Chapter 01
SEOUL
The flight into Korea was quiet and uneventful. As arguably one of the best pilots in the world, it felt a little weird for Tracer to be flying commercial, but her time in Overwatch hadn't left her that well off, and where was one supposed to store a plane capable of intercontinental flight in downtown London anyway? Instead, Tracer found herself flying business-class on a Boeing 787 and trying her damnedest to relax; she found this difficult at first, then they brought around the fizzy drinks and it was easy. (A slender 5'4", Tracer was an incredible lightweight when it came to champagne.) The poor gentleman to her right was forced to endure a good hour of her nonstop rambling before he had the good sense to pretend to be asleep; as it was a 11 hour flight not scheduled to arrive until early the next morning, Tracer figured it would probably be wise to follow suit. Having said that, it was still high noon Greenwich (Tracer smiled at this realization, absentmindedly wondering how McCree was doing on the lam), and her mind clearly had different plans. She didn't sleep a wink until late into that night.
Her destination was Seoul—Gimpo International, to be specific, as Incheon was too near the sea to be considered a safe destination for commercial flights these days. Athena had arranged there for her a meeting with “a prominent member of the Korean military”, who seemed enthusiastic about having her put in their service. A touch addled from the champagne, Tracer pulled out her phrasebook and attempted to study up before her arrival—Athena had assured her that the official spoke English, which was fortunate as Tracer sure as heck didn't know any Korean. But studying was never Tracer's strong point—she was too easily distracted—and she soon gave up. She opted instead to blast 에픽하이 Epik High through her headphones out of the vain hope she'd be able to absorb something through osmosis.
The chorus rang in her ears: “I didn't realize that the show was over.” The band was coming back with their first studio album after two of their members had been conscripted for years of mandatory military service; Tracer found that the sensation felt familiar, even if her situation was reversed. After spending so much time with Overwatch, the military was her normalcy, and she felt an uncertain excitement to be coming back.
The gradual decline of their descent woke Tracer from her nap. She glanced at her watch: 08:57 local time. They were arriving right on schedule. She yawned and stretched, then was suddenly jolted forward as the plane's wheels touched the ground. Frowning at the unexpected disruption, she popped her back and began quickly to gather her things. Her shoulders were sore from where her chronal accelerator had made contact with the seat, and she was eager to be on her feet again. She tapped her foot impatiently at baggage claim, and before long was out on the streets. “Nando, find me a coffee,” she muttered. It pained her British tea-drinking sensibilities, but the Americans were right—nothing cured jetlag like an old-fashioned cup o' joe.
“There is a McDonald's a few hundred yards east of here,” came her watch's electronic reply.
“Perfect,” she said, heading off in the appropriate direction. Tracer loved McDonald's.
They didn't sell bagels at the McDonald's outside of Gimpo International Airport, which didn't surprise Tracer particularly since they didn't sell bagels in most of the McDonald's she'd visited around the world, but they sold bagels in the McDonald's outside her apartment in London so it was always worthwhile to check. She ordered extra hash browns to compensate, and by “extra” she meant, like, five. She found the coffee to be… bracing, and she drank it slowly as she ate. She had just finished her sandwich when a text message from Athena appeared on her phone.
Tracer. Please do not miss your appointment?
Love, Athena
She rolled her eyes. Athena was undoubtedly monitoring her position, but glancing at her watch, she still had an hour. Tracer was more than effective at moving quickly when the situation required. Nevertheless, if only to appease Athena's nerves (circuits?), she decided it wouldn't hurt to get going. She dumped a handful of sugar packets into her coffee and chugged the rest, before discarding her trash and stepping back out onto the street. It was the end of May, and the weather was clear and temperate. There was a bus stop nearby, and she caught the next one travelling east as soon as it arrived.
One transfer later and she was standing outside the public offices for the Republic of Korea's Ministry of National Defense with fifteen minutes to spare. She showed her passport to a man in the front office, and a phone call later an escort arrived to take her to her destination. The escort seemed friendly enough, but he was clearly not a talker: Tracer's attempts to strike up a conversation fell immediately flat. Surprisingly, this didn't bother her: She was jetlagged enough to not mind a walk in silence.
She found herself in a nicely-furnished office, greeted by an older pudgy man who, while his uniform suggested he was highly-decorated, had clearly left his days of running about in the field behind him. The man closed the door behind her, although Tracer noticed that her escort still waited outside. Either they thought she needed the extra security (which she doubted), or they didn't expect the meeting to take long. She wracked her brain for the man's name—Athena had mentioned it in a message, but of course it would be rude for her to pull out her phone now. She was fairly certain his surname was Kim; in any case, it was as good a guess as any. Kim… Yung-keun? He certainly had no doubts about who she was.
“Ms. Oxton,” he said, smiling and shaking her hand. “A pleasure.”
