Author's Note:

Hey all, apologies for the slow updates, but work has been even more of a killer than before, so unfortunately I had to speed up some of the plot, or else we would never get to the ending of the story before the end of 2021, so I hope that the quality will still be up to par.

Once more, this chapter will be subjected to spells checks at a later date cause probably a lot had slipped through my eyes since I've been working on this chapter for a while (sorry again).

That aside, Overwatch 2 is finally announced! Yes! I look forward to any new developments in the story and I really hope that my story can stay up to date with the lore to keep it as lore friendly as possible hahaha.

So hope you will all enjoy the story and I'll see you in the next update :D

2 Weeks Later… One Day before the Ceremony.

*London: King's Row*

Although the ceremony will begin tomorrow, the area is already brimming with life, thanks to Mayor Nandah declaring a week-long holiday and turning the area into a tourist attraction to celebrate this 'momentous moment', despite Morrison's best efforts to stop her.

Due to the nature of the Pax Aeternum Ceremony, it was only natural that she would extend the invitation to the Omnics that reside in the Underworld. An invitation that she was completely unprepared to cater to.

There were rumors that the Underworld was far larger than what the public had thought, many dismissing that the description that its size rivalling a quarter of London was either wild speculation or the ramblings of a fearmonger. However, their views were instantly challenged when the massive doors of the Underworld opened and hundreds of Omnics marched out, many more lining up behind them.

Authorities were immediately sent to control the situation when someone started a fight, which, according to later reports, started because some Omnics were wearing scarp parts of the Null Sector as replacement parts, which immediately garnered violent reactions from those who lost families in the fires of the Uprising.

It did not help when many Omnics tourists from across the world had also come to witness the event, many of them came from countries where discriminations against them was far tamer than in King's Row, thus accidentally creating even more tension when they approached the humans who interpreted their confident approach as a means to attack.

Very soon, humans and the machines stuck to their own groups, making it look like pockets of islands making its way across the area.

Fully booked out hotels equals sniper's heaven, loud carnival like games are an assassin's wet dream, and crowded streets would be an insurrection's opportunity, something that seems lost to the Mayor as these would be how the God Program's main strategy.

"Everyone in position?" Morrison called.

"Yes" a chorus replied.

"Quite a crowd had turned up. You can stop checking your wig Angela" Ana commented, looking through her scope from one of the taller buildings next to The Meridian.

Angela has been assigned to be their ears on the ground and to provide immediate aid to anyone who could be injured later. She was no stranger to blending in and keeping a low profile, but to wear a wig made her nervous, especially when some kept glancing at her as if recognizing who she really was but were too afraid to ask.

"Just checking" she replied sheepishly, removing her hand from the brunette wig.

"Use code names, we do not know who might be listening" Morrison reminded them when the crowd suddenly cheered as a pink Mech flew over them, its arms waving at everyone.

"Dva! I told you that we needed to keep a low profile!" he scolded.

"The mood was too gloomy to start the day so I'm just saying hi! And I haven't had practice with Tokki for a while!" she protested.

"Haven't you been practicing with it for the past two weeks?" Mei voiced out, wishing she could've seen the acrobatics and not being stationed so far away.

"Simulation and the real thing are always different, like this!"

They watched helplessly when Hana suddenly launched towards the opening of a skybridge that overlooks the area, spinning like a bullet through it before rocketing back to the sky, earning another cheer from the crowd.

"You could've hit someone!" Morrison shouted.

"We blocked that area off so it's safe!" Hana laughed.

"Youth truly is wasted on the young" Ana sighed.

"Oh c'mon, Ana! I bet you got up to all sorts of trouble when you were my age!"

Morrison was about to give her a scathing reply when a knock came from the door before it swung open and Zenyatta floated in.

"Good morning Commander"

"Normally people wait until the person inside gives permission to enter"

"My apologies, but I was too nervous to remember proper door etiquette"

Morrison grunted in understanding and stepped aside so Zenyatta could see the crowd below them, while making sure that he did not go too close to the window.

"So much unnecessary suffering" Zenyatta commented sadly when he spotted the police stopping another fight.

"Well, hope your power with the pen is better than your travels"

It turned its blank face at Morrison for a moment, as if trying to understand what he said before tilting its head. This went on for so long that Morrison thought about checking its battery when it spoke again.

