"What do you mean, it isn't done?! She'll be here any minute!"

Torbjorn Lindholm was, under the best of circumstances, a bit of a hothead. He found himself very easily angered, especially when in high-pressure situations. And, despite having lived and prospered through the toughest of situations during the Omnic Crisis, there were still instances in which Torbjorn would feel the pressure mounting and, in turn, his temper rising.

The arrival of his daughter was one such high-pressure moment.

"Will you be patient, Torbjorn? I'm baking as fast as I can!" Mercy was, indeed, in a whirlwind of cooking and preparing for Brigitte's imminent arrival. "Everything is mostly done, anyway. Sombra, preheat the oven to 400, please!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." Sombra was sitting on the kitchen counter, reading through an e-magizine, then waved her hand through the air. The oven glowed with purple light as it was turned to the proper temperature. "There. Can I go now? Not that I don't want to meet the new girl, but Papi is going out on his mission in like 10 minutes and he's expecting me to tag along."

"He explicitly told you not to tag along."

"Duh, that's why he's expecting me."

"Haha! I'm ready to help, Angela!" Into the kitchen bounded the massive frame of Winston. His entire body was covered in a massive hairnet, with several smaller hairnets helping in the containment of his hairy body. "What do you need?"

"Oh, dear, I'm sorry you went through all that trouble…" sighed Mercy as she slid the pie into the oven. "I'm afraid I've got everything squared away."

"Awww…"

"That look suits you," noted Sombra with a snicker.

"Will you two get out of here!" snapped Torbjorn. "I don't want you two mucking about and making a fool of yourselves in front of my baby!"

Booming laughter shook the foundations of the OverHouse, adding to Torbjorn's frustration. Time was up, and nothing was ready. Most of the house was empty, leaving Mercy, Sombra, Winston, and himself to prepare the OverHouse while Reinhardt went to meet his squire and escort her to her new home.

"We're here!" called Reinhardt as he entered the house. He followed the smell of delicious food to the kitchen, swinging the door open and striding into the kitchen.

"Papa!" A young woman stepped in behind Reinhardt, carrying luggage and, strangely, an animal carrier, and wearing a wide, genuine smile. She was of a slightly muscular build, with reddish hair and a splattering of freckles across her face. She wore a simple tanktop, leaving her arms bare and showing off the Ironclad Guild tattoo on her left shoulder.

"Brigitte!" And, just like that, Torbjorn's frustration melted away as he wrapped his arms around his youngest daughter. "It's so good to see you!"

"You too, Papa. I've missed you." Brigitte laughed as she hugged her old man before looking up to the others. "Hello, Angela! Winston! It's great to see you both!"

"Mein gott, Brigitte!" Mercy abandoned the oven to wait her turn for a hug from Brigitte. "You look more and more like Ingrid every time I see you!"

"Aww, Angela, it's been so long!" She gave her friend a hug, returning Winston's well-meaning, if awkward, wave before turning her attention to Sombra. "Hello, we've not met, have we? I'm Brigitte Lindholm."

"Ay dios mio, you're Torb's kid?" Sombra smirked, fanning herself with her hand. "When I think of what Torbjorn's daughter would be like… I dunno, you're, a lot more, eh… como se dice…"

"Tall?" offered Brigitte.

"I was gonna say 'hot', but sure. You're taller." Sombra shrugged, then stood up and shook Brigitte's hand. "Sombra, resident computer expert. I hear you're a mechanic type of girl, eh? I've been shopping around for some armor, maybe you could—"

"Sombra! Hurry up!"

"Ay, that's Papi. I gotta go." Sombra snapped her fingers, digitizing a scrap of paper with a series of numbers scribbled onto it. She made a phone gesture with her fingers and waved as she translocated away. "Call me!"

"And we're sure we can't get rid of her?" grumbled Torbjorn. "I don't know what Morrison was thinking, letting her stay in the first place."

"Don't be so harsh, Papa. I thought she was very nice." Brigitte slipped Sombra's number into her pocket before stretching out her back, clearly stiff from her long trip. "So, where's Commander Morrison? I was hoping he'd have a job for me to do."

"Bah, you're just like your father!" complained Mercy. "You just arrived, you should be getting situated, meeting your housemates."

"Ah, she's just become too used to adventure!" declared Reinhardt. Mercy shot him a look of disapproval, and his demeanor lowered slightly. "Eh… But Angela is right. You should at least get settled into your room. There will be plenty of time for action later."

