Gone were the bustling streets that once constituted New York. Demolished were the bodies of vehicles strewn about its ruins. The skyscrapers once reached the heavens, but now they lay toppled to the ground, broken and crumbled. Interestingly enough, several buildings lay on top of each other, before ending at what appeared to be the burning bottom half of a spire.

And yet, those served as merely a hint of the total destruction that engulfed the Carpet City.

Even now, as the billowing smoke drifted into the sky, fire ravaged the ruined city, with flames pouring out of the shattered windows. Ashes of a once proud city slowly floated to the ground, the various items scattered about serving as their final resting place.

In all of New York, the headquarters of the United Nations seemed to have suffered the worst. The flags that represented the unity that they established now lay barren in a massive hole in the ground. Piles of glass and concrete lay at the bottom, and the tallest building formerly stationed at the front found itself split in two from the force of the fall. The remaining pieces lay tilted on the sides of the massive crevice, along with the corpses of several tourist buses.

And yet, despite all this, not one soul remained in the broken city to witness its unexpected demise. No would question the man-shaped holes littered throughout many of the devastated buildings, nor would they be able to question the massive fire pit billowing smoke in the central district. New York, once a bustling metropolis, now a desolate ruin.

The people of New York would see this as one of the greatest tragedies that ever befell them. Little did they know, it was only a beginning.

Fareeha stirred. As her eyes slowly opened, a massive migraine drilled at her skull. As the former security chief clutched her head, she took note of her surroundings.

She woke up inside of a tent of all things. The small cabinet stationed beside her bed contained various bottles filled with either a strange liquid or various pills, telling her this must be some kind of a medical tent. But why did she even wake up here in the first place?

Her train of thought came to an abrupt halt when the sudden urge to vomit overtook her body.

"Here, you'll need this." Without even a second thought, Fareeha turned to her left, and threw up the remains of her breakfast into the bucket. Only after a minute or so of hurling did she take note of the person holding said bucket.

"...Reinhardt?" For all his muscle mass was worth, it seemed even the bulky hero was vulnerable to sickness. He lay in the bed beside her, with only a large shirt and jogging pants. "Why… What's going on?"

"Why don't you see for yourself?" Reinhardt pulled himself out of bed, and unzipped the window. Fareeha nearly gasped at the sight before her.

At this distance, New York would be quite the spectacle. But just like the abridged version of a really good anime, there were so many things wrong with the presentation.

For one, several of the tallest skyscrapers were simply gone. Though she didn't have a clue as to their current whereabouts, she could spot several lying on top of each other, like someone had knocked them down. Part of her really didn't want to acknowledge the massive columns of smoke rising into the distant sky.

Things weren't that much better on the ground. Multiple tents identical to theirs had been put up over the field of grass, and dozens of nurses could be seen helping many patients into them. Though their interiors remained concealed, the sounds of painful groans eliciting from inside the tents made her think she wasn't the only one feeling the urge to vomit.

In short, it seemed that during her little nap, New York and its entire populace simultaneously decided to take a personal vacation to hell and back.

Fareeha's mind crashed at some point, and slowly she rested her head on her pillow, and placed a palm over her face. She hoped to god that she just had a really bad hangover, and nothing she witnessed actually happened.

"Bad day?" asked Reinhardt.

"Gee, you think?" Reinhardt returned a hearty laugh. Except laughing only made his stomach bug worse. A few seconds later he found himself throwing up into the same bucket.

"Ugh… ha… I guess this old man hasn't seen enough action yet." As Reinhardt zipped up the window, he lay back in bed with his arms over his chest. "But look on the bright side, Fareeha! At least no one died."

"Reinhardt, I just woke up inside of a tent miles away from New York. I don't even know what happened while I was out."

"Ha…!" Reinhardt almost regret laughing out loud, as he forced down the bile rising in his throat. "I guess it isn't every day New York gets hit by an earthquake."

Fareeha raised an eyebrow. "An earthquake?"

"Yeah. An earthquake. I heard the UN Headquarters took a pretty big hit."

"Why am I not bothered by that?" Still, the news did surprise her somewhat, even if she didn't show it. "So how did no one die?"

