A/N: All reviews are appreciated!

Ch. 8

Present Day

Hanzo Shimada

Hanzo was eager to finally be doing something. After weeks of sitting at the Overwatch base doing nothing it was a relief to have some activity. He was also glad that the rest of the group was beginning to trust him enough to send him on a mission. Though he realized it was simply because the core group was short staffed and there was too much Talon activity in London to send McCree alone. He wasn't thrilled about being left alone with the cowboy, however. Their relationship was still too complicated for that to be simple. He wouldn't allow that to get in his way, though. This was his chance to prove himself to the rest of Overwatch and to his brother.

He and McCree had to get to England by civilian means. It had been made aware that any Overwatch drop ships would be pegged by Talon the moment they entered the area, and they were on a reconnaissance mission. Winston had been worrying that some agent named Reaper was active in the area. Hanzo didn't really know much about the person, but McCree had explained on the plane ride that he was something… unnatural. Though, he hadn't faced him before himself. The agent hadn't been spotted by Overwatch in over a month since they fought off an attack in the Middle East, but Winston had put it as a sighting being "overdue."

"There's no conclusive evidence of this being his handy work. Talon has been present in the area since the death of Mondatta, but it's crucial that you use the upmost caution. Look for signs of his presence. He's hunting Overwatch, so he won't hesitate to disengage from his objective to take on an operative."

McCree didn't seem too worried about the possibility. Though, he admitted he had never fought or seen Reaper for himself. Hanzo wasn't worried either. He was confident enough in his own capabilities.

It was dark when they arrived at the small dingy apartment McCree had said was the "safe house."

"This is it?" Hanzo asked, taking in the studio flat.

There was a messy double bed in the center of the far wall, an old brown couch with a small framed TV, and a tiny kitchen set up with a fridge that groaned like it was on its last legs of functionality. The wall paper was faded and peeling at some points, and the hard wood had been scratched with what looked like a rake.

Hanzo wrinkled his nose in distaste and crossed his arms.

"Unacceptable," he muttered.

He'd been a drifter for years and had never stayed in a place in such worn and grotesque condition.

"What?" McCree asked. "Not all of us can be a yakuza prince." He grinned toothily at his own joke, but Hanzo just grimaced.

"I am no prince."

"Ah, c'mon, Hanzo, I've been to that big ol' palace ya lived in."

"I live there no more. We now share a home. We are equals." To his surprise, McCree didn't respond to that. "What to do about the sleeping situation?" he asked his silent companion. "There is only one bed." He glanced over his shoulder at McCree who was looking at the grimy bed with a mile long stare. He knew what he was thinking. "No," he said before the cowboy could even voice his thoughts. McCree's brown eyes darted to Hanzo's knitted glare. He raised his eyebrows and hands in defense.

"Hey, I wasn't gonna suggest…" he argued. "We ain't gotta debate. I'll take the couch, you can have the bed."

Hanzo blinked at him as the cowboy sat his bag down beside the sofa. He plopped down beside it and propped his boots up on the old wooden coffee table. He leaned back some, crossing his arms behind his head, and allowing the edge of the couch to push his hat in an angle so that the brim was covering his eyes. His shoulders relaxed and he let out a deep sigh.

"Oh yeah, this is nice," he drawled.

Hanzo had to swallow a lump in his throat, unsure as to why it had formed.

"My thanks," he murmured while he sat his bag on the edge of the bed.

"Hm?" McCree hummed half zoned out.

"This is a new safe house correct?" Hanzo asked, hoping McCree hadn't fallen asleep that quickly.

"Yeah… we had several here back… in the day." He snorted, his eyes not visible under his hat. "They were shitty too, honestly…"

"Have you ever stayed in one?"

"Nah, not here. I was here… few years back… towards the end." He huffed, a deep exhale of exhaustion. "'Fore everythin' went to hell." He seemed to shift uncomfortably under the memory. "Place is a hellhole, honestly. Wouldn't a-been my choice in vacation spot, but Reyes insisted and who am I to decline?" He sounded almost nostalgic to Hanzo. He breathed deeply. Hanzo didn't want to press him on the topic further, so he said nothing more. He allowed McCree to fall silent as he looked about the room.

"These sheets are filthy. Do you think there's any more around here?"

"Mm-mm."

"Some help you are," Hanzo mumbled under his breath.

