Jesse McCree sat huddled over his meal like a wolf protecting its only meal of the week, eyes raised in predatory zeal between bites, lowering only upon Genji's entry into the kitchen space within the Watchpoint, an admittedly pitiable area for lunch, a remnant of schematics and blueprints drawn up for a station meant merely for a handful of individuals to take residence in. That was a testament to the glory days of Overwatch- back when the sheen of these hallways matched the magnificent monuments to the men and women who walked them- back before the cracks began to form, before so many people around Jesse had grown old and nearly decrepit, torn apart, or otherwise a shell of their former selves.

An ache ran through his metallic arm as it rested atop the table's edge, leaving his true arm, as he often thought of it, to remain the vehicle of sustenance. His eyes flashed upward, once again, to find Genji approaching him, forcing a prayer beneath his breath as he focused on his meal, hoping he might just leave him be.

"Jesse."

"Fuck," the smoky-faced man breathed low, shaking his head before looking up to greet Genji with an unenthusiastic, "Bot-man."

Genji snickered as he sat down across from him, all sense of decorum vanishing as he slid low into the seat, dropping a metallic canister onto the table, "Z's got me on some regiment. Some shitty brew of earthroot, beets-"

He whirled the canister around atop the table, "-some guy's foot, from the taste of it."

"Whoop-de-doo," Jesse grumbled, running two fingers along the bridge of his nose.

"Supposed to help my body regulate- I guess everything," Genji sighed, dropping his head backward behind the chair, "Stuff doesn't even taste right anymore. You ever get that?"

McCree eyed him sardonically, "I'm, like, a fifth of what you are."

"Still," Genji shrugged, "Everything always has this metallic, rusted taste to it, even when I can down a steak or something. My entire body's just iron and numbers- always with the numbers; blood serum, hemoglobin, fifteen other counts I wouldn't even hope to remember. I don't-"

"You got something meaningful to say?" McCree demanded with a brutish tone, grabbing the edge of the table as though to keep his emotions in check, "or did ya just show up here to complain?"

Genji eyed him curiously, shrugging, "Figured it was like old times. Two dudes shooting the shit, as it were. Talking about-"

He stopped himself with a chuckle, rubbing what remained of his chin, "Dude. You taught me that one."

Quickly adjusting focus, Genji's eyes wandered toward Jesse's food, "What'cha eating, anyway?"

"Fuck off."

"Oh, it must be good!" Genji asserted with a quick grab which McCree instantly parried, knocking the metallic arm down into the table with a fearsome blow, causing Genji to laugh as he recoiled, "I'm just shittin' around, is all."

Jesse glared at him before returning to his meal, sloppily dipping some bread into a bowl of sauce, which Genji caught notice and found revolting in the same moment, nearly retching as he complained, "Eh, doesn't look good, anyway. Nothing ever does."

He sighed, "Breaks my heart to think about kissing Fujitsubo- how this rusted taste might have even soured her."

"You haven't a heart," Jesse muttered.

Genji chuckled, sitting up in his chair and opening the canister, "Touché. Not my original heart, anyway. You've still got one of those, right?"

Jesse stared at him from his downward posture.

"I read up on the reports. Pretty fucked what all you had to endure," Genji surmised plainly, taking a swig of the nutritional concoction before immediately lurching forward, fighting back the urge to spit up, "Kuso! This taste runs through everything but food that's already disgusting!"

He quickly offered the canteen to Jesse, "Wanna taste?"

McCree rolled his eyes, "After that display?"

"It'll wake you up, that's for sure," Genji assured with a tone laced with regret at his doctor-conjured meal, "How's that? What is it, pork chops and-"

He leaned in closer to get a better look at McCree's plate, earning him another swipe, forcing the cyborg to chuckle, "-and vegetables. I saw some condiment, too."

Jesse drew his arms up before slamming them onto the table, leaning forward before challenging, "Why are you here? I'd like to eat in peace."

"Figured we could catch up. Hadn't seen you much since our Blackwatch days," Genji reasoned, taking another swig, nearly gagging once again, "I'm a lot less man, and plenty more metal, since we last spoke. "

Jesse watched him with a tense stare before slowly returning to his food, as though somewhat sated by the man's response, leaving Genji to continue, "I always knew where I stood with you. I never had to worry about you putting on a façade- you were always just yourself. I've always felt as though I could interact with you in kind."

He shrugged, "I was lost back then. Lost in years of anxiety, trying to understand how I could be authentic, myself, when more and more of me disappeared."

