Orpheus was abruptly awoken from his dreamless slumber by a knock on his door. It was light, not a very hard knock but enough to garner attention. He got up and pressed a button on the doorframe. The door split open and revealed a tall and slender woman, and her skin was...purple? Blue? What the fuck?

Hello, serpent," her words seemed kind, but Orpheus knew that they were laced with a venom just as toxic as his. The French accent didn't help either.

Orpheus had an astonished look on his face.

She wore a multi-shades of purple skintight latex suit and had an odd visor on her head. Orpheus realized that he was still dressed to kill, clearly she was as with the rifle slung over her shoulder. So it must've not mattered much around here. She had a wine in her hand.

"Greetings." He said in a dull distorted voice. This was the first time Orpheus had heard himself speak as well, he was just as surprised by his tone as the woman.

"I am Widowmaker," she said with a graceful bow.

"I'm-" Orpheus began.

"I know who you are already, Orpheus. The latest test from Project: Prometheus. As one subject to another, I have a gift for you," she held out the bottle of wine, "Oaked Chardonnay, the most exquisite white wine, and a personal favorite of mine."

"Thanks I guess. Never was much for wine, I always was a whiskey man. My liquor has to have a nice kick. Nonetheless I'll drink it." Orpheus said examining the bottle.

"Au revoir, serpent," Widowmaker said walking away.

Orpheus was hit by a sudden realization.

"Wait!" Orpheus stopped her, "What did you mean about 'Project: Prometheus?'"

She turned around with a sardonic grin, "You will know in due time, Orpheus. Enjoy the wine."

With that Widowmaker headed down the corridor. Orpheus walked back in his room and set the wine on the small countertop of his kitchen. That conversation with Widowmaker May have been incredibly brief but it had sparked a nerve. "Project: Prometheus." "As one subject to another." These words bounced around Orpheus' mind as he repeated them under his breath. Was she like him? Orpheus racked his empty mind for something to connect with Widowmaker's past and Prometheus as he searched for a wine glass. Then he found a near dead link. Widowmaker had something to do with Overwatch! Was she one of them at one time? Was I?

Orpheus toyed with these thoughts, trying his damnedest to connect these feeble strands of memory. Did she remember something he didn't? Orpheus kept thinking as he uncorked the wine. He still wished it was whiskey but beggars can't be choosers. Whiskey. Why do I like whiskey when I can't even remember tasting it? Orpheus had quite the paradoxical situation. He poured the Chardonnay into the wine glass. He filled it only roughly half full. Orpheus took off his rebreather and brought the wine to to his lips. He took a sip of it, he knew some etiquette at least. A fine wine had to be savored, not knocked back in a drunken stupor.

Then the door knocked again. This time much harder and with ferocity. Orpheus put the wine down and walked over to the door again. He opened it again and a black robed man with a mask stood there.

"You're Reaper aren't you?" Orpheus croaked.

"Yeah. I'm your overseer for your first mission. And yes, you're going to get your training form adaption in the field. So you, Widowmaker, Moira, and I are to stop a pitifully formed strike team, trying to steal technology from Talon. We have to keep them from taking it, and if they do we have to take it back," Reaper growled.

"Alright. When do we leave?" Orpheus asked.

"Now," Reaper said. The two of them walked to the nearby hangar where Moira and Widowmaker awaited them.

Part II:

Angela was nearing her wits end. It was almost three months since she had last seen Kenny, her beloved. He said he'd meet her at home and he'd cook a special dinner just for her, after he went to the supermarket to get the ingredients. Kenny never returned home. Angela had gotten little to no sleep in the time since then. She was dedicated to finding him. She was holding her head up with a weakening hand in their study. Her hair was an utter mess, it wasn't in her normal ponytail style. She had just got through another breakdown. Am I loosing my mind? Why can't I keep myself together? Why can't I find him? Her mind was in shambles. Kenneth going missing had taken a toll on her physically, emotionally, and mentally. She had near nothing to go on to find him. Save for the text he sent her. "Going to the store to get some groceries after we get off work. You just go on home and wait on me. Don't worry I'll be there, love you Angela."

The thought that he was dead crossed her mind. She began sobbing lightly again. She held an old shirt of Kenneth's to her face and sobbed in it. Crying was something she did a lot since then. It was within known norms now. Then she heard the door to the study creak open.

"Angela?" A gruff voice said.

"I'm over here." She said, not caring who it was.

Their heavy clack on the hardwood floor meant it was only one person, Reinhardt. The aging crusader walked over to the medic and put his scarred yet still gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Angela," his German accent spoke, "Jack still needs you. He wanted me to tell you something."

"What is it," Angela said through tears.

"We may have come across something that could find Kenneth." Reinhardt said.

A small spark of hope was kindled in Angela.

"How?" She said.

"Jack found out about experimental technologies developed by Talon for locating soldiers who were missing in action. The project was scrapped however and is now kept near Eichenwalde. The tomb of my mentor, Baldreich Von Adler." Reinhardt said.

"You want my help why? Kenny is probably dead, and I can't bring him back." Angela said.

"Overwatch May just be freshly reformed, but they still need their medic, you are that medic, as I am their shield." Reinhardt said firmly.

Angela sighed and stood up. She walked over to the aging crusader. She looked him in the eye and with deep regret, she told Reinhardt to inform Jack that she would be there to help her team. If there was even the smallest chance that that device could find Kenneth, then she had to chance it.