being.

"What?" Winston caved in. "I like peanut butter."

The soldier retracted his gaze. "Me too," he said, looking back at the blackboard. "I thought you already recalled Overwatch?"

"I made a public announcement over the internet, yes. But that was just to grab the world's attention. Lena pointed out that we needed to build up 'hype' as she called it, so when the real recall beacon is activated—"

"it won't seem like a Talon ploy to get all the world's heroes in one place," the soldier cut in.

"Precisely," said Winston. He also believed a public announcement of his plans would help for the sake of image. The actions of vigilantes never go unnoticed, even more so when those vigilantes were once media icons. A reformed Overwatch had to go public, otherwise Winston may as well of been recalling Blackwatch.

"So where's this satellite?"

"Still being built," said Winston. "But I am expecting to have it finished for tomorrow. Good thing too, the conditions are forecasted to be perfect." He swung by his desk and grabbed his phone. "Now if you'd excuse me, I need to ask Lena what a lolcat is. Be seeing you—"

"Seventy-six," the solider cut in.

"That's not exactly a name."

"Names are for people."

Winston didn't see any point in arguing, so he turned for the door and started walking. It wasn't until he had reached the far side of the room that Seventy-six spoke up.

"Hold up a second."

Winston held up. "Is something the matter?"

"I have been meaning to thank you."

"Whatever for?" Winston chuckled.

"For trusting me I suppose. I know I haven't been exactly open about who I am."

"No thanks are necessary. If anything, it should be me thanking you."

"For what?"

"For helping out at the museum of course."

"It was nothing; I was just following a lead I picked up from somebody in Germany."

"Somebody on our side?"

"I don't think she has a side, considering that she sells information to Talon as well as myself."

"Interesting," Winston said on his way out. "Remind me to strike up a conversation with you about it another time."

A/N:

Week one wall of fame:

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