Soldier 76 wondered what he should think of the information he had just heard. Reaper, that dark figure with the twin shotguns, had been talking to Junkrat and Road-Hog, two equally untrustworthy people. Not just people, but strangers. Strangers he did not like, nor want to spend any more time with than necessary.

But it was not his choice. Widowmaker was, technically, his superior. She may have had a shadowy past, but she had been part of the team that took down Talon, and the official message from the Government was that this had been a good move. Overwatch, as far as he understood, had been a bad organisation.

Had they really? It was hard to tell. So much of history was now wrapped up in propaganda and rhetoric that suited a new message. History had been rewritten. Still, it was beside the point. The people who gave him orders – or had given him orders, before the standing Government was wiped out – had made it quite clear that Special Agent Lacroix was to be his boss.

Then Special Agent Lacroix had died. That had been a confusing time. Soldier 76 had only been voted as the new leader because he was the oldest and, in his own personal opinion, that was not a good reason. He'd fought many battles, and been lucky to survive, but that's all it was. Luck. He'd even fought alongside Overwatch, decades ago, when the clone program was so young there were only one hundred of them. This was before, of course, Overwatch was called "the enemy".

They hadn't seemed like the enemy.

He remembered the good old days, fighting alongside the heroes – Reinhardt, a boisterous German tall as a small building; Winston, a small man with a mind for engineering and biology, a warm heart; Ana, beautiful and deadly, a sniper with one watchful eye on her allies and another on her enemies. In his mind's eye, she was there, smiling at him…

He shook the memories away. Those days were long gone. Overwatch had been evil, his superiors had told him that many times. Widowmaker was in charge now. He looked down at the controls of the Mantis. He hadn't even been concentrating. They would be coming up to England soon. He should talk to Widowmaker before they landed. He had a duty to tell her what he knew.

He checked the monitors – they were everywhere, lining the walls of the cockpit, showing a dozen different things. Some showed the status of the ship, others the rooms. He knew where everyone was. Hanzo, the Japanese soldier, was the only one that had not moved. He was still tied up at the back of the Mantis, a prisoner of war. What would they do with him? 76 was not sure. It was not his place to make decisions. He spotted Widowmaker in one of the screens and stood.

As he was leaving the cockpit McCree was standing by the door, as if waiting. The cowboy was chewing on something, and resting a prosthetic hand on the wall.

'Howdy. So you're the clone.'

'And you're the Lone Ranger?'

McCree smiled. 'We must be the only two Americans here, unless I'm mistaken. Road Hog and Junkrat are both Australian – God knows how they got to the US of A. Tracer's English.'

'Reaper and Mercy?'

'They're angels, if you ask 'em.'

Soldier 76 frowned at this. He did not think he believed in angels although, he had to admit, he had seen some strange things since joining this misfit crowd.

'And Widowmaker is French,' Soldier 76 completed the tally.

'Don't forget the Japanese soldier.'

'How could I?' Soldier glanced over to where the warrior was tied up. Even subdued as he was it was clear that Hanzo was an impressive fighter. The tattoos on his arms bulged with muscle, his wrists tied behind his back.

'So,' McCree continued, 'I feel as though we should stick together. You and I, brothers in Red Blue and White, ain't that so?'

Soldier 76 scowled. 'Patriots, are we?'

'Sure we are. I bet you're a big fan of those old fashioned cowboy movies, aren't you?'

'I thought I was. Until I met you.'

McCree's grin grew wider. 'Suit yourself, old man. Suit yourself.'

Soldier 76 escaped the confrontation and found Tracer clutching her knees in the main cargo bay of the Mantis. She did not look happy, but he wasn't sure why. There was still plenty of time to talk to Widowmaker before they landed so he took a moment to sit next to the young girl. He might not particularly like McCree, but Tracer was a different story. She seemed genuine, and full of hope. He felt a fatherly need to protect that. And besides, she was part of the crew. Crew morale was important. His news could wait a little longer.

'What's wrong?' he asked.

Tracer looked up, bright eyes sparkling beneath the locks of her short brown hair.

'Everything.'

'Can you narrow it down for me?' It was only now, speaking to the girl, that he truly felt as old as he was. The gravel in his voice made him sound like… well, like a grandparent. A relic of a more heroic time.

'Well, two things specifically.' Tracer took a deep sigh, and wiped a tear from her face. 'We're going back to England. I swore I'd never go back there. That place is completely overrun by mercenaries and criminals, not to mention Omnics and the risen dead. I don't like the sound of Widowmaker's plan to enter King's Row. I saw that place, once, before I left London. It's a shit hole. An entire suburb barricaded into a prison cell. If this person – Sombra – is there, we'll have to fight her way to her. I'm not sure it's worth it.'

Soldier 76 nodded. Thought about putting a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder, then decided against it.

'But,' Tracer continued, 'I'm not sure we have a choice either. Because my second problem is that I keep phasing in and out of time. If we can't find someone to fix that, like Widowmaker's supposed friend Winston can, who knows what might happen? I might phase out and never return…'

The poor thing looked terrified. Soldier 76 didn't know what to say. He made something up.