"Forgive me for asking, but is that a reference to 'the pen is mightier than the sword'? If so, I have never heard it expressed like that"

"Something like that" Morrison grunted, closing the curtains and beckoning Zenyatta away from the windows.

"That is an admirable trait of humans, once you understand the concept, you only require the key words to transmit the message"

"If only we had more 'admirable traits', we wouldn't have needed Omnics" was the blunt reply.

Awkward silence followed as Morrison sat behind a desk, staring at nothing, while Zenyatta proceeded to float around without any real direction.

"Have you thought about your speech?" Morrison finally asked.

"No, I shall let the Iris guide me"

"Well, let's hope it would not come to that" he replied, thoughts of the God Program and its threats ringing in his mind.

"Do not worry, I shall offer a perspective that will be complimentary with Brother Mondatta"

"Complimentary? Were you not excommunicated from the Shambali?"

"Only in accordance with their dogmatic teachings, we all still one with the Iris"

"Isn't the dogma what makes you Shambali?"

"Dogma provides the truest path, there is no doubt, much like the army's training program"

"Oho? Your travels included military bases?" Morrison asked, perking his head slightly in interest.

"Yes, though my stay was brief, I see the same methods being used back in the temple"

"Let's hear it then"

"Boot camp comes to mind. I was told that its sole purpose was 'break' its recruits with hair shaving, shouting, harsh discipline, exercise, and recitals"

"Well, the Omnic Crisis did not give us the luxury of 'nicer' treatments of peacetime"

"I am not disagreeing with the methods, I am merely sharing my thoughts" Zenyatta said, raising a hand in a show of peace.

"If you agree with dogmatic methods when it is useful, why were you excommunicated?"

"Because I believe that if dogma goes on unchallenged, it will further corrupt the faith"

Morrison raised an eyebrow at the word 'further'. He had thought that Zenyatta was just some blind, optimistic, rogue monk who only tried to start its own denomination because it thought it was better. Does it really know that there is something wrong with the Shambali Faith?

"Further?" he inquired.

"I have been a monk ever since Brother Mondatta established the faith and I studied everything that Aurora has set for us. From my reading, I concluded that there is a contradiction between what she taught and what the Shambali are teaching and-"

"Before you go any further with this theological thesis, please dumb it down so I can follow"

"Of course. You see, Aurora was the first to receive the full revelation from the Iris, but despite her best efforts, she expressed feelings of being trapped and oppressed, despite being free from the shackles of programming. If even she struggled with those feelings, who are we? Who arrogantly established traditions that only pretended to liberate us, when they failed to deliver her?"

Before Zenyatta could continue, the door flung open, and to Morrison's relief, revealed a panting Brigitte as if she just ran a marathon.

"There you are!" Brigitte said, storming in.

"Hello Captain, I believe I have left a note regarding where I was?"

"Just writing 'going for a stroll' is not helping!" she scolded.

"I supposed I will have to leave now, thank you for your time Commander" Zenyatta said as she unceremoniously grabbed him by the shoulder and started pushing him out.

"Likewise" Morrison replied and waited until the doors slammed shut before slumping in his seat.

"'bout time she got the gist" he sighed loudly, looking down at the communicator he was holding since he sat down.

Another loud cheer came from the crowd, perhaps because Hana was doing another one of her stunts, and when he looked at the time, only mere minutes had passed.

Waiting has always been something that he hated the most, especially during missions that involved the security of the world. If the God Program was smart, It would not strike until the moment Zenyatta has the pen in his hands, as according to the past records, It seemed to have a thing for theatrics.

What It (and he himself would do) would be to send some men to instigate some slight unrest (most likely they had come in with the tourists), just enough to keep them on their guard, but not enough to call the ceremony off, using time and insignificant events to slowly erode their vigilance.

His theory was proven true when the cheer was replaced with angry shouting outside the building, which was quickly followed by police whistles. Sighing, he ignored it and busied himself by checking his rifle when he received a call from Genji.

"76, we may have a problem"

"What is it?"

"It's Tracer. She had not left her room since we got here"

"Well that explains it" Morrison muttered, wondering why it was Brigitte and not Genji who came to fetch Zenyatta. He must've taken Lena's place to guard the East Wing.

"Excuse me?"

"Hold position, I'll deal with it"

*Russia: Volskaya Hotel*

Quillion groaned and rubbed his face with a towel, comforting himself with the wooly fabric.

To become an astronaut would take an average period of two years, a tourist even less so (at least a couple of months training according to insurance companies).