"Oh, fine. I'm just excited to finally be able to do my part." Brigitte grabbed up her luggage, with a bright, genuine grin. "Although I am curious to meet the others. If they're half as interesting as that Sombra girl, I doubt there's ever a dull moment around here."

"That is an understatement…" Mercy turned her back to the party of heroes, focusing on her cooking and cleaning. "Winston, would you kindly help her to her room? Jack has her down with you."

"Of course. Let me get these bags for you." Winston crossed the room and grabbed up the remaining luggage, lifting the animal carrier last. "You've got a pet, I see."

"I hope that's okay. He's a tiny little thing, found him in an alley. No clue how he got there, but he looked so lonely in that little scrapbox, so I brought him with me." Brigitte leaned in and pulled open the cage, slowly extending her open hand towards its opening. "Come on out and say hello, little one."

After a moment, a small, yellow hamster scurried out and onto Brigitte's palm. He squeaked almost curiously as he surveyed the room, his beady little eyes stopping on Winston. As their gazes met, Winston let out a gasp of disbelief, a scowl working across his face.

"How did you get here?" he demanded. The hamster could do little more than squeak in response before scurrying back into his cage. Brigitte frowned slightly, closing the carrier and taking it from Winston.

"It looks like you scared him," she said. Winston shook his head, then began leading the way to the basement, where Brigitte's room was waiting.

"I can assure you, he's not afraid. If there's anyone who should be scared here, it's us. That thing is a menace."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" asked Brigitte, unable to tear her eyes from the peculiar sight before her. Her little hamster was in the middle of Winston's sizeable work table, surrounded by scraps of metal and machinery. Brigitte knew her way around some complex mechanisms, but this was above her pay grade currently. "He's just a hamster."

"No, he isn't." Winston nudged the spare parts forward. "Come on, let's get on with this already."

The hamster looked from Winston, then to his owner before scurrying towards the scrap before him. Brigitte watched in wonder as the little critter scramble, dragging metal plates and circuitry together. It wasn't very long at all before he turned Winston's random assortment of parts into some sort of chassis. There wasn't much to see of the machine, just what appeared to be a round face plate with several wires and components hanging out of the back. The hamster stuck his little paw into his mouth and yanked on a tooth; the false tooth popped out of place, revealing itself to be a tiny flash drive, which he stuck into the machine. A light in the middle of the machine lit up, the entire device powering on.

"Wrecking Ball online." The machine spoke in a deep, cold, mechanical tone.

"Why are you here, Hammond?" asked Winston.

"Hammond?" Brigitte was amazed. How could her little pet have done all this? "And I'm guessing you know him."

"Unfortunately. Some people may erroneously consider us… brother." Winston glared at the hamster with contempt. "He was an experiment on Horizon, like me. But he escaped, last I heard he was in Australia. So I'm curious to know how he just so happened upon you and Reinhardt on your way here. Seems quite serendipitous." Hammond squeaked and chittered, scurrying behind the half-constructed Wrecking Ball and finaggling with its components to make it speak.

"Systems corrupted. Require parts to repair."

"Of course you do. Well, if you're going to stay with us, you're going to work. I'll let Commander Morrison know." Winston shook his head, then went about cleaning his work station of the scraps Hammond left behind. "I apologize for reacting the way I did, Brigitte. If you knew half the trouble this little vermin caused… In any case, I'll let you get settled in. Tracer and the others should be back soon, they'll want to meet you."

"Alright. I think I need a moment to absorb this…" Brigitte slumped down in her seat. "I mean, Papa and Rein have told me some pretty crazy stories, but… a roboticist hamster? I couldn't even imagine an animal doing something like this. Eh… No offence to you, Winston."

"None taken. I can certainly understand your shock. But just try to expand your imagination a bit. Imagination is the essence of discovery." Winston grumbled slightly, still visibly annoyed by the newest animal member of the OverHouse. "Besides, in this house… You're going to have to get used to weird."

"I like to think I pick up on things pretty quickly. No need to worry about me."

"Good. Between the ghosts, cyborgs, cowboys, and evil scientists, this place can get pretty intense."

Brigitte chuckled as Winston trudged away, shaking her head at the situation. She offered out her palm, letting Hammond scurry into her grasp. She hasn't settled on a name for the little guy yet, so she was very glad to learn that he already had something to go by. She poked his tiny, twitchy nose, giggling at the adorable little rodent.

Then, after letting it stew in her head for a bit, what Winston said finally clicked in her head.

"Wait, did you say ghosts?!"