Reinhardt grinned. "Well, you see…"

Exactly three hours and thirteen minutes ago…

As the ground beneath it began to split apart, the high-rise building began to tilt. Those inside of it grabbed on to something, afraid they would die from the fall. Those under the collapsing structure ran for their lives. They preferred not to get crushed to death, but at the rate the building fell, it wouldn't really matter.

But a certain hero had no intention of letting that happen, even if it did bite into his lunch time. The screaming pedestrians inside and outside the building suddenly disappeared in a blur of red and yellow, before they found themselves somewhere outside of New York. And then they starting throwing up on the newly mowed grass.

Saitama frowned. For him, the earthquake couldn't have been more inconvenient. He literally just finished heating up a cup of udon noodles when it hit. His growling stomach served as a painful reminder of that.

It was unfortunate, but he'd just have to reheat it after he finished his work here.

In the corner of his vision, Saitama witnessed a glass building tumble down, the sudden change in pressure shattering several of its windows. He made sure to empty it out before it hit the pavement, but he also went to the bathroom before leaving the collapsing building.

He also emptied out the building next to that one. It didn't suffer as much damage, but despite being much shorter, but several massive cracks bit into the thick concrete. Oddly enough, the building did look somewhat familiar.

Wait, weren't they all supposed to meet here or something? Well, not anymore he supposed.

As the ground continued to shake, more and more buildings capsized. He pulled out several thousand more people from the broken streets and the falling buildings, before dumping them somewhere outside of the city. At first he attempted to keep count of all of them, but that tasked proved somewhat stressful. It didn't help at all that some of these people dressed really weird.

As the hero lightly jogged through the streets, he gave his gloved hand a curious glance. In all honesty, doing this kind of hero work felt a little strange. True, as a hero he helped to keep the populace safe, but he usually did that whenever he came across a random monster lurking about. While he did rescue some people from time to time, this was probably the first time he did his hero work without actually punching anything. The concept felt strange to him. Alien, even.

Did he really miss punching things that much? It wasn't as though he could just punch the earthquake away.

While he pondered these thoughts, his eyes caught what appeared to be a massive airship hovering in the sky. Maybe he should ask that guy with the red goggles if he could catch a ride on one of those. They looked really cool. Plus, it would help him clear away these thoughts. He did often find himself in the air, but it didn't look nearly as relaxing as- whoops!

The bald hero became so lost in his thoughts, that he failed to take note of the lone croissant lying innocently on the ground. It met a grisly fate as a red boot grinded and crushed it into the depths of oblivion.

Meanwhile, Saitama spent a second thinking about how he had lost his footing over the remains of a perfectly good croissant. The next second the sheer momentum sent him flying.

Saitama lost track of time as well as himself. He didn't know how many minutes he spent flying, nor did he know where he would land, since everything in his vision spun like an F6 tornado. However, the bits of metal and concrete getting stuck on his clothes did tell him that he crashed into one or two things.

The experience reminded him of his first time on a carousel. Yes, the carousel may as well have been powered by a tortoise on high heels. Yes, the color schemes matched as well as a lion getting groomed by someone dressed like a hot dog. But at the very least he didn't have debris flying into his mouth.

Eventually the hero crashed into a truck advertising lemon juice. His speed decreased enough that the truck didn't just split in half, but it still managed to put a sizable dent in the side. At first he thought the truck would fall, but he completely forget about the sixteen hover wheels attached to its bottom.

As several people gazed at him in awe, he looked around to see where exactly he crashed. At that moment Saitama spotted something that made his eyes widen.

One of the buildings he emptied was suddenly missing more than half of its foundation, no doubt due to his little accident. The remaining support beams creaked under the weight, unable to hold the building by themselves.

This caused the spire to tilt with so much force, that when it crashed into the adjacent building, it ripped it off of its foundation entirely. A few seconds later, that building began to tilt as well. Saitama could only watch as it smashed another building off its hinges.

Everyone began to panic as probably the biggest domino line in the history of domino lines wreaked havoc and destruction across the reaches of New York.

As he got to work emptying out those buildings, he hammered his brain for a way to explain this to the brass that wouldn't get him roasted.