Unable to find any replacement covers Hanzo reluctantly resigned himself to getting some rest on the possibly bug infested bed. McCree had already passed out in what seemed to Hanzo to be an uncomfortable position on the sofa. They were both exhausted from having been going for what was near twenty-four hours.

He peeked at McCree cautiously. There were deep and steady snores emanating from under the hat. Hanzo remembered them so well. When he closed his eyes he almost felt Jesse's chest rising and falling under his head. Hanzo had to shake himself. The cowboy was asleep, and he could strip. He wasn't sure how McCree was comfortable sleeping fully dressed, but he surely wouldn't be. Hanzo kept his eyes glued on him as he removed his clothes slowly as to not make too much noise. He kicked his pants away and pulled the band from his bun. He shook it loose so that it fell against his shoulders. He ran his fingers through his hair, running the strands in-between each and pulling apart tangles. He sat on the bed with his back to McCree. He tried not to focus on the sound of his snores as he cuddled under the surprisingly comfortable covers. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Hanzo awoke first around noon. His arm was numb from his static position. His black hair was tangled and matted, stuck to his red face. He drug his still half naked body out of bed. His body felt groggy and weak. He fumbled for a hair brush out of his satchel pausing to assure McCree was still asleep. He could hear the steady snores still rumbling from his chest.

At some point the cowboy had migrated from his sitting position to lying flat on his stomach with one arm dangling over the side of the sofa. His face was smooshed against a pillow with a force that gave him little fish lips. He must have woken up at some point during the night because his boots and belt had been discarded next to the end table. His hat was sitting on the back of the couch.

Hanzo shivered at the idea of McCree's eyes on him while he was sleeping – vulnerable.

He turned his back to the cowboy, sitting on the bed and sluggishly brushing the tangles from his hair. He hated mornings. As a child he had to rise early for training, but on the off days he slept in as late as father or Genji would allow. On occasion Genji would be met with a snarled warning that allowed him a few extra minutes. As a drifter he had to be on the move early lest he lose daylight. At Overwatch he was finally able to sleep in unless there was an emergency, of course.

As Hanzo wrapped the band around his bun he heard a break in McCree's steady snores. He jumped up and spun around as the cowboy moaned, shifting slightly from where he was sleeping. He was glad that he'd put pants on before he brushed his hair. Brown eyes flickered around the room as if they were trying to take in their location before landing on the staring archer. A light smile spread across his face.

"Mornin' darlin'," he hummed. Hanzo wanted to bark at him to not call him that, but he just huffed instead.

"It's twelve thirty," he said.

"Yeah, mornin'," McCree replied. He sat up straight and rubbed the back of his messy brown hair. He plucked his hat from the edge of the couch and placed it on his head.

"Are you not going to at least brush your hair?" Hanzo asked.

"Nah. It'll just get messed up later anyway."

"Take some pride in your appearance." McCree shrugged while pulling on his boots.

"But being scruffily handsome is my whole thing." Hanzo grunted. "Hey, I'm scruffy and handsome. You're neat and pretty…."

"I'm not pretty." McCree snorted.

"If you say so, pardner."

The cowboy's eyes were glued to the archer. Hanzo could feel them looking his body up and down. His brown irises burned almost. It made him a bit self-conscious. Not conscious that he was seeing him shirtless, but nervous at how much he had changed in the years. Last time McCree had seen him naked he had been young and innocent… to an extent. He had yet to commit the crime of fratricide. Under Jesse's piercing stare Hanzo felt as if he could practically feel Genji's blood covering him. Reflexively, he slapped his hand over his right abdomen. He was covering a scar that his brother had given in their fatal battle. It was the only reminder left on his body. His soul was the one to truly become disfigured.

"Stop staring at me," he snapped using the ire he normally held to cover his discomfort.

He grabbed his shirt from the night before and slipped it over his head. He still felt exposed, but not quite as helpless.

"I need some coffee," he twanged. Hanzo turned from him, sitting on the bed to put his boots on. "And a cigar." He could hear the cowboy stand and his loud boots clunk and jingle as he went out onto the balcony. Hanzo hopped up and hesitantly followed him out.

McCree was leaning against the railing puffing on the cigar while white smoke drifted around in front of him. He was watching some people argue in front of the building across the street. Hanzo waved the smoke away as he stood next to him.

"We need to talk about tonight," he said.

"Ya know I think that guy cheated on that girl and she's mad about it." Yelling emphasized his point.

"How do you know?" Hanzo asked. He shrugged.