'Everything will be fine.'

She glared at him. 'What makes you say that?'

'I have hope.'

'You don't look like a man full of hope.'

In truth, he wasn't. He was a man full of doubt. Doubt that he'd made the right choices when he was young; doubt that he was in the right place; doubt that his existence meant anything at all, other than yet another Government project that had not gone quite right; doubt that Widowmaker was someone worth following with such allegiance. And yet, he was also a man full of hope. Because if someone like Tracer could exist – someone so pure, and determined – then maybe, just maybe, this apocalyptic wasteland of a world could pull itself back up from the brink. Maybe, just maybe, they could make a world worth fighting for.

He sighed. 'Looks can be deceiving. Now come on, get ready. We'll be at King's Row soon. We'll need every hand we can get.'

He stood, left the girl where she was. He had nothing left to say – at least nothing encouraging. She would need to beat this on her own. Beat what? Despair? Sadness? Fear? Whatever it was, it was her own private battle. He had his own to fight.

He found Widowmaker exactly where he'd seen her on the cockpit screen – tending to her rifle in one of the cabins. He sat down opposite and neither said anything for a few minutes as the Special Agent concentrated.

She unnerved him. He knew almost nothing about her, other than that she had been accepted into the military in a commanding position shortly before the military was overrun. She was deadly, that had been proven many times. But not only that, her blue skin – an uncomfortable remnant from her time in death – looked so unnatural Soldier 76 didn't know whether to avoid eye contact entirely or stare. He opted for staring.

'See something you like?'

Soldier 76 blinked, off guard. 'Sorry?'

'You've got an eye on me, oui?'

Soldier 76 nodded. 'You're the commanding officer.'

'Ah, so you were just waiting for orders?' She nodded knowingly. 'Maybe I'll give you some. Who knows?'

He wondered if she was flirting. He was too old for flirting. He'd been quite good at it, but that was decades ago – a lifetime ago. Clones were not made to live as long as he had. He was the last of the first one hundred. He might now be the last of all of them. But that was all beside the point. His training had never covered flirting. That was something he'd learnt all on his own. Well, with just a little help from a certain member of Overwatch with a keen eye.

'I don't follow.' Soldier 76 replied diplomatically.

Widowmaker smiled. It had not been flirting, he decided. Widowmaker had a fine body, that was true, lithe and strong. She was beautiful and alluring, in an intelligent and dangerous way. But she was no more interested in him that he was in her. It had been a trap, a test. She wanted to know what power she held over him. He wondered if he had passed, or failed. Would she trust him more, knowing that he followed her orders only out of duty, or less? The personal connection between them was minimal. They might have come from the same team, but they did not feel like allies now, trapped as they were by so many strangers on such a dangerous journey.

'Never mind, 76. I was just thinking aloud.' She put her rifle down, cleaned and ready for action, and stood. 'I assume you have an update for me? There must be a reason for you to leave the cockpit.'

'Yes ma'am.'

'Well, before you get to all that, let me just tell you one thing. This is an order, you understand, oui? Not something to hear and forget.'

He nodded again. She continued.

'These people we are travelling with? They are not to be trusted. None of them. They know things about the end of the world that we do not. Especially the Shimada boy, our prisoner. It's very important we keep him separate from the rest. But Mercy, and Reaper… they're just as bad. Claiming to be angels. I don't know what their deal is, or how they brought me back to life, but I don't trust them.'

Soldier 76 said nothing. He did not trust these strangers either. Nor did he like Mercy and Reaper's apparent story. But when he heard his own fears spoken aloud by Widowmaker, they sounded paranoid, and angry. He did not like to find that they agreed.

'Even the girl, Hana. She could be a spy. She could free Hanzo at any minute. And the two Australians? Criminals, clearly. They're as likely to steal our tech as they are to kill us in our sleep.'

'What do you want me to do?'

'Just wait for my orders. There will come a time, when we reach King's Row, that we will turn on them. Sombra is an old friend. If she's still there, which I'm sure she is, she'll be able to help us draw them into a trap. And then we can interrogate the whole lot of them, one by one.'

Soldier 76 thought about the group they were travelling with, and all the secrets they carried. He was not sure which side he was on anymore. But Widowmaker was his superior, wasn't she?

'Do you understand, 76? It will seem like we are betraying these men and women, but it's more than that. We need to find out what they know, for the good of the future of humanity. And I need your help to do it.'

Soldier 76 gulped, nodded weakly, and even allowed something like a salute. That seemed to be enough for Widowmaker. She smiled a hungry smile, blue lips turned upwards. It was not happy. He had never felt more like a fly trapped in a spider's web than he did at that moment.

'Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?' She asked.

He thought about all he had overheard Reaper, Junkrat, and Road Hog saying, about souls and battles and an army of the undead.

'Nothing.' He said, because he did not trust Widowmaker. 'Except… we are almost at London. You should prepare for landing.'

She laughed. 'Ok, 76, I'll prepare. Go wake the others. I can't wait to meet Sombra again. This is going to be magnifique.'