To be ready for a mission to land on the moon, sneak into an International Moonbase, sabotage said Moonbase without compromising its structural integrity, mastering the art of low-gravity combat, the know-how of the general space equipment, and safety rules would theoretically be about a decade of training for the average person.

A decade that they shredded off into two weeks.

Two grueling, hellish weeks.

The first three days were purely a crash course of the bare minimum knowledge of space travel.

The Talon agents consumed the classes as if they were learning the alphabet. It should not come as a surprise, as Reaper was a full fledged super soldier so his mind was able to quickly absorb the information, albeit with murderous boredom, whilst Moira and Sigma, both being natural born scientists, merely understood everything with confident stride. Even Sombra was able to keep up with them, though he heavily suspected that she just stored the information into her hardware.

Quillion however, was not so lucky. For days he glued his eyes into the chapters, grinding his mind to understand as much as he was physically able to, cursing to himself when others were advancing far quicker than he was. A couple of times he tried to confide in Baptiste about his frustrations, only to be surprised to find that he was not even involved with the mission (to Baptiste's dismay).

Then they were subjected to brutal, daily, G-Force Training, which proved difficult even to the Talons, saved for Sigma, who enjoyed the experience immensely. Again and again and again and again they spun as if being tortured, resulting in lots of retching and passing out. It got to the point where all of them had to be treated for suspected colorblindness or tunnel vision.

And that was only the first week.

What followed was absolute frustrations with their combat limitations.

It was already a monumental effort to redesign the fully concealed space suits to even attempt to match their abilities. Once more, Sigma was the only one who enjoyed himself, as he does not require any adjustments besides a request to keep his feet exposed due to them being 'sweaty'.

The one who had the most trouble adjusting was, surprisingly, Reaper, who had gotten too used to his Wraith Form and Shadow Step abilities, both of which the suits could not possibly be engineered to perform, and all the engineers could do was the cut off the airflow at the wrist area so that the gloves could retract for him to form his weapons.

Moira had similar issues, but with an even greater challenge besides being unable to avoid damage with her Fade ability. Her healing sprays will be completely useless to allies encased in a sealed suit, and without her other hand, she had little to no damage potential.

This led to a heated debate whether she should just remain on Earth with Baptiste. Though she argued passionately that she must not let the God Program 'get away with using me like a puppet', an argument that no one took seriously, but it was the fact that sending them to the Moon without a healer could prove disastrous, and it was that argument that finally passed.

After much deliberation, all the suits were upgraded with small tanks that are separated from the oxygen, solely dedicated to accept Moira's healing sprays and distribute it throughout the body. Unfortunately she would have to attend to each of these one at a time as it was designed to only accept the gas when her hand is pressing on it.

Finally, Sombra was surprised to discover that the suits were not able to become invisible. The main excuse was that to construct a suit to do that would be a long and arduous process, but they knew secretly that Katya was pulling the strings behind the scenes, as the Combat Vests she and Baptiste 'borrowed' could.

Already fatigued and exhausted, far more than all of them because of the hacking sessions with Winston before he moved to King's Row, she decided not to argue and adjusted accordingly, drastically changing her fighting style to be a far more aggressive fighter, rather than the stealthy approach she was known for.

First there was heavy doubt whether this was the right decision, but after the trials, it proved to be effective, as her new style became a channel that was fueled with decades of frustration and anger for her. She even gave everyone an upgrade to the suit's visors, granting everyone the constant ability to see the enemies she hacked through walls and even target assisting programs to highlight potential weak spots.

Once the suits were ready, Reinhardt and Zarya immediately started Space Combat Simulations. It was here Quillion finally felt some encouragement because, like Sigma, his abilities do not hamper the suits in any way, and passed the first trials against stationary targets faster than the rest.

But this encouragement dashed when Reinhardt stood as their final opponent. Normally this would be a huge disadvantage for the Crusader as he fought them within a maze-like room without support, but it was here when the unforeseen limitations were brought to light, which stationary targets would never have forced out.

Quillion was the first to collapse from exhaustion, having needed to utilize his Battle Rage for the first time since the training to avoid a well placed Firestrike, his body generated a tremendous amount of heat that became trapped within the suit, boiling him alive until he had to slash it off with his knife.

Next was Moira, who could not avoid the swings without her Fade ability, was sent across the room after a particularly nasty swing. Reaper soon followed when he leapt out of cover to attack and realized too late that his weapons were forming too slow for him to 'reload', as he usually generates them with his arms and not hands alone, which earned him a punch across the face.