Fareeha stared at Reinhardt wide-eyed. Half of her refused to believe the complete crap that came out of Reinhardt's mouth. At the same time however, she herself knew that with Saitama thrown into the equation, the realms of possibility didn't just extend; they disappeared altogether.

"I should've known he had something to do with this." she finally admitted. "Did he really evacuate every single person in New York?"

"Yes," Reinhardt replied, before adding, "...and gave them brain trauma. But that's beside the point."

At this point, someone entered their tent, causing Reinhardt to grin in recognition. He gazed at the bed next to his, as he slurped on his udon noodles.

"Oh hey, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

"Only a mild brain brain hemorrhage, thanks to you." Saitama didn't know what that meant. She probably dreamt of something weird.

"Don't think too hard on it, Saitama. She's just had a rough day." Oh right. He did almost drop her, now that he recalled.

"Yeah. Sorry about botching up that whole rescue thing. I guess it's my first time."

"It is?" asked Reinhardt. "Didn't you say you were a hero?"

"Well, yeah, but I usually spend my day punching any monsters or telemarketers I come across. Not evacuating cities."

"That sounds glorious, if you ask me!"

"Yeah, no. It gets boring after a while." In fact, he hadn't come across any monsters since he first arrived here. Not that it would've mattered; none of the monsters he encountered proved to be strong enough to give him that rush of excitement; the feeling of adrenaline that made him feel alive. Sometimes he really missed that feeling.

A few people entered the tent as he pondered these thoughts.

"Oh, hey Genos." He waved to the stoic cyborg. He appeared to be equally as glad to see him. Someone familiar followed him inside. "Hello Haaaaaaa… na."

The young gamer did not look very good. For starters, tears and holes reigned rampant across her blue suit, and her skin no longer sported that light hue. Instead she looked as though she just had the worst sunburn in her entire life, her face completely red as well as the exposed parts on her suit.

"Wow, what happened to you?" Reinhardt stared at her wide-eyed. It seemed he wasn't the only one surprised by this sudden development. "Did you forget your sunscreen?"

"Ha ha. Very funny." Her words came out more harshly than she thought. Not that she cared. Right now she just really wanted to lie down and pretend today never happened.

Another person tipped his hat as he entered. The fact that he dressed like a cowboy didn't bother Saitama very much. After fighting so many monsters who ranged from beans with arms and legs to malformed vehicles, seeing someone dressed like the west actually felt pretty normal. Only when the heroes started dressing even weirder did he start to worry.

However, just like Hana, he got sunburned to the point where parts of his hair were missing entirely, and his clothes were more or less beyond the point of saving.

"This is your master?" He stared at him rather skeptically. "He looks like he got that costume from the dollar store."

Saitama frowned. "You look like you traversed the Tottori Sand Dunes with a giant magnifying glass floating over your head."

"Touche." A third person entered the tent. Though he initially didn't recognize him, he did pique his interest more than the cowboy. After all, he didn't encounter many cyborgs other than Genos, save for that gorilla guy.

As he observed the glowing green stripes that lined his metallic body, he gazed at his right arm, which bore a suspiciously similar hue to Genos'.

"Genos," he pointed at the cyborg's asymmetrical appendage. "I think he stole your arm."

"Fear not master. His name is Genji; a cyborg like me." Genos elaborated. "He and I had an incident, so I let him borrow one of my spare arms for the time being."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No." Both Hana and McCree simultaneously deadpanned. Saitama gave them a weird look.

"Why? What happened? Actually, now that I think about it, where were you guys when that earthquake hit? I circled the city a bunch of times but I never saw you."

The sunburned duo continued giving Genji a dirty look.

Approximately two hours and thirty minutes ago…

"So. Genji. 'Member what I said about bein' moderate when using that flamethrower of yours?" asked a rather agitated McCree.

"...Yes?"

"And do you now understand why, I was askin' you to be moderate in the first place?"

"...Yes." Now that the rescue team had taken out every Talon goon and rescued their captive, getting out of there should have been a relatively easy task, if not for the erupting flames that engulfed the corridor ahead of them. And judging from how loud these flames crackled and popped, it would be fair to assume that the fires continued on into the next room.