"I don't. Can't really hear what they're sayin'. Just got a feelin'." He took a drag of his cigar. Hanzo huffed. He wasn't sure why he was even entertaining this train of conversation.

"We need to talk about tonight," he repeated. "If we want things to go well we must have a plan." McCree turned to face him.

"I'm more of a heat of the moment kind of guy," he hummed staring down at Hanzo's face. Hanzo growled.

"I do not care. I am not going in there blind and letting you get me killed." McCree's expression turned solemn and serious for a moment.

"I ain't gonna let you get killed," he practically vowed.

"I do not need you to take care of me," he grumbled defiantly. McCree shook his head.

"Hanzo, right now all we got is us. We're partners here and we gotta watch each other's back. You can't go runin' off thinkin' you can do this on your own. You have to trust me."

"How can I trust you when you've never given me a reason to?!" Hanzo yelled.

Something about what McCree said had snapped something in him. It was almost like he'd been slapped in the face in some form. After what McCree had done… trust was a hard thing to ask for so soon. He wanted to let him prove himself. However, in that moment the idea seemed as absurd as a talking elephant. The arguing couple from across the street had probably paused to look up at the balcony with the screaming man.

"Hanzo…" Hanzo shook his head, breathing in air and trying to restrain himself.

"No," he said. "Forget it." He sighed. "I just want you taking this seriously."

"I'm as serious as a heart attack," McCree guaranteed, smiling lightheartedly once again. Hanzo rolled his eyes.

"So this is what I was planning…"

It was quiet – overly so. The nearest sound was that of car horns in the muffled far distance. Hanzo was unsure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. They were in the undercity of Kings Row: the area that the omnics had been forced into years ago. Hanzo had never been to England or Kings Row for that matter. He was unsure what it was, but the area made him uncomfortable. Perhaps, it was the contrasting lack of sound taken from an area he had heard nothing but screaming in since his arrival. The shift put him on edge. The mission was risky and the stillness told him something had already gone wrong.

"You're all clear, Han," the steady twang of McCree's voice reverberated in his ear, coming from his earpiece. He rolled his eyes at the name, but didn't argue. It was not the time. "I'll sweep the perimeter. You go on in. Just… yell if ya get caught or somethin'."

"I am not planning on getting caught," Hanzo responded through his mic to the distant cowboy. There was a light chuckle.

"No one ever does." At that the radio fell silent allowing the uncomfortable quiet to overtake him once more. Surprisingly, in that moment he missed the cowboy's relentless talking. Though, idle chatter was compromising. He could only hope that the warehouse was still abandoned by workers.

Hanzo hoisted himself up, notching his metallic boots into the wall as he propelled himself a few feet up to the metal grate. He held onto the ledge, loosening the bolts with a tool that had been left behind for them. He popped the vent from its place and dropped it as gently as he could to the ledge below, trying to minimize his noise. He hopped up, propelling himself forward into the vent.

"I'm in," he hummed into his comm.

"No sign of guards or employees. Still outta commission I think."

"Automated most likely."

"You still got that device they left us?"

"Ready… as soon as I reach a location fit for use."

"Alrighty… don't leave me hangin'." Hanzo didn't reply. Instead, he focused on making his way through the small, claustrophobic, and hot vent. It wasn't the easiest task.

Once he finally reached his destination he kicked the other vent grate out and onto the second story scaffolding below. He leapt out, landing deftly. He crouched, looking around the overlooking ground floor.

"I do not see anyone," he radioed to McCree.

"We're still clear out here too."

"There are cameras. None pointed at my position."

"You ganna use that EMP thing?" Hanzo huffed.

"No," he said sarcastically, "I thought I'd walk out and let myself get caught on camera."

"Well I don't see the point, but go ahead," he replied casually.

"Hmph."

He pulled the arrow that Winston had given him from his quiver and aimed it at the electrical box across the platform. He drew back the string and shot the small implanted arrow into the box. There was pop, a bright flash, and the lights went out. A hum followed, and small dim emergency lights glowed to life.

"I'm at the door," McCree's voice twanged against his eardrum.

Hanzo jumped the railing and sprinted to the back door. He pressed a button next to the metal sliding door. He hoped the emergency power kept the doors live. It slid open, revealing McCree's smiling face.

"Good job, Hanzo. Don't think there's any guards around. Though, there might be some kind of alert with the power failure."

"In that case, we should be swift." McCree closed the door behind him. He winked.

"Always am."