“Right,” she replied, a little absentmindedly. This side of military operations—the meetings, the bureaucracy—was never one she'd had a particular knack for. She was a field agent; her M.O. was to get in there, take out as many bad guys as she could, and then get the hell out of Dodge. Jack had always handled the… other bits, and it felt weird doing things for once without his oversight. A little like signing her first lease, to be honest. “Apologies in advance if I seem a little out of it; it was a long flight over.”
“Yes, yes.” Kim what's-his-name seemed cheery, which Tracer took as a good sign—it was clear that he wanted her on their side. “Uneventful?” he asked.
Tracer nodded. “Very.” There had never been any Korean members on Overwatch, at least not any that she'd known, and so she found his accent more than a little difficult to parse. He seemed perfectly fluent, however, and she imagined that it was something she would just have to get used to.
“Good.” The man walked over and took a seat at his desk—large, well-organized, with a number of family photo frames and accoutrements of various sizes—and Tracer followed suit, taking a seat on the opposite side. “Well,” he said, clasping his hands in his lap. “To business.”
Tracer nodded, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves.
“Your AI explained to me your current situation,” Kim continued. “After what happened at the museum, it is good that you have decided to… play by the rules.” He laughed. “We were all a little worried.”
Here Kim paused, although it seemed to be mostly for effect, as he had no trouble finding his next words. “I am a little surprised, though,” he said, “that you decided to contact us directly? Normally this is something that would be arranged between governments— It's not often a British citizen shows up on our doorstep volunteering to join the Korean Army!” He laughed again.
Tracer got his intent immediately. He wanted to know where her loyalties lay. “Well, as you know, I'm not a member of the British Armed Forces,” Tracer replied, choosing her words carefully, “and we figured that the sooner I could get over here helping out, the better. As an ex-member of Overwatch, defeating the Omnic threat is always my first priority.”
“Yes, well, your history and abilities certainly put you in a unique position!” Kim gestured quite intentionally at her chest, where the chronal accelerator glowed softly. “We can't just turn you away. I've put in word with Jang Seo-jun, who commands the MEKA force down in Busan, and he has promised to set you up with a worthwhile position.” He picked a folder up off of his desk and handed it to her. Tracer took a quick glance inside and then let it rest on her lap. “Your travel information is in there,” Kim continued, “as well as accommodations for the night. The secretaries at the front desk will help arrange your paperwork and visa, so be sure to see them on your way out. In the meantime, hopefully you will permit us a short interview for the press? The country is excited to welcome you.”
“Right. Of course.” A presser she could do. At their peak, Overwatch members had been bona fide celebrities, and Tracer had always taken to the spotlight better than the rest. She liked inspiring people, and her upbeat, cheery energy had quickly made her a favourite for the public and journalists alike. After Overwatch had disbanded, she did a number of high-profile sponsorships, but as public interest in the organization had faded, so too had requests to use her image. She was sure she was more than a little rusty.
“Perfect.” A large grin spread across the man's face. “We'll receive you at 14:00, then?” He shook her hand again, and soon Tracer was being escorted back to the entrance.
“Nando, shoot Athena a message for me,” she said. “The meeting was a success.”
The interview, accompanied by a photo shoot, was brief and went well. “Korea is one of the most experienced nations in the world when it comes to dealing with the Omnic threat; I came to do what I can; yes, I am very excited to be here”—this was the gist of her statements, and the press seemed pleased enough with her answers. Now she reclined on her bed in the hotel room that the military had graciously provided her, watching the news and sipping her tea before bed.
BREAKING: Ex-Overwatch Member Teams Up With Korean Government To Put An End To The Omnic Cris…
Tracer flicked off the television. She would read the story in the paper tomorrow, to be sure, but something about seeing her name and visage broadcast on national television was a touch intimate and personal for her right now. This was unusual for her—back when Overwatch was active, she used to love watching recaps of her heroics on the vids, listening to people reacting to her exploits with surprise and amazement. Of course, back then, everyone thought she was amazing; that was back before the controversies broke, back before the world had started looking at the organization's efforts, including hers, with a little more suspicion and doubt. It was infectious. She wondered, now, if she was doing the right thing—back then her objectives had been a lot easier to define, and she had felt conviction carrying them out, but now? Going into Korea and… somehow magically convincing them to join Overwatch's side? If she was fighting Omnics, it couldn't be a bad thing, but… something about it tugged at her mind anyway. She wished Ana, or Jack, were still around to give her direction. Tracer wasn't one for mourning, but it was times like this that she missed them most.
Her phone buzzed, and at a glance she saw that it was from Athena—updates from the other team members, no doubt. She tossed her phone aside without reading the message. Whatever it was, it could wait until morning. She hugged a pillow close to her chest and closed her eyes. Right now, she needed sleep.