"Well, Genos, since it's your first time on a mission, let this be your first lesson. Rule number one: never, under any circumstance, lend any dangerous equipment to anyone, unless you're absolutely sure they can handle it responsibly." Much to the cowboy's surprise, he pulled out a notebook from seemingly nowhere and began jotting down those exact words.

"I thought the first rule was to never lose sight of your equipment?" asked a confused Hana.

"No, no, that's for frontal assaults. This is for bunker raids."

"We have guidelines for bunker raids?"

"We do now. Rule number two: if there is an inferno blocking your way to the exit, with no means of putting it out, then your second best option is to wait for it to die out."

"We're seriously just gonna wait here?"

"We wouldn't have to, if someone didn't burn all of the fire extinguishers!" McCree shot Genji a dirty look. He shrugged in response.

"My frame is relatively fire resistant. I could run up to the surface and get some outside assistance." Genos offered.

"Not sure that's a good idea right now. Dunno what's happening on the surface. But I know that something's goin' down. Might be best if we camp out here for the time being." It didn't exactly come to him as a surprise that Genos would be resistant to fire, since he shot it out of his palms most of the time, but all that rumbling earlier did set off his nerves.

Genji raised a hand. "I have an idea on how we might escape."

"If it involves blasting your way through the ceiling, then forget it."

Genji lowered his hand.

Genos took a good look at the ceiling. McCree did make a good point about the rumbling; if an earthquake hit New York, then this underground bunker would protect them for the time being. In fact, that was probably the whole point of them constructing it in the first place. Unfortunately the cyborg didn't want to wait, especially when lives were at stake. If they couldn't escape through the corridor, then he would just have to make his own exit.

"I have an idea." McCree turned towards Genos. For some reason he felt more comfortable hearing those words from Genos rather than Genji.

"Shoot."

"If I blast my incinerators through the ceiling, then we should be able to climb our way out."

"Wh- That's literally the exact same thing Genji suggested!" Did they have some kind of a pseudo-mental link going on here?

"I can manually control the degree and volume of the fire generated by my incineration cannons to prevent any casualties." argued Genos. "I also have a PhD in escaping underground bunkers."

McCree raised an eyebrow. "Is that last part true?" Unceremoniously, Genos reached into his notebook and handed a slip of paper to McCree.

In really nice cursive, it read, "The University of City Z has conferred upon Genos the degree of escaping underground bunkers, with a major in escaping underground bunkers that are on fire, with all the rights and privileges thereunto appertaining. Approved by the board of people in expensive clothing upon recommendation of the faculty on this twentieth day of April."

Everything from the detailed lining to the golden stamp at the bottom yelled in a really smooth voice 'legitimacy'. Even as he read it over twice he wondered just what kind of hell Genos' world went through for something like this to exist.

"...Well I'll be damned." McCree handed back the slip of paper after reading it over for the third time. "What's the story behind that?"

"Army of cactus monsters. They challenged other heroes to a wrestling match in an underground bunker. The Hero Association sent me in to deal with them, but only after I got this certificate." The cowboy looked at him as though he drank the quenchiest cactus juice in the desert. "I can tell you more about it later if you wish."

"Yeah, later. When we get out of this bunker." Although in truth, Hana really did want to know the story behind that. Genos seemed like such an interesting character. "Besides, we need to see how the others are faring."

"True that. I guess I'll leave this one to you, Genos." McCree stepped back, but not before he said, "Oh yeah, and when this all blows over help me finish those guidelines."

"Very well." He may as well have them perform those special practices while he was at it.

Once Genos found a good spot, he crouched and extended both of his arms. Then they transformed, the flat of his palm shifting into the end of a barrel. The two incineration cannons glowed orange and aimed at the ceiling diagonally, much to Hana's glee.

McCree took that as a sign for him to step back. He stretched one arm in front of McCree and the other in front of Genji.

Wait a minute.

Where did Genji go?

The cybernetic ninja really lived up to his title, when he disappeared from McCree's sight despite standing literally three inches away from him. In the very next moment he found him standing beside Genos, with his right arm outstret-

Oh shit. Was that bastard seriously going to-

"Wait, don't-"

"Incinerate!"