"That's why I quite like the company of Dr. Zeigler, as well," chuckled Genji in reverent thought, "I surely wouldn't drink this shit for many other people. But I never have to doubt her interests in my as a human being- seeing me do all that I can, despite having sliced my knee in two, herself. I know she feels guilt, and yet-"

He paused as though knowing he'd gone too far, simply returning, "The same with you. Even when you're being a jackass, I know it's you- not some act ."

Jesse frowned as he released a sigh, leaning back in his seat, "It's garlic aioli. Trace brought from home."

"Ahh," Genji admired from his seat, "Disgusting."

A boyish smirk creeping across McCree's face, he chuckled in disbelief, rubbing his face, "All that bullshit and you aren't even interested in stealing my food."

"I don't eat dog food, or garlic," Genji explained with tempered disgust, waving a hand toward Jesse.

"There's was a time when you ate my dust, so I figured you'd be fine with this, and that shake of yours," Jesse mused in amusement.

Genji smirked, resting his arm atop the table, "You can keep your bullets. I actually make this look good."

"No wonder you never stopped losing body parts," came Jesse's pithy reply.

Chuckling, Genji shook his head, turning his head to glance at the wall, lost in thought. Jesse went on eating, only perking up as his former companion spoke up with an air of nostalgia.

"Brothers can be a pain."

Jesse shrugged, "Can't say I disagree."

Genji's fingers clacked at the tabletop, "There's always been something that's nagged at me- thinking so much about myself, who I am. I'm more metal than man, and where the line is drawn between what's a brain in a jar and what's Genji Shimada."

"My father raised my brother and I exactly the same. So how is it he and I are so different?" he wondered aloud, not particularly in search of a reply.

Jesse wiped his lips with a napkin before taking a drink, answered simply, "We're only shaped by our nature and our upbringing. It's those moments, when the heat is on, that truly form who we are- that define us."

"So how did Blackwatch define us?"

McCree glanced up at Genji, studying his eyes as they narrowed in ever vast thought. Perhaps that was why he'd been sought out.

"This some of your meditation crap?" Jesse wondered in scathing critique.

Laughing behind muted lips, Genji's eyes lit up, "Perhaps. I'm supposed to peer forward, but- I suppose there's some closure I need. Why did Reyes become what he is while you and I are…"

"Because when it came down to it, Gabe chose his own self interests over all else," Jesse explained, "I chose Leslie and our kids. Tells you the kind of men we both were."

He looked up toward Genji, "And what did you do?"

The cyborg thought for a moment, allowing Jesse a chance to elaborate, "I gave up my life in Blackwatch. Leslie told me I either had to stop smokin', or stop killin'. I made my choice. You have to make your own."

"Hmm," Genji mulled in thought, crossing his arms.

"We did a lot of good," Jesse reminded.

Genji shrugged, "Only if you count good in a certain sense."

"We saved a lot of lives," Jesse reasoned lightly, "More than I'd ever had in a prison. That's enough for me."

Breathing deeply at the thought, Genji's brow raised in surprise as he turned back toward the table, resting his elbows there, "You've done quite the introspection yourself."

Smirking, Jesse admitted, "Bein' out west is the best form of meditation. Better than your Omnic guy."

"Zenya- Never mind, you don't care," Genji shook his head.

"Still astute as ever," Jesse teased, finishing up the last bite off his plate.

Genji watched, mind churning in recollection, "I haven't seen you smoke since you've been back."

"I quit," was all he said in reply.

"This is certainly unorthodox," Ana groaned, squeezing her eyes behind two fingers, "You two both realize how lengthy and extensive that ledger is of people who've spent years on our watch list of potential recruits?"

Winston and Lena both turned toward her, as though a mere glance would satisfy her irritated inquiry, before perking at one another with only Winston explaining, "Well, I mean- He proved himself down in Aus-"

"One mission? One moment of stellar exercise?" Ana charged pithily, "If we bring such a recruit into the fold, think of all the future recruits that suddenly make the cut! You've got Manu from Alexandria joining Overwatch just for helping an old woman cross the street!"

Winston frowned, "Think of it as a professional courtesy. Mei was adamant about his abilities, and besides, we hadn't yet been reinstated. We weren't exactly able to play by the-"

"So my daughter just quit her job at Helix and strode on into Gibraltar like a fine howdy-do?" Ana interrupted with a dry expression, her wrinkles settling nicely into such a face as she'd so often made in her life.

Lena scoffed, smiling, "Pfft, of course not; that's ridiculous! We sent a dashing agent with a scrupulous command over space to recruit her beforehand! We'd never ask somebody to quit a job before having another position assured!"

