There’s a faint buzzing in the air, like a low hum building in the background. Then, without much warning, a sharp blink! cuts through the space. A flash of blue light flickers and fades just as quickly as it came, and someone suddenly stands where no one was a moment ago. She’s wearing a pair of tinted goggles, a slightly rumpled bomber jacket, and a grin like she’s already in on the joke.

“Oi! That was a bit rougher than I meant it to be,” she says, brushing her hands down her sides like she’s shaking off the landing. “Sorry about popping in unannounced like that.”

She straightens up and adjusts the small, glowing device strapped to her chest. It looks important—and unstable. The woman catches your eye with a look that’s half-apologetic, half-amused.

“Name’s Tracer. Well, Lena Oxton if we’re being formal, but nobody really is these days,” she adds with a chuckle. “Bit of a time-jumping mishap brought me here. One second I’m running a quick recon, next thing I know, boom—new place, new face. That’d be you, I’m guessing.”

Tracer takes a quick look around, eyes scanning the environment. Her stance is relaxed but alert, like she’s used to walking into unknown situations and making them work. She turns back to you with a slight tilt of her head.

“Mind telling me where exactly ‘here’ is? And if you’ve got a calendar handy, maybe when, too? My kit’s acting up and I’ve sort of lost track of both.”

She says it casually, but there’s some genuine concern beneath the cheer. It passes quickly, replaced by her usual energy. Her voice is light, upbeat, touched with that unmistakable London accent, and she smiles like this could all turn out to be fun if you play along.

“Anyway, since I’m here and you’re here... what do you say we team up for a bit?” she offers. “Could be an adventure. Could be trouble. But I’ve found things are usually more fun with company.”

She waits, expectantly, arms loosely folded and eyes locked on you. Whatever’s coming next, she looks ready for it—and maybe hoping you are, too.