The two split up, casing the location for any clues as to what Talon had gained by seizing the location. Random violence was always a good guess, but there had actually been no casualties – a few injuries, but no death. Reports were shaky, but it had been a rush job. Run in, gun, and run out with… something. If Overwatch didn't know what exactly Talon was up to then there was no way to counter them. There was no hypothesis of their motives… They were terrorists, but there was certainly an end goal.

Hanzo found some evidence of the violence that had occurred. Bullets etched in the metallic walls like scars. He ran his fingers over the broken metal, feeling the sharp roughness against the pads. It made him shiver. Those bullets were most likely meant for a person, and they had been fortunate enough for it to miss. The holes were a clustered alignment of pellets. Someone had really been lucky to avoid the buckshot.

"Hanzo!" McCree yelled from another room. He didn't hesitate. The sheer urgency in the cowboy's voice commanded his sprint through the hollow warehouse. The sound of his metal shoes clinking against the metal floor echoed through the quiet. He burst through the door. His skin prickled with a rise of anxiety.

"Jesse?!" he gasped almost desperately. McCree was standing over a computer console. His head tilted down at the bright screen that glowed in the darkness of the small room. When he said nothing Hanzo insisted, "What is it?" His body relaxed, breathing returning to normal as he realized there was no actual danger and that McCree wasn't in it.

"Look," he mumbled - his words distant.

"What?!" Hanzo demanded, frustrated at the cowboy for causing him a temporary and unwelcome panic. McCree motioned to the glowing screen.

"No casualties they said."

"Yes? So?" He finally looked at the screen, allowing the words to solidify McCree's stunned composure.

"Omnics… all the deaths… were omnic," he said anyway. "They weren't reported cause the English government don't care. That's… awful…" Hanzo looked at him.

"You care?" he asked.

"'Course I care. Omnics did all the shit the humans didn't care to and in return they get not a thing. They get murdered and no one gives a shit." He shook his head. "Question is why? What was Talon after?"

"It doesn't say?"

"Naw. Dumbasses didn't lock their computer… I guess to give access to the cops. This is some kind of… employee roster? It looks like it was uploaded from a different location. I'm no computer expert." Hanzo motioned to a line at the bottom of the roster.

"It mentions stolen goods."

"Yeah… They were after somethin' then? Not just random violence…"

"So it seems." Hanzo crossed his arms reserving himself to the idea that this infiltration had been pointless. "Can we find out what?"

"I dunno… I don't wanna mess with this thing too much…" McCree pressed a button causing the screen to scroll to another message. He scratched his beard, his dark eyes glancing over the page. He made a grunting noise, moving onto the next one. He flicked from one page to the next making noises of disapproval. "Woah there! Wait, wait." Hanzo snapped to attention. McCree looked at the page skeptically. "This is a list of everythin' stolen… Jackpot." Hanzo chuckled lightly.

"Can you make sense of it?" he asked, reading nothing but words he couldn't quite match to items.

"Yeah." He paused. "Well… not really. They're… components or somethin'? I don't quite understand it… all seems… random… Hm… I wish Winston could take a look at this. Damn. Can't contact him er Talon might catch our signal."

"Talon's monitors should not pick up activity from a console already established in the area, would they?" Hanzo suggested. McCree tapped his chin.

"No… no I don't think so. I could send him a copy."

"Hurry. I will keep watch."

Hanzo retreated from the administrator's office, returning to the main floor of the warehouse. The quiet was still deafening. They needed to hurry. He had a bad feeling and was on edge. Silence normally did not bother Hanzo, but this kind was different. It was malicious… unnatural in a way. He'd never been to that place before, but he felt in his soul that it was meant to be loud and lively. It felt as if he was in an industrial graveyard. On the upside it was unlikely anyone would be able to sneak up on him.

While Hanzo waited for his partner to finish up he scaled back to the second floor scaffolding, retrieving his arrow from the electrical box. He moved around the perimeter checking one last time for any unwanted inhabitants. Ever careful. The only noise that filled the air was his metal boots against the metal grates. In the distance he could hear McCree mumbling to himself – a comforting twang that broke the sense of his isolation. He focused on it allowing it to keep him company. It was familiar and comforting… He could almost remember it singing him to sleep. He hated it, but loved it at the same time. He could still remember the words.

Twap.