Winston frowned as his head fell into the palm of his hand, Ana's face going unchanged as Lena explained, desperately, "Oh, come on, can't you take a joke?"

"Gosh, it really has been a while since you've been around me," Ana gasped with frustration.

Shooting an open hand toward the massive pane of glass overlooking the training area, Winston asserted, "Okay, you can criticize us for accepting a rough-and-ready recruit, but look at him? Junkrat is highly capable and- I mean, who among us would ever consider lunching themselves into a mine field to disable such a trap?!"

"Junkrat..?" Ana muttered lowly, purely disgusted by the name.

Lena replied brightly, "or Junkie, if you prefer! That's Mei's name of-"

A chilled glare met her as Lena immediately veered back toward serious, "Or Jamison…"

"Just give him a chance," Winston begged, "You told me years ago, should Fareeha ever be considered, that I would run her through her paces- have her prove that she was ready, and I did just that. I only ask that you extend the same chance to Junk- Jamison."

Ana sighed, massaging her forehead with the butt of her palm, "..fine. Amp it up, though. Program 464."

"Pro- Ana!" Winston pleaded, "That program nearly killed Fareeha during her-!"

Ana shrugged, "Afraid he won't measure up? We have no use for members who can't run the paces."

Winston shared a worrisome glance with Lena, whose thumb was furtively running along her chin, before groaning into his speaker, clicking it on.

"Hey. Junkrat."

Within the training grounds, rolling around in a pile of target Omnics for some unknown reason, Junkrat immediately leapt up into attention, plastering his open hand against his forehead with a yelp, "Y- Yessir?!"

"You ready for me?"

"Oh, you betcha!" he exclaimed excitedly, "I was born ready!"

Winston paused before speaking in reply, "It's gonna be pretty difficult this next round."

Pumping a fist, Junkrat smugly retorted, "It's no problem-o, mate! Even if I end up dead, my skin's so callous, I'll prob'ly make a good meat shield, anyway!"

Ana's eyes shut in irritation, hiding a frown onto for Winston's benefit as the gorilla of a man nervously bit his lip, "O- Okay, just- Be prepared."

"Aye-aye!"

Junkrat braced himself before a metallic wall for cover, peeking around the corner before returning to his firearm, the clunkily constructed apparatus only appearing to be hanging on as he filled it back to the brim with grenadier rounds, readying it to fire before piddling through the exercise course with little attempt at subterfuge. Watching with increasing disinterest, Ana finally perked up once Junkrat rounded a corner right into the arms of one of the training dummies, which immediately readied its live ammunition. Without missing a beat, Junkrat merely fired an explosive round at his feet, the massive explosion sending the Omnic drone into another manufactured wall, tattered as it was, unable to progress as it short-circuited, leaving Junkrat to escape the large plume of smoke with a cackle, shaking his head in disbelief as he plodded further into the course, nary a charred mark upon him as he progressed.

"He's insane," Ana almost marveled at the sight before her.

Lena assured, "Nah! He's Junkie! Go! Go! Gooo!"

Without much more consideration, Ana dropped her head, "I've never seen a more stupid strategy in all my days."

"He's been doing this for hours," Winston chuckled, "It seems to be sound for him, at least. I don't know what's in the water down there, but he's got a thicker hide than I do, even."

Ana groaned, "Fine. I can't help but find some sense of being impressed, even if his tactics are utterly reckless and lacking in any sense of decorum. There's something to said for being a living projectile, I suppose. I certainly wouldn't call it helpful, nor would it ever be of much use in battle. It's far too manic in its usefulness, first and foremost. If Junk- Jamison's wholly devoted to this style of combat, it simply can't be counted upon to be consistent. Second of all, the collateral damage would be catastrophic at this rate. Thirdly-"

"Ever the general," Winston grinned, avoiding the pithy state at his side, "I would argue that, with all the tape on Overwatch, we might could use some…unorthodox methods. Especially considering our enemy… Not only does Reyes know us as well as we know ourselves, but Talon never went away. While we sat in the dark, awaiting recall, Talon was improving, growing, remaining quiet to prevent any public outcry about Overwatch returning, but becoming ever stronger all the same. We're the ones at the disadvantage here, don't forget."

Rolling her eyes, Ana let loose an exasperated sigh, "I suppose you have a point."

"You play by the rules, Ana. That's a beautiful thing, and what we need to rely on at times," Winston expressed in warm reassurance, "But so long as Talon has that same rulebook, we need to bend the rules where it's necessary."