"Ryūjin no Kōen!"

McCree did the second best thing and pulled both him and Hana back, as the combined blast erupted like seven solar flares. They shielded their eyes from the massive glare, but that did nothing to protect them from the intense heat, even though they stood directly behind the two cyborgs. They two felt like they jumped in a tanning bed powered by a nuclear reactor.

On the surface, everyone had enough problems worrying about the ensuing earthquake, so no one could really expect a massive beam of fire to suddenly come shooting out of the ground, decimating the concrete entirely. Many obeyed their flight instinct and fled the scene. The foolish few pulled out their phones and recorded the spectacle, only to regret it a few seconds later when they temporarily went blind.

Just being near the flaring beam caused the paint on nearby vehicles to turn pitch black from the intense heat, seconds before they exploded into a heap of fire. Fire hydrants capsized entirely, and the flood of water that erupted seconds after evaporated near-instantly. The beam of fire passed several buildings and even torched a few, before it reached into the skies, painting over its gentle blue hue with a vehement orange.

Only those from a distance would be able to witness this sight; viewing it from up close may as well have equated to staring at the sun through an observatory. Those that did witness the broad spectacle would remember it as the day the skies themselves caught fire. The two Overwatch agents huddled down in the bunker would remember it as the day Genji nearly screwed them over for the umpteenth time.

After a few seconds, the beam of fire slowly disappeared, eventually fading into nothing and allowing their vision to return to normal. Plumes of smoke drifted into the air while bits of concrete tumbled down the hole. Despite the attack having already ended, parts of the hole remained alit, no doubt due to the magnitude of their combined attack.

Genos gave the gaping hole a confused glance. His counterpart, despite looking impassive, struggled to contain the emotion behind his mask.

"It was magnificent, was it not?" A trace of excitement etched into Genji's voice.

"I suppose." Genos frowned as he looked at his hands. "Though I could have sworn I tuned down the incinerators."

"A mystery for another day, I suppose." Genji quickly clapped out the fire in his palm.

Meanwhile, two sunburned agents laid quietly on the floor, with smoke drifting off of their sunburned bodies. Both of them simultaneously swore they would take Genji's sword and cut off his arm.

"I couldn't resist." were the only words offered by the cybernetic ninja, much to the displeasure of the sunburned victims. Reinhardt excitedly wanted to comment on just how epic such an attack would be, but the glare given by Fareeha made him shrink back.

"One day. Just one day." Everyone shifted their gazes towards the entrance of the tent to find an angry Swiss lady standing there. "I leave you all for one day, and this is what happens."

"Angela? What happened to you?" Fareeha gave her friend a once over. Angela initially traveled to Nepal earlier in the week to deal with an outbreak, only to get called to New York from the conference.

Though the doctor had quite a fierce reputation for looking quite fair at her age, that clearly was not the case right now. Not only did her white leather jacket sport dozens of new holes, her once unblemished skin now displayed several red spots. In short, the doctor looked as though she had been through a cheese grater.

"You too?" asked McCree.

"Yes. Me too." Angela frowned. At least now McCree could sympathize with someone.

"Well, look on the bright side Angela, at least it'll be much easier to spot you in a crowd!"

"Dude." Saitama gave him the stare. So did several other people in the room.

"...Sorry." Fareeha shook her head at her friend's antics.

"So where were you when the earthquake hit? Didn't you say you would arrive later than expected?"

"I did indeed. There was an incident that demanded my attention. Then after that…"

Somewhere around three hours ago…

"Attention passengers," A deep voice echoed over the speakers. "Due to unforeseen circumstances, the train ride will be delayed until the rumbling stops. Please remain calm until then." This elicited a few groans from the other passengers, while others simply elected to remain silent. Angela wanted to remain calm, but that proved to be near impossible with so many questions shooting through her head.

She looked outside the window, where the majority of New York could be seen. Why was there suddenly an earthquake? Were the others okay? Sitting around here wouldn't help ease her worries, but leaving the train car right now might cause a panic. Or even worse, prompt others to follow her out.

