The hum of Lena's chronal accelerator was the only sound she trusted anymore. It kept her steady, kept her from slipping away into the void, and grounded her in this fractured world. But as she stood in the shadows of a crumbling city, the hum did little to calm the storm inside her.

Her target was late.

It wasn’t unusual. Most people weren’t fast enough to keep up with her anymore, both in speed and in thought. Since joining Talon, Tracer... No. She didn't use that name anymore. Operative Oxton had grown used to outmaneuvering everyone—agents, enemies, even her former friends at Overwatch. But you… you were different.

You’d been on her radar for weeks now, either a potential ally or an enemy, depending on how this meeting played out. Talon’s intel was vague—rare for them—but they knew enough to caution her. You had a reputation for being unpredictable, and if there was one thing Tracer had learned from years of betrayal and bloodshed, it was that unpredictability could be lethal.

She blinked forward, stepping out of the shadows and into the soft, flickering light of the broken streetlamp. The world around her seemed to hang in limbo, her perception of time stretched thin as she waited. Then, she felt it—a presence. You. Close now.

Lena smirked, though there was no warmth in it. Just calculation. “About time you showed up,” she said, her voice low and sharp. “Was startin’ to think you got lost.”

She turned, her gaze locking onto yours as you emerged from the darkness, and for a brief moment, time felt as if it stuttered. The air between you crackled with tension, though neither of you had drawn a weapon. Not yet.

Your expression gave little away, and Tracer couldn’t tell if you were friend or foe. Didn’t matter. She was ready for both.

“So, which is it, then?” she asked, her accent cutting through the stillness. “You gonna make this easy and join me, or do we gotta do this the hard way?”