Rubbing her face in disbelief, Ana groaned, "You have a point. Just so long as you're comfortable with him at your side in combat."

"Pshaw!" Winston sputtered in a heated scoff, "I ain't fighting anywhere near those grenades! I'm here to advise from afar!"

Cursing in whispered Arabic, Ana turned away in disbelief, her ears ringing as a nearby console began to blare in alarm, immediately stealing Winton's attention. She turned to watch as Winston hurriedly spun in his chair, face ruffled in concern as he scrambled closer to the console.

"Athena?!" he spoke up in confusion, "What's going on?"

"Foreign presence detected," the robotic voice blared through the loudspeaker overhead, "An attempt is being made to infiltrate my sys-"

Darkness.

In a split second, the Watchpoint's electricity shut off like a switch had been flipped. Throughout the base was met the perplexed expressions of all of Overwatch at the sudden development; not even the emergency generators had come on, disabled, too, as they'd been. Such a protocol having been overridden immediately threw alarmed interjections of thought into Jack's mind, the soldier immediately taking off toward the door, leaving Mei and Angela behind, pausing at the door only to instruct, "Drop it. We're reporting to the control room."

"But-!" Mei pleaded, only for Angela to take the device from her hands, leaving it on the medical table before pulling the scientist along.

"Go!" she instructed, "I'll be right behind you after putting this room on manual lockdown!"

Angela began reaching for physical levers in the doorway as Mei stared at her in horror, "B-! What-!"

"Mei," Angela spoke in a low, authoritative tone, "This is only a drill, alright? Go."

Her insides a mess in only an instant, Mei fought back tears of terror with only a wrenched sound of agreement passing her lips as she turned to follow Jack, who had already vanished, leaving Angela with the rushed task of securing Michael's still-comatose body.

"Fuck…" she uttered in bitter annoyance.

"Reinhardt?!" Fareeha shouted into the men's sauna, desperately throwing on clothing as Zarya followed suit, though she had already begun toward the gym's entryway.

A guttural voice replied from within the sauna, Reinhardt shouting like a bear haven been awoken, "I know, I know! What the hell is going on?!"

"No idea," Fareeha answered, stepping into the gym and toward Zarya, who remained staged by the doorway, speaking lowly, "There are emergency power generators that run on nuclear power generators. Short of the Earth itself coming to an end, I don't think they're supposed to fail so dramatically."

"Odd behavior," Zarya reasoned in low tones, "Best to play safe. Where is meet up location?"

Fareeha thought for a moment, "I suppose the control room. Winston was there putting Junkrat through the paces, but we need to stop at the med station on the way; they're equipped with emergency communicators- shortwave radios- that won't be hindered by the outage. Winston'll be using those to get our bearings."

"Best be careful," Zarya frowned, slightly opening the door to peer out, "Not first time this station has been invaded, I heard."

Fareeha frowned, thinking in broader terms of that med station- of Angela. She turned to find Reinhardt chugging along toward them in a state of harried dress, grumbling as he joined them at the door.

"Of all the-" he muttered in complaint.

The trio complete, Zarya slipped through the door with the others in tow.

Jesse's eyes leapt up to the ceiling as the lights shut off, the room illuminated, now, only by the sickly green neon lighting emitted by Genji's suit, leaving the small kitchen area with a pale mood. McCree rubbed his chin in displeasure, slumping low in his chair.

"S'pose I won't be gettin' a bath tonight," he sighed, trying to make out Genji's form through the darkness and beneath the sheen of neon light that concealed the shadows of the background, "Can you shower in that thing? the tin can?"

Genji settled in, chuckling, "You wish I could. I don't have to- Huh."

"What?"

"Communication's down," Genji muttered, his internal connections having gone quiet, "You'd think there'd be backups or something."

Jesse shrugged, "Maybe."

Genji sat there with increasing concern. He cycled through his cyborg body's myriad systems of communications- wireless, Bluetooth, even the esoteric magnetic system of communication that was implanted within him- before finally switching to the shortwave AM radio, his thoughts whirring through frequencies as static rang out inside his head, coming to an abrupt halt at Winston's voice.

"…hear me..?"

His voice with deathly low.

Genji clicked at an internal mechanism, "Shimada and McCree reporting."

"I'm staring at them through the closed-circuit systems…" Winston spoke as though death had found him; had had him wrapped in its clutches, "Report to the control room as soon as possible…"

Genji slowly rose to his feet, not daring to miss Winston's response once he spoke up, Jesse following his lead,

"See who..?"

"Akande Ogundimu. Doomfist. He's outside."