"Lena, I think your friend is clinically insane."

"Yeah, I don't blame you."

'Archer, what the actual fuck.'

"Oh, don't mind me. I need to have fun somehow."

'Were you just screwing with us then?! How much of that was just you making shit up?!'

"If you'll believe me? None of it." There was a seriousness that fought against the laughter she heard just earlier, "It's funny when I say it out loud - it's just too ridiculous for it to be anything else, right? - Except, I experienced all of it personally. I've seen the Greek gods in all their glory, and I was party to their deaths."

Lena stilled as she listened to Archer. The Spirit spoke as if he was reminiscing, not too far off from what she could imagine an old war veteran would do.

Even if she couldn't imagine just how he did it. If what Archer said was any way accurate, all of this would've happened thousands of years ago, which would mean that Archer had been around for at least that long.

Then again, time travel was always an option. But that now begged the question of why he did so in the first place. Better yet, how did he manage to kill the Greek gods?

"I said I was party to their deaths, not that I was solely responsible. Even that would be too much for me."

'Noted.'

"I mean, surely that entire bit was just some diatribe against Overwatch. I refuse to believe that 'space gods' were the source of Ramattra's abilities." Angela was talking, not knowing the internal conversation that Lena was having.

Lena could see where she was coming from. The nanomachines that Ramattra used were similar to the ones she had made, if only superficially. It had taken her years of research, help from more than one scientific institution, and countless hours of who knows what else.

Then in comes Archer saying that it was all for moot, since ancient aliens had done it millenia ago. It was a spit in the face of her own work. If Lena were in the same situation, she would've likely felt the same.

"I'm flattered that you think I would bother lying to you people." Archer voiced out sarcastically as wisps of light filled the transport. Everyone leapt into action, grabbing whatever weapon they had and pointing it at the man that had just appeared.

Even Lena, knowing how Archer could do that, was not exempt.

The relatively small area was tense for a moment, as three guns and a small blade were trained on Archer. For his part, the Spirit looked thoroughly unimpressed.

"What did you just do?" Morrison growled out. His current form looked more than slightly uncomfortable, having had to squeeze the pulse rifle he had into a firing position.

"I'm a ghost." The white-haired man dryly spoke, "I did ghost things. You know, invisibility, walking through walls? Have you never heard of ghosts before?"

Despite the guns pointed at him, Archer looked nonchalant. With good reason, Lena supposed. He had gone up against Ramattra, who had shrugged off bullets like they were nothing. He had used swords the size of which would put Reinhardt to shame.

It dawned on her right there and then that they may as well be pointing toys at him for all he cared.

Morrison must've come to the same conclusion, as he clicked his tongue and lowered his rifle. He pressed on the side of his visor, "Stand down."

"Hmm. Only twelve snipers? Ah, wait, thirteen and fourteen were plainclothes agents, I see them now."

Morrison's gun was back in his hands, pointed almost directly in between Archer's eyes. At the same time, he clicked his visor, which visibly lit up with red. The commander's finger was already on the trigger.

Had it been anyone else, this would've probably been the wake up call to stop.

The red-clad man rolled his eyes instead.

"I call myself Archer. What, did you expect me to not live up to that name?"

"Oooookay, I think that's enough." Lena held out her arms in a placating manner, her mouth set in a frown. Normally, this is where she would have spoken to Archer through their link. Right now, she didn't think that would suffice, "Let's all calm down before we do anything we regret."

She threw a glare at Archer. The cadet didn't need to say anything to him, the intent behind her eyes was more than enough. Or, she hoped so, at least.

Thankfully, the Spirit acquiesced with a small, almost imperceptible nod.

"Commander Morrison?"

The man hadn't put down the rifle again. He clearly didn't trust Archer, not that the man did anything to help with that. It took a moment and an eye roll from Archer before the commander relaxed. Not fully, from what Lena could tell, since he hadn't bothered to turn off the heads-up display of his visor.

"If it'll make you feel better, I'm willing to discuss my abilities in detail later."

"It doesn't."

Archer shrugged, "Can't say I didn't try. Now, didn't you want some proof?"

It took another half hour for them to get out of the transport. It was less to do with the tension within the vehicle, and more of they couldn't find a suitably isolated location. Along the way, Lena saw the reconstruction efforts, workers moving back and forth, repairing buildings that were damaged during the attack.

She couldn't help but notice that there were barely any Omnics in the streets.

Humans were plentiful, milling around their day. Where she would normally see at least a few dozen Omnics, she could probably count the number she saw in those thirty minutes with just one hand and still have fingers left.

It was a stark reminder that, for all that Mondatta and the others did to normalize human and Omnic relations, that it had all come crashing down through the orders of one figure.

She could only hope that she'd be able to help more in the future, after whatever it was that Archer wanted was said and done.

That being said.

"Archer, where are we even going?" She called out in front of her. She, alongside everyone else, including Reyes, Reinhardt and Winston, were following the red-clad man as they wound through relatively sparse streets.

