"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.
"You ready to meet the big guy?" she winked at Isabell.
Isabell's stomach was doing cartwheels and tying itself into knots. Winston. The superintelligent ape scientist who had created the Chronal Accelerator, Athena, God knew what else - who had the power to go Primal and tear anyone he saw fit apart.
Isabell swallowed in answer.
"He's just a big softie," Tracer told her, and the doors slid open.
Isabell glanced at her quick patch-up job of the Chronal Accelerator, and she could already hear Winston's disapproval. It wasn't good enough.
They emerged into a single, massive room, separated by sheets of glass into sections. They had writing all over them and computers in every nook and cranny, tool benches, power modules, a wall filled with just different types of power generators.
Isabell was in heaven.
But she kept one hand on her nunchucks. Just in case.
"Wiiiinstooooon!" Tracer called.
And then she was hit by a truck.
He was huge.
Wearing plates of white smeared with grease, cute glasses too small for his blue face, midnight fur ruffling as he laughed. It was the same deep, rumbling noise that Isabell had heard while on the plane, and it was the only reason that she didn't whip out the nunchucks there and then.
Isabell sat awkwardly to one side while Winston and Tracer hugged it out, laughing, before he stepped back and looked at her.
Isabell didn't move for sheer terror. Jesus, he was big.
He smiled warmly, and her hand drifted away from her nunchucks. "Thank you," he said, his voice much quieter and yet more growly than I had anticipated. "Thank you. This job you did on the Chronal Accelerator - how did you manage it?"
Isabell decided that honesty was the best policy. She had the feeling that lying to Winston wasn't something she should do right off the bat. "I asked Athena for the blueprints to it a year ago," she said honestly.
His eyebrows shot up, and then he growled in suspicion. "How did you--"
"Winston," Tracer interjected, Blinking between him and Isabell. Isabell had never felt more grateful in her life. "This is Isabell."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "How do you even know who Athena is?"
"I found her," Isabell swallowed. "I've been watching Overwatch's activity for years. It was through Athena that I found out about all of the members, and when you decided to... press that button. Bring them all back together."
"I never even saw--"
"I made sure you didn't," Isabell cut in. "No offense, but if you found an Australian hacking through your accounts, you wouldn't react well."
Winston still looked suspicious. "Lena, may I speak to you alone?"
Tracer glanced at Isabell, and then nodded. Winston walked into the maze of glass and closed a door behind them.
Isabell touched the side of her goggles, where the speaker was right next to ear. It beeped, and zoomed in on the room. Crackly audio spewed into her ears, fuzzy but intelligible.
"What was that?" Tracer asked.
"Why have you brought her here?" Winston growled. "I asked to meet her, not for you to bring her into the heart of our operations!"
"Winston," Tracer folded her arms. "Look at her! You should have seen what she did, you should have seen how she reacted. She took down Sombra twice! She was the only reason we found the weapon and she was the only reason I got out of there alive."
"Lena," Winston said dangerously. "She's Australian. The radiation--"
"She uses to her advantage!" Tracer cut him off. "The radiation didn't hurt her in any way, physical or mental. Just give her a chance, Winston - just see her in action."
Isabell's chest was tight as she saw Winston pausing, calculating. Isabell didn't know what Tracer meant by 'in action', but Winston seemed to know, and his brow was furrowed as he thought.
Isabell jumped as a hand was placed on her shoulder. A Swiss-accented voice lilted from behind her. "Don't blame Winston," Mercy said softly. "After what happened before... he just wants us to be safe."
Isabell said nothing as Mercy walked into the maze of glass towards her own area, further at the back of the impossibly huge room. Isabell could see plans and drawings of the different pieces of her Valkyrie suit, and a half-finished wing on the bench.
"Winston," Tracer said softly, and put a hand on his shoulder. "I trust her. Besides... you'll have a field day with her motorbike. With her in general."
Winston loosed a breath, and looked at Tracer. "If you trust her, then so do I. She's so young--"
"So was I," Tracer smiled, tilting her head. "But she's so much more like you than you realize. The lunar colony, you were an outcast. In her own country, she's an outcast. She lived alone. The Junkers wouldn't accept her because she was too smart and didn't possess their slight insanity, and the normal people wouldn't accept her because she was considered a Junker. And-- oh! I have so much to tell you, how we escaped Reaper and Sombra, how she hacked Sombra--"
"Nobody can hack Sombra," Winston opened the door for her, and Isabell quickly switched off her sound breach.
"She did," Tracer gestured to Isabell, and she flushed.
"Well then," Winston smiled, softer than I expected. He and Tracer had something special, that was for sure. He extended his hand. "Winston."
"Isabell," she answered, her hand lost in his massive palm as they shook.
"Jinx," Tracer grinned.
"Well, Isabell," Winston nodded, and released her hand, gesturing to the window.
"Welcome to Overwatch Headquarters."