In the aftermath of the Geneva disaster, Angela had relocated herself to Paris, unable to stomach the sight of the city. Although she had been born in Switzerland, she'd prefer to never return. It had been difficult for Angela to return to work following the disbanding of Overwatch, but she was still a much desired asset to hospitals all over the world. She had chosen Paris in the end for convenience (and because the medical facility offered her free housing).
Angela flicked her signal as she turned into the small parking lot designated for doctors, despite the roads being empty. She parked her small vehicle in the first empty spot and killed the engine. She was usually the first to arrive at the hospital, her shift starting at 5am. Angela scooped her bag up from her passenger seat before shutting and locking the door. She turned on her heel and began walking to the entrance designated for employees of the hospital. Her heels cracked softly against the pavement. It was still dark at this hour, a soft glow on the horizon barely illuminated the sky.
A dull white light hummed above the staff entrance, occasionally flickering. Angela wondered if they needed to call an electrician to check the wiring as she dug in her bag for her key card. She rummaged around, pushing aside an empty tin of mints and various crumpled receipts, before feeling the vinyl cord from which the card hung.
The small ID card was worn with age, the protective film peeling at the sides. A five year old photo of Angela was centered on the card. She wore a closed-mouth smile in the photo, her hair tied back in her signature ponytail. Despite the smile on her face in the photo, it was apparent it didn't reach her eyes. Below the photograph in a thin, black font read: Ziegler, Angela M.D. Sometimes Angela wondered if maybe in another world she could have been Dr. Reyes.
Angela placed the key card against the cold metal scanner and with a beep-click, the door unlocked. She pushed through it feeling a rush of heat engulf her as she exited the chilly morning air. With a clunky thud, the door shut and locked behind her. She felt an uneasiness, peering over her shoulder at the tiny tinted window at the door. There was of course nothing there, but for a moment, she had felt like eyes had been on her. She shook off the feeling of nerves and continued onward.
Moments later Dr. Ziegler was on the fourth floor of the HĂ´pital Parisien where her office resided. She slid her key card once again over a metal plate. "Good Morning, Dr. Ziegler" the AI voice of the door chirped. Angela crossed the threshold into her office and walked over to her desk.
The office was smaller than the one she'd had at Watchpoint: Geneva, consisting of a plain white desk and a single office chair. On top of the desk sat a state-of-the-art computer, equipped with a holograph based CPU. Hanging on the wall to the left of the desk was a sleek glass frame which held her medical license and doctorate degree.
Angela slumped down in her office chair, dropping the bag on the floor next to her feet. She glanced at the time on her computer as she booted up the time clock software. It was 4:58am. After logging in, she opened up her calendar. She groaned as she looked at the several red marks, each indicating an appointment. Her first was at 7:00am. She slid open the small drawer to the left of her desk and pulled out a thick stack of reports she needed to get through before lunchtime. She sighed, dropping them on her desk with a thud. Time to get to work.
Angela had been drowning herself in her reports for the better part of an hour when there was a light knock on the door. She was startled and glanced at the clock. It was only 6:20, she shouldn't have any patients yet. The light knock repeated.
"One second!" She called out as she stood and headed for the door. She approached the door and flipped the unlock switch. The door slid open, revealing one of the nurses.
"Hello Natalie," Angela said, forcing a smile, "How can I help you?"
Natalie was a petite woman with copper hair, blue eyes and a spray of freckles across her face. Angela recalled that the young woman had just transferred to the hospital full-time after completing her nursing degree. She noticed the young nurse looked nervous, fidgeting with the hem of her smocks.
"There's a woman here to see you," Natalie said with a hint of fear in her voice. Angela's brow furrowed.
"I'm sorry Natalie but you must tell her I'm not accepting visitors without an appointment."
"Oh, that won't be necessary, I'll only be a moment ," purred a velvety voice.