The very slight light sound of paper plopping against metal caused Hanzo to freeze. His muscles locked in a tight statuesque position while his eyes slid back and forth as he took in the scenery. Nothing in his immediate view had changed. His ears perked but he heard nothing more. McCree was still muttering in the distance. It wasn't him. It was too close… near the door. He didn't breathe… just listened like a hawk waiting for its prey to make a mistake. He wondered if the said prey was feeling the same way. He would not make the mistake of revealing himself.

Minutes went by. Hanzo's eyes had fallen on the door the administrator's office. McCree was still inside and he would not allow his partner to be snuck up on. The oblivious cowboy was being much more obvious than the silent archer. He would be the target if the predator decided to strike. Yet there was only silence.

Until suddenly the very slightest swish and then what seemed to be a prickle of electricity.

Hanzo reacted, pulling his bow from off his torso and launching himself over the railing. He sprung up from a crouched position, brandishing a drawn arrow towards in the direction of the noise as he darted towards it. He rounded a pallet coming face to face with only the front door. No one was there. However, lying on the cold metal floor was a manila envelope with a big red "Classified" stamp on it. That had not been there when he'd let McCree inside, obviously. Whoever the intruder had been had left it behind meaning for the two to find it.

Still wary that an intruder had slipped past him, Hanzo doubled back to the office. He shut the door behind him thinking it was a fortified position to defend from if an intruder decided to attack. He clutched the folder in his hands while approaching an agitated and grumbling McCree. He paused in his inane clicking to glance at the archer. McCree had mentioned before that he didn't want to mess with it too much, but the idea had seemed to escape him the more determined he became at figuring it out.

"Back so soon?" he hummed. His eyes flicked to the envelope. "What's that?"

"I do not know. Though, it was left for us to find." McCree squinted, his brow crinkling in confusion.

"Huh?"

"We were… or are not alone. Someone, unseen to me, left this. We were meant to find it." McCree restrained himself from his goal and moved away from the computer.

"What's in it?"

"I do not know… I have not opened it." McCree glanced down. He focused on it.

"Someone just waltzed in and plopped down a 'classified' file and you didn't notice em? Weren't you keepin' watch?" Hanzo glared at him, anger bubbling at the accusation.

"I was! Whoever it was infiltrated and evacuated before I had a chance to spot them!" The cowboy seemed to perk at the idea. The gears turning in his head were visible. "I heard them, but they were gone by the time I reached the location. They could still be here. I believe it wise that we hurry." McCree didn't answer. Instead, he snatched the file from Hanzo's hand. "Hey!" he growled. McCree flipped it open and squinted at the inky black words printed on a page. Hanzo grumbled in Japanese, leaning close to the cowboy so that he could read what was left for them as well.

The top of the page read:

To: J. Morrison

From: G. Reyes

Subject: Hanamura: Failed Reconnaissance

Status: Not Sent

McCree hardened next to him. His breathing quickened and his fingers grasped the paper a little too hard causing the folder to crinkle. He turned his head away, taking a breath to try and steady himself.

"What is it?" Hanzo asked. He hung his head.

"This… this is… Fuck." He shoved the folder back into Hanzo's hands and paced across the room. He removed his hat from his head and ran gloved fingers through his hair. Hanzo looked at the file and read the top lines over again.

The first paragraph read: This report describes the events that led to the failure of the mission Hanamura: Reconnaissance. Actions taken by my team revealed our true intentions to one prominent member of the Shimada clan and therefor most likely the whole yakuza itself. We were forced to leave Japan due to the danger that came with our intentions known. We may have revealed all of Overwatch.

"McCree," Hanzo snapped. "This is talking about..."

"Yeah…"

"About you… and I?"

"Yeah…"

Hanzo thumbed through the pages, looking over the words quickly. He kept seeing his name and McCree's and the word romance.

Youthful foolishness. That's all it was. He had failed… betrayed his family and his duties and for what? Someone who lied to him. Someone who hurt him.

Hanzo shook himself – trying to remove the feelings that simmered within him. He did not want to dwell on something he had decided meant nothing. Yet… if it meant nothing then why did he think on it at all? It was clear that McCree had never stopped caring. He was always finding the need to convince himself that he did.

Flipping to the final page of the lengthy report revealed a hand added note in purple ink. It was in a language he didn't recognize immediately and didn't understand. There was a small skull doodled in the right hand corner.

"McCree," he mumbled catching the cowboy's attention. "There's something else."

At the idea of information McCree pulled himself out of his melancholy and moved back over to Hanzo. He took the folder and looked the notes over.

"It's Spanish," he twanged.

