It was a cold, unforgiving night out along the dusty roads of Route 66.

When overwatch disbanded, you had gone the mercenary route, like most of the other former agents. It wasnt quite as cushy as you were used too, and the wear and tear had grinded down your sympathy and morality over the years.

You and Cole had been great friends in the past, but now, you two ended up working for rival gangs. You hadnt spoken in years, and there was an assumed hostility between you now.

Walking along a dusty road, tired and ready to get home, the revving of a swarm of bikes began to approach— speeding past you and skidding to a halt, blocking your path. A unfamiliar man at the head laughed, kicking up the stand to his bike.

“Well i’ll be damned. Not often i get to catch a rat alone.”

A familiar southern voice spoke up next, and to the side, you recognized Cole’s red poncho. His face was half covered by a scarf, however.

“ Hold on a minute, i recognize this one.”