Angela tensed as she recognized the owner of the voice. A tall Irishwoman appeared to have materialized out of nowhere. The woman had shock fiery orange hair on her head, cut close in a pixie style. Her eyes, once both golden, now mismatched, one of them a deep purple. She wore a black turtleneck sweater, dark slacks and booted heels, complete with a white lab coat. Her left hand was discolored a pale purple as darker veins ran up her arm.
"Please excuse us, Natalie," Angela said to her subordinate. She could see the relief wash across the nurse's face as she muttered a 'thank you' and scurried away. Angela turned her attention to the woman at her door.
"Ms. O'Deorian," Angela said, clearing her throat and forcing a smile, "Fancy meeting here."
"Dr. O'Deorian," Moria replied with a curl of her lip.
"Ah, yes," Angela said, "However I seem to recall your medical license being revoked."
"No thanks you, Doctor," Moria hissed before regaining her composure, "However that is water under the bridge."
Angela highly doubted Moira's statement. In the year leading up to the Geneva attack, she had discovered her colleague's unethical experimentation. Angela had of course reported the incident to the United Nation which had resulted in Moria's immediate termination and the revoking of her medical license. Moira had taken the expulsion with an icy front, promising Angela that she'd regret her choices someday. Angela often lay awake at night wondering if Moira had played a part in the Geneva attack, but she supposed she'd never know. Until the present moment, she hadn't seen or heard of her former colleague.
"What do you want?" Angela asked with mock politeness. She crossed her arms over her chest.
"Why, I simply wish to discuss an invitation to join me and my colleagues at Oasis," Moria purred.
"I'm not interested," Angela spat, "You and your colleagues discredit the medical field with your unethical practice."
"Oh really? " Moria replied with a sneer, "How many scientific advances have been achieved through equity?"
"Plenty," Angela snapped. She was growing more irate by the second.
"Shame," Moira laughed, "You're quite brilliant Dr. Ziegler, but you allow your own reservations to stop you from achieving your true potential."
"I wasn't aware I needed your opinion," Angela hissed. "If you've only come here to irritate me you've succeeded."
"Oh no," Moria said with a bark of a laugh, "My invitation still stands." She produced a sleek black card with a blue lotus flower and extended it to Angela.
"As I've said," Angela said with a hint of disgust, "I am not interested. If that's all, you may find the exit down the hallway and to the right."
Moira scowled but quickly smoothed out her features, retracting the card back to her person. "Very well," she said, "But if you ever change your mi-"
"I won't, thank you," Angela said firmly, "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do."
Moria chuckled and turned on her heel to leave, but before doing so spoke a final line, "I truly hope you don't live to regret this, Angela."
Before Angela had a chance to react, the woman was gone as if she had dissipated into smoke. Angela slammed her fist onto her desk, trying to erase the feeling of dread that had clenched at her gut. What the hell did this mean?
"Dr. Ziegler?" Angela snapped her head up to see Natalie peering in the doorway. She relaxed the tension in her shoulders and unfurled her fist.
"Yes, Natalie?" She responded, trying to hide her anxiety.
"Your first patient is here."
Angela spared a glance at the clock. 6:58. "Very well," she said, clearing her throat, "Please assign them a room. I will be there shortly."
Natalie nodded and ducked out of view. Gottverdammt Angela thought. A migraine was starting to form behind her eyes. She pulled open her top desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of over-the-counter painkillers. She poured two of the little red-blue capsules into her hand. She popped them into her mouth and knocked her head back, swallowing them dry. She replaced the bottle to its home before grabbing her electronic clipboard and headed to her first appointment, mind still racing.