But then again, she and her cohorts had gone through so much together. At this point, something a little as an earthquake wouldn't be enough to take them down. She'd just have to trust them to organize a relief effort without her. She would offer her medical expertise as soon as she arrived.

Her mind shifted back to that kid who got all those needles stuck in him. His name was Randy, if she recalled correctly. If only he hadn't gone and tried to do… whatever it was he hoped to accomplish, then maybe she would have gotten to New York sooner, and-

Her thought process self-destructed, as a sudden blur of baldness flashed in her vision for just the briefest of moments, before the train car split in two. Those onboard the train hurriedly looked for something to hold on to as the two halves tilted downwards, having lost the support from the bottom. The passengers seated in the adjacent cars lurched in shock as they suddenly shifted downwards from the uneven weight.

In her moment of shock and awe, Angela had the misfortune of sitting close enough to the gap for a mangled croissant to strike her in the face. Why a croissant of all things, she would never know, for the force of the wheated delight sent her close enough to the severed gap, enabling the temporary vacuum generated by the ghostly force to pluck her out of the train and into the air, knocking her unconscious as well as sending her body spiraling into the air.

From the ground, it was quite the majestic sight; an angelic figure soaring through the sky, accompanied by a flock of birds.

In reality a certain doctor just had the most unfortunate series of events to date, and a bunch of hungry pigeons just happened to spot the mangled croissant soaring near her.

Everyone stared at the doctor with a curious glance, save for Saitama, who continued eating his udon noodles in an effort to seem uninvolved in the conversation. He didn't know that was a train he hit until just now.

Maybe if he offered her some croissants she would ease down once he explained to her what happened.

"So, what happened next?" Hana's question elicited a sigh from the doctor.

Sometime between two and three hours… ago…

Angela rest atop some kind of an art museum, devoid of any visitors due to the sudden tremor. However, a certain avian had no intention of letting her rest in peace. Not with so many bread crumbs spread across her.

To Angela, something small just prodded her face.. "Mhmmm, five more minutes…" As the pigeon searched for more bread crumbs to feed on, the rest of the patrons arrived.

In just a minute, the annoying prods turned into an onslaught of pecks and bites, tearing apart her clothes and jabbing at her skin. The doctor suddenly shot up, flailing her arms around like an ungraceful ninja.

"Ow, ow! Get away you stupid pigeons!" It took about five minutes, but eventually all the pigeons left, now that the breadcrumbs had been consumed, leaving an injured and irritated Angela behind.

Great. Now she just had to find out how to get down from here.

Before she could ponder how she could accomplish that, another rumble shook her feet. Another earthquake, perhaps?

Angela froze at the sound of two massive objects crashing together. When she turned to where the sound came from, she could not believe her eyes.

Where several of New York's tallest buildings should have been aligned, they instead rested on top of each other. Kind of like those dominoes she played with so much as a child. The sight alone made her reconsider testing that strange medicine. Unfortunately, with the way the pseudo-domino line continued, with an apartment building smashing into an adjacent mall, this didn't appear to be some kind of a hallucination.

And only when the domino line reached the street right across the tower she rested on did she realize that she herself stood directly in the path of the massive dominoes.

After several consecutive crashes, a tall spire tilted in her direction, its shadow looming over her comparatively small frame. She should have fled at that moment. Maybe jumped off, and hoped that someone at the bottom would react fast enough to get a safety net in order.

Instead, she just sat down, and let out a resigned sigh. Even though her death seemed imminent, dying like this was just way too stupid for her to take it seriously.

Now she really wished she left more needles in that kid when she had the chance.

Something something… twenty minutes…

"Wait, wait, wait." Fareeha probably wasn't the only one to notice the anomaly in Angela's story, but she needed to confirm it regardless. "If that building fell on you, then why are you still here?"

McCree scratched his burnt beard. "Maybe she asked those pigeons to help her down."

"No. I didn't want anything to do with those pigeons." No one in the tent could really blame her for that. "Besides, it didn't matter. Because…"

Uhhhhhh…

...A sudden beam of fire blasted from below, forcing her to shield her eyes from the blinding light. If this was the transcendence from here to the afterlife, then at least she could appreciate the flashy performance.

