Blinking against the sudden light, Emily raised a hand to shield her eyes as the door to her cell swung open.

"Up you get, cherie. Wouldn't want to keep your girlfriend waiting."

Without waiting for a reply the woman the others called Widowmaker hauled Emily to her feet one-handed, giving her a little shove that sent her stumbling into a cinderblock wall. She certainly sounded human, but up close she seemed more like some kind of alien. When a blue hand brushed against Emily, the young woman couldn't help but shudder at the cold, and when she inhaled the air seemed heavy with a cloying perfume. A guard entered behind Widowmaker, and tossed an old blanket around Emily's shoulders, before dragging her from the cell and out into the freezing desert air. Emily had no idea what time it was, but judging by the faint pale glow on the horizon dawn was not far away.

There was renewed activity around the white pod at the centre of the pit. A second smaller pod had been lowered by a crane and attached to the top, and the men in red uniforms were disassembling parts of the scaffolding and removing many of the cables from the finished object. The leader of the operation, the man cloaked in black the others had called Reaper, was standing alongside the Mexican woman she had seen when they arrived. Both were intently examining a bank of computer monitors, tucked away in a makeshift bunker made of plywood and sandbags that had been dug into the side of the pit. Ducking her head, Widowmaker entered the small space, dragging Emily behind her by the collar of her shirt.

"Where is she? Where is Lena?"

The woman in purple seized Emily's hand, and dropped a tiny silver earpiece into it. "Right here."

"Lena? Can you hear me? Are you alright, what's going on?"

There was a spluttering sound at the other end of the link, then a familiar voice cut through the static.

"Emily! Ems, is that you, love? Are you alright?"

Emily clapped her hand over the earpiece as the wind picked up. She tried to step back from the group, but Widowmaker kept a firm grip on her shoulder.

"I'm a bit shaken, but I'm fine. Where are you? What's going on?"

There was a pause, and when Lena spoke again, Emily could tell she was holding back tears.

"I'm…I'm trapped, love. They've locked me in this thing." There was another burst of static, interspersed with what sounded like a sob. "Not again…I can't do it again!"

"Lena! Talk to me!"

"Slipstream! A perfect replica…it's going to start up, and I'll be trapped, trapped forever…again!"

As Lena started to sob again, Emily's hands were pulled behind her back as the woman in purple walked over to them. Emily snarled and attempted to wrench herself free as her girlfriend's anguish echoed through her mind.

"You…you sick freaks. Let her out of that thing!"

The Mexican woman put a finger to her ear. When she spoke, Emily could also hear her in the earpiece. "Enough, Lena. I thought you said you were trained to resist stress like this. Get a grip!"

"…you, Sombra! Let me out of here, or I'll…"

Sombra chuckled. "Remember, the longer this part takes, the longer we'll have to keep you locked up in there."

The figure in black abruptly clapped a hand on Sombra's shoulder. "Don't forget to tell her what will happen to her girlfriend should she decide to be difficult with us."

Sombra turned away from the pod, and as she did, Emily thought she saw a brief flash of annoyance pass across her face. "Don't worry, Gabe. I gave her the little talk back in the tent."

Emily turned her gaze towards the pod, trying to see if there was a window or hatch that would let her catch a glimpse of Lena. "What even is this thing? What do you people want?"

Widowmaker sneered, and yanked roughly on Emily's collar, but Sombra flashed her a smile and pushed the assassin aside. "There's no need for that, arana. It's a good question. What you're looking at here, is a time machine."

Emily gave a humourless laugh. "A what?"

"It's based on a machine Overwatch built a decade or so ago…for containing a certain agent who had a habit of disappearing. While Chief Scientist Winston worked on the chronal accelerator, the chamber was developed as a temporary measure. It generated a strong field, designed to pin the occupant down to a certain point in the timestream. Your lovely girlfriend is living proof that it worked, after all. But after the accelerator was finished…the tech went the way of the rest of Overwatch. That was, of course, until I happened across a file in the Gibraltar database. It looks like Winston toyed with the idea of combining the tech found in both machines at some point, to try to make a time machine. He never built one, but the idea seemed sound enough. Pair a capsule that can protect the people inside from from the effects of chronal disassociation with a device that allows someone to move through time…genius!"

Sombra waved a hand, and complicated blueprints for the pod scrolled past on a holographic window. "Not being much of a physicist myself, I contracted a few friends who were a little more experienced in this stuff to get it built." She gestured towards the pod. "All in all, I think it turned out pretty well. At least, we won't know for sure until we start her up. As for where, and when, this machine will be heading…"

"Is our pilot familiar with the launch procedure?" barked Reaper, clearly growing impatient with Sombra's spiel.

"Of course, of course. I designed it based on the Slipstream's control scheme, so it should all be familiar to her. I will warn you though, Lena; there's a sweet spot. Too early, and the energy banks won't discharge enough to get you moving. Too late…" Sombra waved her gloved hands in an imitation of an explosion. "…and there won't be much of a future for you to look forward to."

Lena managed a sarcastic laugh. "Knowing who my passengers will be, I'm tempted."

"I'm sure you are. Which is why your girlfriend will be accompanying us."

Sombra paused, her hands hovering over the controls. "…What did you say, Gabe?"

Reaper remained impassive. "You will remain here to oversee the launch. The capsule will contain myself, Widowmaker, our pilot, and the hostage."

"Joder!" The cables that ran down the back of Sombra's coat flashed furiously as the woman rounded on Reaper. "We had a deal, Gabriel! I put all this work in for you, and you think you can just push me aside when it's done?"

"You'll still receive your share of any material we recover. You're forgetting that we always needed someone to manage the launch site. This civilian is vital for ensuring our ticket there and back cooperates with us."

For a moment, Sombra looked as though she would strike her superior with her raised hand. The threat was all the excuse Widowmaker seemed to need, as she stepped past Emily and shrugged her rifle from her shoulders. Sombra gave an exasperated sigh and turned away, muttering to herself in Spanish. Her gaze met Emily's, and she rolled her eyes.

"Sombra. Begin the sequence immediately. We have no time for negotiations."

The remark drew a sarcastic chuckle from Sombra as she returned to her computers. "Oh, believe me, Gabriel. I'm about to give you all the time in the world."