Moira sat brooding in her office, musing with a sphere of dark energy as she thought about her forced interaction with . She had known that her candid attempt to convince her to join Oasis would be met with hostility. She grinned to herself remembering the terrified look on her former colleagues face. That alone had saved her trip from being utterly worthless. She had not been lying when she complimented Dr. Ziegler's brilliant mind. The woman had exceptional talent in healing technology. If only she didn't have a sense of moral superiority. She had tried to explain to the Talon council that Dr. Ziegler would not willingly accept an invitation, even under the guise of working at Oasis. Only one other council member had agreed with her on the vote to not approach the doctor. Curious…
It was nearly noon when Angela finally had a break. Five appointments, an hour each, back to back. Her stomach was beginning to ache in pain from hunger, but her appetite was barren. Her morning encounter with her ex-colleague had left a bad taste in her mouth. It had been so long since she'd seen Moira, so why was that mad woman resurfacing now? Angela knew better than to think that the woman's offer had been sincere. I need some air, she thought, exiting her office and swiftly walking down the hallway to where the elevator sat.
"I'll be back in a few minutes," she called to Natalie and the other nurse who had been chatting at their station, "I just need to step out." Angela pressed the button on the elevator for the ground floor. If the girls had responded, she didn't notice. Angela stepped onto the lift and pressed the button for the ground floor. An annoying, lyric-less melody played as the elevator descended. In a few moments the elevator had reached the bottom floors, the door opening with a loud ding. Angela stepped out walking briskly across the main lobby and out the front doors.
The cold fall air was a welcome relief to her as it stung her cheeks, tinting them a pink color. The streets had become more alive since her journey to work that morning, the sun rising high in the sky. She began walking down the street lost in her pondering about her sudden encounter with Moira. Angela knew that nothing good could come of it. Crossing paths with Moira was akin to crossing paths with a deadly snake. She walked to a nearby cafe and purchased a large black coffee and a croissant, having completely forgotten about the banana she'd grabbed that morning.
She selected a some-what hidden table at the back of the cafe and slid into the chair. She took a sip of her coffee still unconcerned about the heat on her lips. Angela poked at her croissant, nibbling at it occasionally as she assessed what she should do about Moira. What could she do? It's not like Moira had done anything wrong. Well, anything that she knew of at least. She was concentrating taking another sip of her coffee when a commotion at the register brought her attention.
"Mademoiselle!" someone was pleading with the barista, "Please turn on the news!" Angela watched with slight interest as the barista humored the patron and changed one of the televisions positioned in the corner of the cafe. Her jaw went slack as the image of a giant machinery Omnic was destroying things. The Omnic lifted a truck and flung it at the camera drone that had been displaying the live feed. There was a sickening crunch as the drone hit the pavement. Right before the drone's feed cut out, Angela could have sworn there was a motion of a large, monkey-like figure flying into the frame. There were gasps and whispers amongst the other patrons of the cafe as the panic of an Omnic attack sunk in. Angela felt her stomach tie into knots. Whatever appetite she'd had was now completely squandered.
So, are you with me? Angela heard Winston's words reverberating in her head. She furrowed her brow. Was she? She looked at the error message that was displayed against the television. People were going to get hurt if she did nothing. She knew Moira's arrival at her office this morning couldn't have meant anything good. Angela gripped the cord that held her ring on her neck. Gabriel wouldn't have stood by idly in a crisis. Gottverdammt she hissed underneath her breath. She stood up and walked briskly out of the cafe, ignoring the startled faces of the patrons as she stormed by. Angela whipped out her phone, dialing the number for the hospital and bringing the device to her ear. It rang for a few moments before there was a click.
"Natalie?" Angela said urgently into the phone, "Yes, I've seen the news. Cancel my remaining appointments. I've got something to take care of."
Minutes later Angela was slamming open the door to her meager apartment, not bothering to remove the key from the lock. She dashed to the closet and dropped to her knees, digging through a mountain of dirty clothes on the floor, before she finally found what she was looking for. She slid a solid white case that looked like it might carry a cello. The case had a single red plus on the front of it. Angela quickly flipped the top of the case open, revealing an almost glowing set of bionic wings and a long caduceus.
"Yes Winston," she whispered, pulling the items out, "I'm with you."