For once, she let the inner bowels of her imagination roam freely, no longer restricted by the confines of this reality. If death would grace her like this, then the very least she could do was relive her dream one last time.

She imagined a bald, yet heavenly figure descending from the sky on a golden chariot, his figure complete with a set of abs that combined all of the perfect traits of Chuck Norris, Morgan Freeman, and Gabe Newell. The reins of the chariot were pulled by horses with a coat so pure they would put the Akhal Teke to shame. From the depths of the light, the chariot landed on the rooftop. His arm, garbed with the silkiest of cloths, reached out to her. Angela accepted his hand.

But alas, just like all of her dreams, this one died in the pillar of fire that painted the sky orange. No golden chariot descended upon that roof. No horses with their pure coats of fur came to her. No heavenly figure, whose anatomy put her valkyrie suit to shame, came to retrieve the doctor. Instead, the light died down, dashing any and all hopes of a glorious transcendance. Instead, the fire shot into the sky, leaving behind the beheaded remains of the spire.

Angela opened her eyes, and blinked a few times. She almost cried, as her heavenly descent into the afterlife faded into ashes.

She knew she shouldn't have gotten her hopes up.

At this point in time, the other agents of Overwatch accepted the disastrously powerful beam that decimated the subterranean area of New York. Besides, they had seen stranger things. Or at least, that's what they thought, until Angela began reminiscing her 'glorious transcendence.' Now everyone knew why the woman dressed like an angel. Except now they wish they didn't.

"...Was that part really necessary?" McCree had almost choked when she started going on about her 'vision'.

"A woman can dream, Jesse." Angela huffed.

"Angela, let me tell you right now, that some things are best left unsaid." In his mind, he couldn't help but picture the 'heavenly figure' she described like an oiler version of George of the Jungle.

The thought alone made him shiver.

"Hey, McCree." Saitama's expression got serious all of a sudden. "Don't insult a woman's dream. If I didn't pursue my dream of becoming a hero, then I'd still be broke and looking for a job right now."

"Yeah. Not cool McCree." Reinhardt crossed his arms. McCree didn't really understand why he was being antagonized all of a sudden.

Fareeha gave her bedridden friend a strange glance. "Reinhardt, why are you even agreeing with him?"

"I dunno. I haven't said anything in a while."

Angela, who really didn't expect receiving so much support for her 'dream', wasn't sure how to respond, except for, "Thanks… I guess?"

"I must know, Mr. Saitama. What is your dream?" asked Genji. He seemed extremely interested in knowing, the way he clenched his fist like that.

"To be a hero, I guess." Saitama shrugged.

"Very noble of you, Mr. Saitama. Though I shall always pursue the path of a ninja." Genji posed, causing Hana to cringe.

"And why is that?"

"Tell me, do you know what a hero is?" Genji pointed a finger at him. "Heroes will share their sake with other people. But ninjas will steal it all for themselves. I want to steal all the sake!" Genji pounded his chest with his fist.

"...You and I have very different definitions on what a hero is." deadpanned Saitama.

"Yeah, where the hell did you even get that Genji?" asked Hana. At least Saitama proved to be more knowledgeable when it came to being a hero.

"During each month, everyone stockpiles their coupons, waiting for the right moment. The stores will try and distribute the coupons evenly." Saitama jabbed a thumb at himself. "But I want all the coupons for myself!"

Hana stared at him slack-jawed. Why she even had faith in him in the first place, she did not know.

"So, uh, what does that have to do with being a hero?" McCree stood there confused. Even if it did have zero relevance, he at least wanted to try and get a better grip on Saitama's character.

"Villains, monsters, they'll all steal from the supermarkets. That's against the law. However!" The hero raised his fist into the air. "Heroes will never stoop down to their level! It's a completely different story when us heroes use these coupons at the supermarket, is it not?!"

Silence reigned throughout the room, save for Genos, who scribbled furiously in his notebook. He could not afford to let his master's words of wisdom go to waste.

Then slowly, Reinhardt clapped. Genji followed soon after. Pretty soon the entire tent burst into applause, save for Fareeha, who, at that moment, believed that these people had finally lost it.

"Psst. McCree. Why are you clapping?" asked Hana.

