Note: This story is set in the late 2000s, around 2079-2080. Overwatch is trying to recruit new members to try to prevent world havoc without being shutdown by the UN because of the Petras Act. Talon is attacking everywhere, the Omnic Crisis is nearly repeating itself, and no one is capable of doing anything. Winston hears of a vigilante crime fighter in New York and tries to convince him to join Overwatch. Then the crazy rollercoaster ride begins. More will be revealed later on.

Chapter I: Bluecoat Strikes

In a relatively quiet part of Chicago, it's a normal night in March, except for a dark van parked outside of a wealthy looking house. This house belonged to none other than famous omnic coach Sean Levine, responsible for bringing his school to multiple state championships, making his house all the more targeted by the gang that terrorised the city.

"Come on, hurry up with that loot! We need this delivered to the boss by midnight!" The leader of the heist shouted out. Being one of the highest ranked members, he was needed to get past the house's complex security system, his years of hacking coming into play. As his 6 lackeys carried various goods into the back of the van, Sean laid on the floor, beaten by the gang almost to the point of no repair. His lights continued to flicker on his head while he watched years of work be taken away with nothing to stop them.

"That's seems to be it," stated one of the grunts as he took in the outside of the house one last time before heading into the van full of priceless goods. "Hey, where's that recruit? Thought I told you to keep eyes on 'im," stated the boss, seeing his crew one short. "He was heavily drinking and said something about taking a piss," someone said in the back. "What are you waiting for? Bring him back here!" Without a second of hesitation, two of the five remaining grunts left to retrieve their drunken mate.

Upon making it to the backyard where he went to handle business, the duo found him face first in a bush. Trying not to snicker, they pulled him out, only to find a needle embedded into his neck. "Dude, you see th-" Another one found its place in the neck of the other grunt. Before long, he collapsed nearly falling into the pool behind him. Now on edge, the remaining thief pulled out his handgun, cautiously walking around. "I dare you to show yourself," he growled, hearing rustling in the hedge as a response. Gun aimed, he pulled back branches of the bush, only to find a stray cat looking for food. He sighed in relief, before getting kicked in the back of the leg. The last thing he saw? A man in a coat and the butt end of a pistol.

"These kids are making this the most unpleasant heist I've had since my first," sighed the leader. A thud is heard as one of the grunts falls over. "Hey, look at this!" exclaimed one of them as the leader rushed over, another dart found in the neck with unmatched precision. The final two are shut down by what seems to be EMP bullets, not killing them but rather shutting down their circuits. The last one left is the leader, armed with a silenced MP5.

"Enough games, kid! I'll blow your head right off!" shouted the leader. The car engine started by itself not long after. Cautiously with his gun raised, he opens the cabin, only to find no sign of forced entry. He turns around into a right hand landing right on the hinge of his jaw, knocking him to the ground. The gangster tries to reach for his gun again, but is stopped by a boot stomping forcefully on his hand, nearly breaking it immediately. Crying out in agony he squirms to no avail. As the thug looks up, he sees a figure that has only been rumored. The blue coat barely visible in the streetlight is the only indicator of who he is. The figure kneels down before bashing his nose with the butt of his own gun, knocking him out.

1st person POV:

After checking to make sure he's unconscious, I stand back up. The Black Division have terrorised this city for too long, and if the cops aren't going to respond, I have to stand up for this city myself. I like to think that I've done my job, but that's far from the truth. This is only a fraction of the people associated with them, and I'll be damned if they don't hunt me down. I here movement inside the house. Maybe I missed one?

As I walk in, I marvel the inside of Levine's house. He was the main reason Seabrook High School had any type of reputation around here. Hell, he tried to recruit me for the football team before I left to join the army as soon as I turned 18 in August. Who would've guessed that this would end full circle? I see his body on the floor, heavily beaten, but still functional. I don't know much about omnic care, but I try my best to set him up on his couch before handing him a phone nearby. "Thank you," his voice box manages to get out. "How can I repay you?" I grin behind my mask. He's still as generous as he was 8 years ago. "I don't do this for money, Levine. Use that phone to call 911. My job is done."

"Wait," be struggles to get out. "Are you the one I hear about on TV. Bluecoat is it? You sound a lot like someone I remember from my golden age of coaching." I turn back around. Sean Levine, the omnic that has put almost 20 years of his life into doing something he loves. Seen as a father figure to most on the team. Over a dozen championships won for the Titans under his coaching. Did he deserve the answer I was about to give him? Maybe not, but I have to keep myself as secretive as possible, at least this version of me. "Don't tell them anything you might suspect about me. Keep it to yourself." With that, I walked out of his house.

Next morning, 10:07 AM...

The light coming through my window blinds me enough to the point were sleeping is no longer an option. After stretching my sore body, I get up and do my regular morning activities. After walking out of the shower and dressing for the day, I turn the TV on to the news channel since nothing interesting comes on until later. The first thing to come on the TV is the headline that was bound to happen.

MYSTERIOUS "BLUE COAT" STRIKES AGAIN.

I finish pouring the milk into my bowl of Lucio-Ohs and listen to the remainder of the news story. The onsite reporter interviewing Levine asks the question everyone in the city wanted to know "Do you know who this person may be?" "The only thing I remember is a blue trench coat."

"If anyone has a tip to finding out who this man with a blue coat is, please contact the local police." As I eat my cereal, thoughts go through my head. What do the police want from me? Do they see me as a prisoner or as aid to their cause to shut down the gang running roughshod? I have to push these thoughts to the back burner of my mind as I head out to do errands.

Location: Watchpoint: Gibraltar

POV: Winston

After sending out the recall, there's been very little activity done on the watchpoint. The only people that have been found and contacted through Athena are Angela, Genji, Jesse, and Lena. Tracer is the only one to reply and has plans to show up tonight. Until she shows up, I need to make sure everything is prepared.

"Winston, there has been reports of a vigilante in Albany, New York." This grabs my attention because while it's normal to get alerts with high attention, it's normally Talon and never a vigilante. "Hmm, is there any information on who he might be?" "His nickname 'Bluecoat' has been given to him by local news stations ever since January of this year." This is rather odd. How come there is no information on this person? In the middle of my thoughts, I get a call notification on the screen. After reading the name, I immediately press the accept button.

Winston: Long time no see, cowboy.

McCree: Same can be said for you.

W: So you're deciding to join overwatch I see?

M: Damn right

W: That's great! Although there's one favor I need to ask you before you return.

M: Depends. Don't wanna waste my rounds.

W: Hopefully you don't need them. Besides, we still have plenty of rounds from before. I've gotten news of a vigilante in Albany, New York. If you're up for it, I need you to see what his motives are and possibly recruit him.

M: Bit of a travel from where I'm at, but nothin' I can't do.

W: Great! I'm sending a dropship to your location from Grand Mesa. The flight should be about 10 hours from your location in Arizona. Message me if you can afterwards.

M: Makin' it seem like I ain't gettin' out with that "if you can." Catch up later.

After hanging up the call, I admire the view of what will soon be Watchpoint: Gibraltar, bustling with activity like the old days.

Location: Chicago, IL

Time: 5:32 PM EST

POV: Bluecoat

After my run through the local park, I head inside my house and shower. Afterwards, I decide to relax for the first time in a while by watching TV. Not even a minute later I get a knock at my door. It's probably the kids ding dong ditching again. As I open the door, I'm greeted by a familiar face I'd never thought I'd see again.

"Jesse?"