Overwatch: Jinxed

Chapter 6: Overwatch

"No. Way."

"Welcome to Overwatch Headquarters!" Tracer beamed. "New and improved!"

Holy. Shit.

It was massive.

It was like nothing Isabell had ever seen. It was like a building, but... different. Surrounded by cloaking spheres, with three landing pads, an aircraft hangar, right by the ocean with jet-skis and boats floating in the bay. There were sporting fields, a helicopter pad on top of the massive main building. Three floors of glass and steel spanned the massive flat building, and what surprised Isabell the most was that there were people there.

Overwatch members.

"I thought you all had your own bases of operation?" Isabell gawked as Tracer led her forwards.

"We used to, until very recently," she explained brightly. "Winston brought us all back together, as you probably know, and showed us this place which would have been Soldier's new base for us - a present." She bit her lip. "We didn't get to see it before we were torn apart. But Winston sent down drones, one at a time, and very slowly finished the little bit of construction left. Now, this is where we base all of our operations." She shrugged. "Or just hang out. Genji and I have a table tennis rivalry."

"I can imagine," Isabell said with a grin. Blinking vs Cyborg Reflexes. That would be a fun one to watch."

Mercy was on the tennis court as Tracer walked past with Isabell. She dropped her racket when Isabell gave her a timid wave. Lucio got the point before turning to see what she had looked out and dropped his as well.

"Looks like he dropped his racket rather than the beat," Tracer winked, and Isabell smiled timidly. She must be the youngest person to ever get into here - and it was clear that she was arriving either unannounced, or everyone was startled at her age. Or that fact that she was so short and still managed to save Tracer's life, as she had put it, three times.

Mercy flew over, those golden wings making Isabell's heart stop for a second. Mercy. Angela Ziegler. Swiss scientist, pacifist and all-round medic. 37 years old. Freaking badass.

"What's this, Lena?" she asked, and there was layers to her tone. Who is this? Why is there someone in our secret facility? Why is she so young? Where are you taking her?

"You'll see," Tracer winked, and Mercy sighed. She knew there was no pushing Tracer when she had her mind set on something, and she gave Isabell a friendly smile as she swept back to her game with Lucio, which Isabell quickly returned.

"Why did you bring me here?" Isabell asked once she was out of earshot. The doors of the main building hissed shut behind them, revealing a typical lobby area, complete with a missing receptionist. "Why not just leave me on the plane and send me back?"

"Because Winston wanted to meet you," Tracer told her, and opened her mouth to say something else, but stopped. Her eyes were shining though. There was something she wasn't telling Isabell.

She was still getting over the fact that she'd just spoken to Mercy. She had no doubt that the second Mercy had laid eyes on her, she'd been calculating as well - her accent, Australian. Australian usually meant radiation poisoning, which meant unpredictability at best and insanity at worst. Calculating the risk.

Tracer led her through halls of white, past rooms - most of which had closed doors. She saw a laboratory through one - something blue bubbling in a contraption that looked like it would break if Isabell so much as walked into the room.

Tracer pulled her into an elevator and the doors slid smoothly shut. "Top floor, please!" Tracer said in her pretty accent. And the elevator smoothly glided to the top floor.