"Why are you clapping?" McCree couldn't find a proper response for either question.

Fareeha could only shake her head. If this is what the strongest man inspired in other people, then she dearly hoped that she wouldn't get pulled into their pace. Even Angela, who dealt with the others' antics on a regular basis, somehow found herself becoming inspired by the words of the so-called hero.

"Everyone, everyone." Fareeha called their attention once the clapping down died. "It's been a really long day. I think I speak for everyone when I say we could all use some rest, so why don't you all head back for now."

"Do you need some aspirin?" asked Angela.

"No. Just need to lie down."

"I think the two of us need more than a rest at this point." Hana pointed at both her and McCree, before leaving the tent.

"I should probably attend to those two. As soon as I fix up myself, that is." Angela followed them out.

Saitama saw Genos leaving, and asked, "You have somewhere you need to go, Genos?"

"I need to speak with Hana regarding something."

"Oh. Okay." Genos then left the tent, closing the curtain behind him.

Though they all left on Fareeha's word, they each silently agreed that the inspiration left by Saitama would leave them thinking through the whole night.

"Saitama. I need to talk to you about something. Please, take a seat." Saitama gave her a quiet glance. Then he placed his empty noodle cup on the counter, and took the stool beside her bed. He shifted a little, clearly not comfortable with the size of his seating.

"So. What did you want to talk to me about?" he asked. Fareeha lay flat on her bed, staring silently at the ceiling. Today had indeed been a strange day. In fact, it would be surprising if she encountered anything weirder after the events of today. But the strangest feeling was how accepting she was for all of it. Did Saitama see things this way?

Well, that didn't matter right now. If anything, it made things a little simpler.

"Jack said something interesting to me earlier, before all of this. I've been thinking about it ever since. As you already know, we are quite a small force. We've increased in numbers over the past few months. At first I thought, given enough time, we could amass our forces, and in doing so gain strength through numbers. But now I know that will never work. Especially when groups like Talon are rapidly pulling ahead."

Saitama only listened. In his head he made a mental note to remember that Jack was the guy with the red goggles.

Fareeha sat up so she could look Saitama in the eye. "I've always wanted to become a part of Overwatch, ever since I grew up around it. It's hard to describe, but I guess seeing my mother in uniform inspired me. The world may see us as criminals, but I've always believed that we can restore Overwatch to its full glory. I still do."

"...Okay. But why are you telling me all of this?"

"Saitama. Whether you know it or not, you started something the moment you appeared in Caligo. You being here alone has changed the rules of the game entirely. We can't go back, even if we wanted to. That's why we have to stand together, and brace ourselves for what happens next."

She paused for a moment, contemplating what she was about to say. "That's why… I need to know now if you'd like to stand with us." Fareeha bit her lip. Maybe saying this wasn't as easy as she thought.

"...Oh, if you're talking about that conference thing, Reinhardt already told me all about it." Saitama jabbed his thumb behind him, where Reinhardt rested. He waved at her innocently.

"You already-" Fareeha should've known Reinhardt would do something like this. "...Jack told you not to tell him, Reinhardt."

"True, but he didn't tell me to not not not tell him." Fareeha was too weak to even argue at this point. "Besides, it's all good. He gave me the A-OK."

"He did?"

"Yeah, I did. Honestly, I kind of wish you guys told me beforehand, and I still want to find a way home." Saitama frowned, but his expression lightened. "But I think you guys are pretty cool. And besides, I still have to pay back Reinhardt for buying me food."

"You're joining us because Reinhardt bought you food?" Fareeha threw her head back onto her pillow. She didn't even try to understand him any more. "You know, sometimes I wonder if there's even a brain under that bald head of yours."

"Don't call me bald. At least I'm not into harem anime."

"What the- WHO TOLD YOU- ugh…" Fareeha suddenly didn't feel so good. The yelling caused some bile to rise up in her throat, but through sheer will she forced it down. "You know what? Just forget it."

Unbeknownst to the trio, a certain gray cyborg stood outside, listening in to their conversation. His lips curled into a smile, before he walked away.

No matter what would happen, he would trust the decisions of his master. Nor would he interfere with the path he chose for himself.