Relatively. They'd already had to shoo away a couple of curious civilians.

"You'll see. We should be close by now."

"What do you mean by 'should'?"

"I haven't been to this entrance in a while, and the architecture around here is different enough that I'm not entirely sure where it is."

"...I'm pretty sure this part of London's been protected from renovation for like, thirty years now."

"Like I said, it's been a while."

The alleys that they passed through were extremely narrow, to the point where Reinhardt and Winston needed to go around some of them. The ground was paved with concrete from the early 2020's. The buildings were older than most of their entire party, at this point.

And yet, despite that, as Archer spoke of not being sure of anything, he had not looked up. He had waded through alley after alley without so much a second glance.

Soon enough, they stopped.

Lena looked around, trying to find what it was they stopped for. Nothing. It looked the exact same as every other alley they had been in. The others were doing the same, all of them thoroughly confused.

She turned to Archer, ready to ask just what they were doing here, when the man shushed her.

Then, he pulled.

Something in her head broke as she watched Archer grab air itself. Reality seemed to fold like a curtain, bending to the Spirit's fingers. Space warped and bended as Archer continued to pull. Nausea. Just looking at what he was doing was enough to make her stomach churn.

The world wasn't supposed to bend like that. Space was turning, twisting. The world parted and closed, a new avenue opening.

And just like that, he stopped. In front of them, she could see as if the very world had split, the alley warping around an entryway that had decidedly not been there before.

Lena puked.

Beside her, she could hear Angela do the same, with Winston not too far behind.

"A-Archer, what-"

"Apologies, I didn't think you would react that badly to it." Unlike the other times that Archer would apologize, this one sounded genuine, "It should pass in a while, so we'll wait for a bit. That said, I'm surprised you three didn't react."

Lena peeked her head up as she saw Archer's stare directed at Morrison, Reinhardt and Reyes. Genji was with Angela, fist to his mouth as if sick, only to not need to puke due to his cybernetics, 'Lucky bastard.'

Morrison stepped forward with a measured gaze on the entryway, "...We've seen something like this before, I think." He didn't say anything more, casting a glance back at the other two veterans. Reyes gave a nod back.

Lena could feel the surprise coming through the link, "Oh? Where would you have seen this? This is an Enforcer-grade Bounded Field, I don't think you'd be finding these out in the wild, so to speak."

"That's classified information."

"Something during the Crisis then?" The white-haired man continued with a smirk, "That would be the only commonality among your missions, wouldn't it? You three haven't worked together since then, after all."

He turned without waiting for a response, his eyes locking onto Lena's, "Are you good to go now?"

"I, I think so. Angela, Winston?"

"Good here as well, I believe." Angela was still propping herself on Genji.

"I can't believe I'm happy I missed breakfast…" Winston was still groaning to himself, but was now standing somewhat normally.

"Good. Then we move on. We still have a bit more to go."

"Alright, care to explain what that was?"

"I suppose we do have a bit of time to kill." Archer hummed.

They had gone through the entryway, which had closed behind them, right into a long, nondescript hallway. It was long, and they had to rely on what lights they had brought to see where they were going.

She didn't bother asking where they were going. Archer was clearly not going to answer that one, even through the link. It felt like he wanted this more of a surprise than anything.

"That, as I said earlier, was a Bounded Field. Bounded Fields are, in the simplest explanation, spells that affect a certain area. This specific one was used to block the entrance from anyone unauthorized."

"And that's why we reacted that way? We're unauthorized?" Lena interrupted Angela before she could interject against the whole 'spell' portion.

"Hmph." The smirk on his face told her that he knew what she did, "No, that was just a natural, first-time reaction that humans have. You're seeing space-time warp like that, it's not normally a sight that human eyes were meant to handle, much less your brains."

"Then-" Why didn't the commander and the others react the same way?

"Classified, they say."

They continued to walk. The tension hadn't settled down, if anything, it had gotten worse the further they walked. Lena had decided to make small talk with Archer to at least lighten the mood. Thankfully, Commander Morrison didn't stop her. If he did, then she didn't think she would be able to take the mortification.

Archer complied with her with this, replying to anything she spoke of with the same inflection he usually did. And by that she meant that he was sometimes truthful, a lot of the time sarcastic.

She knew that he was doing so for her sake. A sense of normalcy despite what they were currently doing. She was thankful for that.

A few more minutes of walking, and they found themselves in front of a wooden door, ornately carved with various designs. If she had to put a price on it, it would be in the hundreds of thousands of pounds at the minimum.

Without any hesitation, Archer opened the door and walked through. With a moment of hesitation suddenly finding itself into her throat, Lena took one gulp of the stale air, and followed.

It was…a reception room?

"Welcome to the Department of Policies front desk." And there was Archer, already sitting at the ancient office chair with an infuriating smirk, "How may I help you?"

A/N: If you like what I do and want to support me, check out my P-atreon at P-atreon•com(slash)Almistyor.

And a special thanks to: FireRogueWolf25, brutalcrab and Tassimo.