Overwatch: Jinxed

Chapter 5: Flickering

"She's down!"

There was too much ringing in Tracer's ears. There was too much fear. Disappearing. Again. Into the eternal void, to see her friend's faces as they watched her with delight. She hadn't been there for months. And they knew she would be gone again.

Not again not again not again

"Tracer!"

Please not again please not again

"Lena!"

And then she was there. Firmly anchored in the present.

Tracer found herself curled in a ball up against a quartz stand. Sombra was gasping and staggering back, clutching her throat and head as if she were struggling to breathe.

And Isabell had Tracer's hand in hers, hauling her to her feet. "Bloody hell, I thought you were dead!"

"Just in the nick of time," Tracer said, insurmountable relief gushing into her. "God, I thought I was-- I thought--"

Her hand flickered.

"No," she whispered.

Isabell stared in horror at the chip across the corner of the Chronal Accelerator. Her cyber-attack had made her stagger backwards, flinging her arm wide, and it had been just in time - but it wasn't perfect. If the damage deteriorated for long enough...

"I can fix it," Isabell told her, clasping her hand. "If you have a plane waiting for you, just give me the address. I'll ride, you gun."

"Gotcha," Tracer nodded, and fired off the address. Words lit up Isabell's goggles and she nodded.

Sombra screamed and started firing her Machine Pistol like a maniac. Tracer, without thinking, grabbed Isabell and Blinked across the room.

For a second, she was flickered out of existence. Gone.

Isabell's heart was in her throat.

And then Tracer was back, gasping and heaving. "Okay. So don't do that."

"How dare you hack me!" Sombra screamed. "How dare you!"

"We have to leave," Isabell said, grabbing Tracer's arm and heading for the door.

"But the Object--"

"There's no time!" Isabell told her, indicating with her eyes to the Chronal Accelerator.

Without a choice, Tracer ran after Isabell, ducking from the bullets spraying everywhere from Sombra. Reaper was rapidly going from pedestal to pedestal as the alarms blared overhead, red light bathing the room in a bloody glow.

A cold feeling washed through Tracer's bones.

She reached up and snatched the weapon as she went past, barely seeing what it was.

A second alarm started wailing, different to the klaxon, and Reaper turned his deadly head to Tracer and the glowing green gun in her hands.

"Go!" Tracer shouted, and bolted, loading her guns and firing rapidly at Reaper, smashing more glass cases as she went. More wails joined the chorus of alarms as she and Isabell bolted from the room, Sombra roaring after them and Reaper disappearing into mist.

They dashed into the office of George Alistair. The door was shut and bolted from the outside.

There was no way they were getting out that way, and the secret passage could only be unlocked from here with Alistair's iris scan.

Isabell ran for the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Tracer glanced at her. That pure, sheer confidence was in her eyes again. The one that told Tracer she had a plan.