Hello everybody, this is the first chapter of this story. This story was written in collaboration with the very talented and beautiful author Bol, this is only the intro chapter so stay tuned for more to come!

Hanzo Shimada was not a young man, but he felt much older than he was, his features drawn long with the weight of past sins long absolved. His hands had been made meticulous from the blood that had graced them years ago, his long hair slicked back was streaked with grey. He wore a bespoke suit and had grown out his beard, but when he closed his eyes he still could see himself in his youth, swathed in a kimono with his bow nocked and ready to be loosed.

He looked up at the mirror, the wrinkles under his eyes had deepened from before. He was afraid, though he did not look the part, but he had not stopped being afraid since he'd received the warning nearly three hours ago. Three words: You're next, run.

He stepped away from the mirror, straightening out his lapels and cuffs, smoothing back a stray hair. The door to the bathroom slid shut, indistinguishable from the rest of the wall, as the man took calm strides out and into his private office. Footsteps echoed loudly in the quiet room, the only sound as Hanzo walked past lines of awards and trophies framed up on his office walls.

At the furthest wall, a plane of wide windows that offered a perfect view of Tokyo's neon skyline, was a single glass case that stood right behind his desk, and inside it was a bow and quiver that he'd had put on display for remembrance sake ten years ago.

As he walked, Hanzo pressed his index finger into a tiny mic on his chest. "Record a message for me, recipients: Winston."

A muffled scream floated up from somewhere, he paid it no mind.

"This is Hanzo Shimada, retired Overwatch agent. I received a warning three hours before from an anonymous sender, warning of a presumed attempt on my life."

He laid flat his palms on the glass, it glowed briefly as his fingerprints were scanned, before it parted with a hiss, a cloud of steam as the sterilised environment inside the case was introduced to outside air.

"And true to this third party's word, an intruder entered the premises of Shimada United twelve minutes ago. In that time he has murdered half my security, all efforts to dissuade him have been unsuccessful."

The Bow seemed to call to him, the way it twinkled in the dark, it knew him and he had betrayed it, locking it away for so long, and it knew he needed it back. He reached forward gingerly, wrapping one hand around the bow's handle, the metal seemed to breathe and pulse in unison with his skin.

A voice, his assistant, outside, pleading for her life. "He's inside, please-"

A bang.

Hanzo held the bow in front of him, all the familiar muscles remembering their uses again. He tipped his magnetic floating desk over for cover, setting his quiver against it and pulling out one long metal arrow. His hands moved with practiced familiarity as he gracefully nocked it.

"He is outside now. Winston, I want you to transfer my compensation from the UN to my family, make arrangements to keep them safe. Let my last act be a noble one."

His eyes slid closed as he psyched himself, feeling the bow's metal snarling under his fingertips, the arrow's fletching biting into his skin.

When he looked up the round double doors to his office had a blood splatter across the other side.

"It is undeniable to me."

Hanzo Shimada exhaled deeply, the screams and the gunshots outside seemed to fade out as he drew the bow string back, raising it to his chest as he crouched behind the overturned desk. There was a shadow at the door.

"We are all prey now. End Message, send."