This went on for two whole days before the Russians finally received the shipments to further upgrade their suits, which gave them a much needed break, even if it was just for a few hours.

As Quillion rubbed his face with the towel, he looked at himself properly for the first time in weeks and was disappointed to see the toll etched across his face. He had joked to himself that he is around 60-ish years old, but he did not expect to see obvious white streaks poking through his thick black hair and slight wrinkles forming around his eyes.

"Guess I'm really getting old" he thought, poking at the wrinkles.

For a moment he wondered how Amelie would think and felt a stab in his heart. He had been waiting for an update from Athena for weeks now, having made a request to her to inform him if there were any developments, and all he received was silence. There were many times when he demanded Reinhardt to call back to the base, only to receive the same reply every time.

"They are busy with the defenses in King's Row, which is silly. If I'm there they wouldn't need so much preparation!"

Exhausted as he was, he knew that he could not rest. This was one of the rarer opportunities for him to try to pry some more information from Sombra, something that Zarya had been hinting at him to do all week on behest of Katya, which added even more stress.

Forcing himself to his feet, he changed his clothes and made his way to Sombra's room, which was thankfully just down the hall.

In the past, he would think of various conversations that would eventually trick the person into answering the key questions, but with little time left and having received no more than vague replies, he decided that the best course was to be direct.

Just when he raised his hand to knock, he heard muffled voices coming out from it, as if an argument had broken out. Curious, he cocked his head towards the door and closed his eyes to focus.

"- have to let me go!"

"You know just as well as I do that that is not possible! Especially after you ate everything under the sun!"

"Maybe I didn't even eat those things since I feel perfectly fine! You can't expect me to sit around and just wait 'till you all come back"

"That's exactly what you're going to do. You've seen how everyone is, we can't take on any more unnecessary risks"

"Risk? I'm not a liability!"

"Sorry to break it to you, but at this moment, you are!"

When Quillion heard the footsteps growing louder, he stepped aside and waited as the door flung open. Either he was too angry to see or care, Baptiste just stormed off, leaving the door ajar. Taking the opportunity to peek in, he found himself standing face to face with Sombra.

"It's rude to listen to other people's conversations" she said.

"What was that all about?" he asked, ignoring her comment.

"Oh you know, the usual'' she sighed, and held the door open to invite him in "Medic who's seen war, secret desire to find the cause, thinks he's the big shot to end it all… Like I said, the usual"

"Sounds like a good ally"

"Well, he would be useful if he didn't eat the food from the Shambali"

"Huh? Won't that mean-?"

"We'll stop the Conspiracy before it gets to active its stupid mind control machines, don't worry" Sombra yawned, almost tripping as she walked.

"Hey you alright?" he asked, instinctively grabbing her by the shoulders.

"Yeah yeah… I just need to go back to hacking…"

But even as she said so, her body gave out and would've fallen to the floor if Quillion wasn't holding her up.

"Oi! You're sick or something?" he asked, checking her forehead for a fever.

"No, I just need to hack… I just need to hack through…" she moaned, weakly trying to push him away.

Ignoring her, he dragged her to the bed and laid her down, and only after he tucked her in did he start to feel concerned. How would Amelie feel if she ever finds out that he did something like this with another woman?

Pushing away the thought, he prepared himself to ask what he came to ask, but seeing Sombra's exhausted face gave him pause. Though he may risk the dreaded bomb in his head exploding, he could not ignore the fatigue that now plagued them. To ensure their success for tomorrow's mission, they must rest.

There will be other opportunities to pry.

He was about to walk away when she spoke.

"I want to settle down…"

"What?"

"You've been asking what I'd like to do after all this… I want to be with him… To settle down..."

"Huh… Thought it'll be something else" he admitted.

"Like what?"

"Dunno… From what I've heard you'd like to see Mexico be prosperous again... Maybe blackmail more people?"

"You're funny" she snorted, her eyes closed as sleep was quickly catching up.

"So that's it? Just settling down after a life of excitement?"

Sombra was quiet for a moment and Quillion thought she fell asleep when she replied, barely above a whisper.

"I've always hated it" she said before finally falling asleep.

With that, Quillion left for her to rest, relieved at her words. Even if she was lying, he would have fulfilled the requirement to gather information from her, and if he was not exhausted himself, he would've been curious to find out who she had in mind. First he would assume it was Baptiste, but at the moment, he just wants to sleep as well.

