Overwatch: The Alternate Future

Prologue

Watch Point: Gibraltar

It has been months since Jack Morrison lost the young bright agent. The bubbly laughter, the youthful smile and that annoyingly cheerful British accent replayed in his head as he tried go back to sleep. So young and so hopeful. It was Jack's decision that led to her disappearance through the Slipstream – a newly developed teleportation device made by the engineers of the peacekeeping organization – Overwatch.

Jack was not convinced that the prototype was ready for deployment but when Lena Oxton's insistence to test pilot the jet, it was an opportunity that he cannot pass. But just as he had feared, the teleportation matrix malfunctioned and the jet along with Lena aka. Tracer, vanished in space. Two months and there was still no response from Tracer's end. Tracer was presumed dead by the Overwatch researchers.

Since then, Jack has not been able to sleep right. He tried drowning himself in his work but whenever there were seconds of the day he was able to think, the guilt poured all over his conciousness. He knew it was not ready and it should be his decision to stop Lena.

Jack stood up from his bed, draped his uniform and headed into the control center. He could not sleep and lying down restless was not helping his sanity. He could target practice, lift some weights or cook instant ramen. Whatever to lift his mind away from this ordeal. 

Death in Overwatch was as normal as a passing fly. Every agent knew what they signed up for. But when the war was over and peace temporarily settled, they then realized that death was easier than acknowledging the loss of a comrade. Jack remembers each and every member who died under his leadership. It was a painful reminder that Overwatch isn't  perfect no matter how much they pretend to be. Today he remembers Tracer as today marked the seventh month she was gone.

As Jack neared the landing strip for Overwatch jets and planes, he could hear shuffling and snoring. Torbjorn, a short Swedish cyborg with a mechanical hand was sound asleep on the sofa and the gorilla-scientist Winston was going through the papers, looking for signs that could recover Tracer. Winston was one of the few who has not given up hope. 

A small yellow rocket was in the middle of an airstrip. For a short moment, Jack thought the Slipstream was back but then realized it was probably the second prototype.

"You are up early," Winston gave Jack a quick glance and turned back to his work.

"You are up late," Jack replied. He picked some of the papers, hoppingly it have the answer to find Tracer. "Need any help?"

"Well, there is the algorithm on relativity that needs to be solved, finding the factor constituting to chronal dissociations and an empty coffee mug that could use some refill."

"You should get some rest," Jack said as Winston headed for the pantry.

"I'll be fine," Winston replied from behind a cabinet. "I am not the one that needs to give the United Nations the updates on Liche. I sit in headquarters all day while the rest of my family risk their lives fighting against the digital terror group. Sacrificing an hour of sleep or two is nothing."

"You do more than that." 

"How is the progress on the Liche case anyway?" Winston asked casually while scavenging their refrigerator. 

"Most of the leaders have been caught. A couple agents escaped but I am not too concern on the lackeys without their heads. The UN will decide on their fate next week." Jack read through the amendments made by Overwatch's engineering team on the Slipstream report and noticed a few notes. "It is written here that Tracer is alive."

"Technically you can say that," Winston replied with some clanging of glasses. "Our theory suggests that she is stuck in limbo where time do not exist. She is essentially frozen in space until time moves."

"And how does time moves?"

"Mass. Energy. A small disturbance from outside force is enough to kick start time. Why you asked?"

Jack was already in the second ship and had flicked the proper switches on. The lights of the ship blared awake and the exhaust pipe burst with bright blue energy. He knew all the essentials of the Slipstream including piloting one. The only reason he was not a pilot because his life was valued above other agents. A mistake he won't make again.

"Jack!" Winston ran out from the pantry with a spilled coffee mug and a jar of peanut butter. "What are you doing?"

"Rescuing Lena."

"It is not ready."

"Doesn't need to. Just a small disturbance will do right?"

What Winston wanted to say next, Jack will never know as he turned on the booster and the next thing he knew, he was flung backwards as a rush of energy swift pass him. The engine roared louder and the boot of the jet was bumping and moaning as if someone was stuck inside. The ship was passing through what looked like a blue vortex and for a split second, he thought he saw another ship passed him but in the very next moment he landed back on to the platform.

Jack got out of the smoking jet, coughing and shaking the weird sensation he felt traveling through him. He was not sure did the Slipstream worked but he was definitely not in limbo. Gibraltar's airstrip was exactly the same as the one he left few seconds except nothing was there. There were no papers and the pantry was empty except for a few empty peanut butter jars.

Jack walked on but could not find a single sentient entity. His first thought was the control centre. Someone has to be there. Athena, their artificial intelligence system, at least.

He Sprinted there, taking in the empty watch point as he passed. It was clean and neat but something was off. Overwatch runs with almost a hundred agents. Where could have everyone gone?

The control centre was deserted but signs of life were present. The computers were on, notes were everywhere and the smell of whiteboard marker fumed the room. Someone had been working.

Jack ran his fingers through the keyboard. It was on. Jack pressed the familiar enter button and the smooth glass screen flashed the date and time. It was then Jack realized that the Slipstream had brought him into the future - seven years ahead.