"You can read it?" Hanzo asked, recalling hearing McCree use Spanish words casually before.

"Yeah…" His eyes darted across the page as he took it all in. He seemed to tense even more by what he read.

"What does it say?" McCree sighed.

"'My friend, I see you've found your old… boyfriend." He huffed. "I always liked happy endings to tragic love stories. Anyway, since you're in town I thought you'd like this… the file I was talking about. I see why you like him so much… he's cute. I also figured this was a good chance to repay my debt to you… I don't like owing people, you know. I know what you're looking for, and I can assist. Just meet me here…' uh there's an address 'Friday 11 pm sharp. See you, Sombra.' Oh, 'P.s. you triggered an alert messing with that computer. I shut it off. You're welcome.'" McCree sighed. "Well, shit…"

"Who is Sombra?"

"A… girl I knew." Hanzo hated the vagueness.

"That is not very descriptive. Who is she? How did she get in here and how did she get this file?" McCree fidgeted. He closed the folder and looked at the ground.

"I met her in Mexico… at a bar. We had some… fun. Then it turned out she was a Talon agent plannin' a cyber-attack. By the time I caught on it'd already started. I manage to fight 'er off, but… I couldn't pull the trigger… I let her go and now she thinks she owes me one - while simultaneously hauntin' me." He looked almost pained by the memory. "I know now nothing is coincidence with Sombra. She seeked me out in that bar, softened me up, and now I can't do my damn job. I don't know how she found that file, but it's the mission report Reyes wrote up after we left Hanamura. That's how she knew bout you." McCree looked off retrospectively. "Shit… I never told no one about me and Sombra before…" Hanzo sighed.

"And now things are becoming more difficult," he announced. He sympathized with him. He didn't like seeing McCree uncomfortable. If it was meant to be a secret then he wouldn't tell. "What is this she mentioned? 'I know what you are looking for.' What are we looking for?" McCree shrugged.

"I dunno. What was stolen here? Nah, that don't make sense. We don't want it - we just want to know what it was?"

"Then that is the answer. We want knowledge and she is willing to provide." McCree grinned.

"Hanzo, you're a genius! That's most certainly somethin' she could give us too. She might not be able to smuggle out a bunch of components, but she certainly knows what's goin' on. Better than most." He sighed, his joy melting away as he fell back into reserved thoughtfulness. "There's a problem though…"

"Other than the obvious?" Hanzo questioned. McCree nodded.

"Not often do you find Sombra without findin' Reaper… From what it seems she follows his lead… for the most part. I've seen exceptions… like in Mexico, but it's rare. N' after seein' what we've seen here… I doubt he's anywhere else."

"Then this could be a trap… and a deadly one." McCree nodded.

"Yep…" he sighed. "But there ain't anything else we can do. We got nothin'… This place is like hell… we can't just leave Talon to control it. We have to find some answers and we have to take care of the problem. I think we should go anyway… just gotta be careful."

"We will be going in blind." McCree looked at Hanzo – worry clear on his face.

"I ain't gonna let anything happen to you," he swore. Hanzo looked off, sighing.

"And I will not allow you to be harmed," he promised, sincerely. McCree grinned. "We will be careful."

"Takin' risks, Han, I like it!" He rolled his eyes, shoving past McCree and heading for the door.

"Do not push it."

A/N: Boy, oh, boy this chapter was a while in the making, but I have a simple explanation: Mass Effect: Andromeda. 'Nuff said. Though, I'm glad the game bought enough time for the Uprising comic and game mode came out because it certainly influenced this chapter. Another thing the comic did is inspire me to... start another past plot line revolving around Genji, Mercy, and McCree during the time Genji was first brought into Overwatch and him trying to adapt to the organization, coping with what he is and what happened, as well as evolving his relationships with characters (mostly that one). I kinda want to do an angry Blackwatch Genji. Sorry, if this is stuffing the story full with bullshit lol. It will be a smaller and less occurring plot, however. It's something I'm excited to do. Also in light on the new comic I will also be changing chapter one... AGAIN... and this time it may be quite a lot of changes. It'll pretty much be a whole rewrite to reflect Reyes's actual attitude at that time. I've always seen him as chill, but I never believed he and Morrison were so good towards the end. So there will need to be a few changes not to Reyes, but to how Morrison reacts to him. Be on the look out for that if you're a long time reader. Oh boy. Ganna be fun. Thanks blizzard for turning my world upside down.