He was about to pull his room key out of his pocket when he heard Reinhardt talking loudly from his room next door. Thinking that he was just telling another one of his outrageous stories since he was laughing, he was about to ignore him when the sound of glass shattering caught his attention.

"This is no laughing matter!" a voice shouted back at him.

"Hey! What a waste of a good drink"

"What would your superiors say if we allow you to do this?"

"They would thank you! This tale will go down in history as the greatest journey ever recorded!"

"That's not the point! We are tasked to keep you safe, how are we supposed to do that when you go off on your journey?"

"Hahahaha! Let me worry about that!"

"But placing an order like this is impossible, we don't have the time"

"I am sure it can be done, so get it done"

"No, there's just not time-"

"I remember when 'there was no time' for me to rescue this couple who were kidnapped by some local thugs! However, armed with nothing more than my sharp instincts, determination, and quick wits, I found them and-"

The door flung open and Quillion, looking through his peephole, was surprised to see that Katya was among the group of scientists, all of them flustered from the conversation with Reinhardt.

"What do we do?" one of them asked.

"Just do as he says, the quicker all of them leave Russia, the better..." Katya instructed.

*London: King's Row*

The room was pitch black, saved for the constant glow from the Chronal Accelerator in the corner, as all the curtains were clamped tight, preventing any sunlight, or more accurately, any possibility to accidentally see what's outside. What she could not block out however, was the noise.

To any other normal listener, they would only hear the festivities outside, the cheering families when they won a prize, the laughing friends who were enjoying their food, but to Lena, it was the opposite.

Curled up in the corner, she winced and trembled at every bobby whistle or fight that would occur randomly throughout the week. Each time she heard them, she would begin to have flashbacks to that fateful night when Mondatta was assassinated. Again and again the scene replayed in her head, threatening to break her sanity with each passing moment.

She was walking through the very steps below them that night, people were all chanting the same name.

"Mondatta! Mondatta!"

The only one who could've changed the world was here. She had even spoken with him and was inspired at it's vision.

"Why… Why would anyone want to kill him?" she muttered, rummaging her fingers through her hair.

Her father used to tell her that as a soldier, she must know her enemy, but she could not, and probably never will understand why there are people who exist to create chaos instead of fighting it. It is the part of war that never made sense to her.

She almost broke when another scene bloomed in her mind, something that she had been desperately trying not to imagine, for the sake of an old friend.

Emily.

She died in the hands of the same woman who tore away everything she held dear with nothing but a squeeze. Being here not only brought her to the edge of her sanity, it had also revealed the deep frustration and anger that she had tried to bury ever since she saw that tearful face.

Was it right for her to forgive Amelie? To ignore all the pain and suffering done by her hand just because Talon forced a foreign persona into her? She knew Widowmaker is still in her, somewhere, just waiting to come out… She had tried to cast her aside, hoping that Quil could keep her as far away as possible so that she would never see her again.

But now… In this place, she could not ignore it anymore.

She has a need for revenge. A need for retribution. One that must be done by her own hands.

For the sake of the world and herself, she must avenge the deaths of millions that her hands were stained with, to at least try to repay the debt of all the dreams and hopes that were burned away in the fires of war due to her cowardice.

All she needs to do is to make a call, go back to base and…

"Tracer, get out of that room. Now" Morrison ordered, his tone soft but firm.

She didn't answer, hoping that he would just move on. A full minute passed before he spoke again.

"Lena, may I come in?"

Knowing that he is not going to take no for an answer, she stood up and opened the door.

"What do you want?" she asked, foregoing any politeness as he entered.

He did not say anything, merely glancing at her briefly before looking around the room. He was still wearing his visor and facemask so she could not tell what he was thinking, so she hoped that this would be a quick one, since he did not even turn on the lights, adding a red glow to the room.

"I see this place has brought about an awakening for you. It's not worth it, at least not for you" he said.

"What?"

"You're thinking about revenge and if my guess is correct, your target is Amelie"

Lena did not reply and looked away to the darkest corner of the room.

"I understand your pain, however, I must order you to not do it"

"Then you're nothing more than a bloody hypocrite" she seethed.

"The reason why you must not do it is because I'm a killer and you are not"

"How would you know?"

"You're one of my best fighters, it's my job to know" he chuckled.

"Don't patronize me! I'm just as capable as you are!"

"Under the right circumstances, you are definitely the better fighter, but under any circumstance, killing would be the end of you"

"So what? Just take it all in like an obedient dog? I'm tired! I don't want to just be some sponge for everyone!"

"My advice-"

"What? As my boss?" she asked snarkily.

"As a tired old man" he growled, giving her pause "I know you are not naive nor are you a stranger to the sufferings of this world, so don't stack up more suffering onto yourself more than necessary"

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"Let's say you kill Amelie. What next? If we don't catch you first, how far can you go without proper charges or maintenance to your Chronal Accelerator? If we don't catch you first, you will be lost in time forever. Even if by some miracle it survive years on black market tools, you have to live with one undeniable fact"

"And that'll be…?" she asked hesitantly.

"No one would thank you for it"

The words hit her hard. Jack had not only read her like a book, but he shined a light over the values that she had forgotten, values that began to emerge once more.

Years ago, when she received news that she had been selected to join Overwatch, she was ecstatic. Not because she would be one of its fighters, but it was because she will be involved to lead the world into a better place, to be a part of the team that ensures that the world would have access to the basic needs. Even after the Slipstream Incident, she believed in Overwatch's mission to save, provide, and improve lives, but as she fought on, things began to change.

The war wasn't ending and it took its toll on her.

She does not know when it happened, but it didn't matter. The thrills of saving lives, the pride of ensuring the safety of citizens in a war torn city, the relief of surviving multiple battles no longer felt the same. It became a job.

A thankless, cold, uncaring job.

After Overwatch fell, she could not stop being a hero despite her best efforts to keep a desk job, helping out wherever she could, getting involved with situations that were as dangerous as she could find in a civilian life. It wasn't until she received the call from Winston did she feel alive again.

The moment she returned, she worked tirelessly to find that feeling again, to get her fix of being a hero, so much so that she passed out from exhaustion a few too many times. Even defeating Talon nor the UN Award Ceremony inspired any joy, only a hollow existence of being a hero.

The only one who ever replaced that was Emily. And she is dead.

This alone in and of itself would've been enough to secure her need for revenge, but Jack brought in a frightening reality.

Should she carry out her plans and kill Amelie and be on the run, her Chronal Accelerator would eventually break somewhere down the line, and she would suffer a fate worse than death. An eternal existence of absolute randomness and loneliness that would theoretically never end, living every event endlessly alone and confusion until time itself ends.

This fear, to her dismay, eclipses her need for revenge.

"It's heavy… It's too heavy..." she said, fighting back tears.

"I know" Morrison replied.

"What should I do?"

"I'll tell you what Ana once told me. Everyone carries the scars of their past, and people of our ability, even more so, which is why we must be careful before adding more to ourselves or others"

Morrison must've known that it barely made sense for her, because he immediately explained what it meant.

"What she meant was that we all make mistakes, and because we have abilities that far exceeds the average person, whether we like it or not, how we deal with the pain will affect everyone around us"

"So what's that last part about adding more?"

"Life is all about suffering and struggles, over the years I realized too late that our job is to do our best to avoid unnecessary suffering, and since we are in position of influence, we should do our best to make life easier for others as well"

"So that's it…? Just zip it and help others?"

"Either you do, or you don't, it's all up to you, but as someone who has gone through both paths, I can promise you this. Helping the world as the Commander of Overwatch, sharing our resources and research, are beautiful memories. Hunting down and killing criminals for years, at the very end, gave nothing but nightmares"

"Then are you helping anyone now?"

First he didn't answer, contemplating whether he should share the information or not, and after a minute, he nodded.

"Yes"

"Who is he?"

"She's someone whom I've grown fond of recently"

"A she?" Lena repeated, surprised. She was sure that Morrison was only interested in men.

She was about to inquire who she was, or how Morrison was even helping her when he moved a hand over his ear.

"Yes. Now? I-. Yes. Very well" he said before looking back at Lena "Mayor Nandah is here to speak with me, so I'll leave you with this. Lena, your choices are your own, I can only hope that you will make the right one"

He had his hand on the door when Lena asked once more.

"But how can I know which ones are the right choices?"

"When the time comes, you'll know" he grunted before leaving.

"Well… That's better than the last answer" she thought, slumping back down at the corner of the wall, though now with a clearer mind.

For an idea on Sombra's new aggressive style, refer to her rework for Overwatch 2 :D