Day of the Dead
Dorado, Mexico
Sundown

The purple-haired girl couldn't stop twiddling her fingers. The sharp, purple nails clicked against each other in rapid succession as she strolled down the street – not afraid of being seen, but not looking to, either. A gentle breeze flapped the high collar of her royal purple trench-coat. Her face was painted to match those around her. The stark-white makeup and skull-like features helped to hide her face from any surveillance equipment, not that she would be flagged on it, and covered her signature neon-green Los Muertos tattoo.

She glanced over her shoulder, nails still clacking against each other as she turned down an alleyway, then another, a third and fourth until finally she ducked suddenly into the back entrance of a small restaurant. It was very crowded, something she had been counting on and hoping for. Several dozen partyers were all dressed up, much like herself. Some only wore skull masks which they had set to the side in order to eat the endless chips, guac and enchiladas. Others wore full outfits of black with white bone outlines stenciled on.

In the corner bright neon tattoos glowed over omnics and humans alike as the Los Muertos gang celebrated the Dia de Los Muertos in loud and festive style. The hacker glanced around for a moment before heading to the unseen back corner of the restaurant. She turned, sliding past two guests who bumped into her, almost knocking her uzis out from under her trench coat. She was resisting the almost insatiable urge to activate her thermoptic camouflage and simply disappear as she had so many times. To Los Muertos she was either dead or a traitor, and neither bode well to be spotted by the gang – especially after they had consumed alcohol.

Finally she made it though, and she slid into the booth, glancing around the corner once more to make sure she hadn't been seen.

"You seem a little jumpy." An aging feminine voice with a heavy Egyptian accent called.

Sombra turned to Ana Amari, ignoring her comment. "Three dead people in a booth on dia de los muertos, ironic, no?"

"Whatcha got, kid?" the gruff voice of Jack Morrison called. He sat perhaps farthest back in the shadows, slouched in his seat, signature Soldier: 76 jacket unzipped halfway and a cup of beer in his hand.

"I'm no nina, gramps." She retorted.

"No," Soldier responded. "You've got the attitude of a spoiled five year-old."

"Jack, hush!" Ana chastised. "You called us, Sombra. What do you want?"

Ana's voice was soft and gentle, like a mother's would be. It reminded Sombra of Fareeha Amari and how strong Ana's daughter was, even after the fall of Overwatch and her mother's death.

"To make a friend." Sombra grinned. Her confidence was returning, but her paranoia persisted. She slid further into the booth and waved her fingers at the digital menu. A waiter omnic hovered over, delivering a prismatic alcoholic drink in a margarita glass. The hacker swallowed it in one mouthful and set the glass back down, turning to the waiter with puffed out cheeks and holding up two fingers.

"You said you had something?" Soldier asked.

"Yes," Sombra responded, waving her fingers and pulling up several holo images. "But first, you."

"Us?" Soldier asked, sitting up.

Ana slid her hand into her trench-coat and a moment later pulled out a small box. She slid it across the table, glancing outward, away from Jack, as she did. Sombra opened the box and grinned at the contents.

"Muchos gracias!" she grinned from ear to ear, pocketing the box.

"What was that?" Soldier demanded, sitting straight up now.

"Careful not to raise your voice, Jack." Sombra smirked. "Wouldn't want to attract the attention of Los Muertos or la policia, yes?"

Jack sat back. "I'll explain later, Jack." Ana promised softly.

The waiter returned and set the two drinks down. Sombra picked up one and sipped it.

Sombra spun the holo-images with a smooth flick of her wrist, flattening them and sliding them over to the two veterans. Soldier moved, craning his neck to see.

"The Swedish base, where it all went murcielago," Sombra said, leaning in as if she could be overheard. "It was a Talon op."

"We know as much." Soldier said, studying the images – grisly surveillance footage and crime scene photographs floating centimeters above the table.

"What you don't know is that it wasn't yours or Gabrielle's fault."

Both looked up at this.

"What're you talking about?" Soldier demanded.

"Angela Zeigel mentions in her official report to the United Nations that the explosive confrontation between you two caused the downfall, but she's quiet on details and the rest of Overwatch is, well, absolutamente silencioso. What no-one knows, no-one but me, is that Talon had infiltrated Overwatch from the very beginning. Not a core member, but one of the first afterwards was a plant. They seeded conflict between the two of you without either of you knowing. They planted the explosives. They are to blame."

"Who was it?" Ana asked, looking up.

"Don't know," Sombra replied, leaning back and finishing her first drink. "But they worked for Argus."

"Argus?" Ana asked.

"A mythical being with a thousand eyes." Sombra explained. "Talon may be a shark, but the organization above them? That's the whale."

Clearly the two Founding Members did not know anything about a second organization.

"Not to worry," Sombra replied, reading their expressions with a knowing smile. "I don't think anyone knows of them."

"So what you're telling us is that Overwatch was doomed from the beginning; that Talon had infiltrated our earliest recruits and engineered our downfall without us knowing?"

"Exactly," Sombra replied, picking up the second drink and taking a sip out of it. She waved her fingers and the images slid back into her hand where she compressed them into a small cube and snapped her fingers, it disappearing.

"I'll hold onto these for safe-keeping." She winked, taking another sip. "In the meantime, maybe you can round up some of your amigos and see what they know. Try to not tell them too much though. I don't trust them." Her eyes squinted. "And you shouldn't either."

"Any suggestions on where to start?" Soldier asked, his beer sitting on the table, abandoned.

"Well, I've already talked to Joel…"

"Joel?" Ana asked.

"Jesse McCree." Sombra giggled, covering her mouth with the tips of her fingers, laughing at a joke only she understood. "It seems he was truly incompetent about what was going on with Blackwatch. Vaquero was only there for the excitement and redemption."

Soldier nodded. "We'll get started." Ana nodded, a serious expression on her face. "Thank you for bringing this to us."

"You two've been looking for a long time. I figured I should help out."

The two looked slightly surprised.

"I've got my fingers in all the pies." Sombra laughed, finishing her final drink. She moved to leave, but Ana put a hand on hers – and Sombra quickly snatched her hand away.

"You took a great risk coming to us. Why?"

Sombra hesitated, only for a second, but long enough for Ana to pick up on.

"Because the world needs Los Protectores." The hacker responded.

She stood up. "Mind if I tell Fareeha you said 'hello'?" Sombra grinned. She giggled at the astounded look on Ana's face and waved her fingers.

"Adios," and she was gone in a flash of purple.

The two veterans sat there for a moment. Finally Jack picked up his beer and took a guzzle. "Kid's got issues."

Ana stared at the spot where the hacker had stood, an unknown emotion on her face. "How much do you think she knows?"

"What're you talking about?" Jack asked.

"She never said anything about herself and managed to avoid saying anything of substance – anything other than what she came here to deliver. And the way she was talking about Sweden – she knows."

Fear crept onto Jack's face. "Why would she help us?"

"Maybe she doesn't know the whole story. Or maybe she does and just believes in Overwatch enough to look past mistakes."

"That's a big mistake." Jack responded, his glass empty.

Silence.

"What'd you give her anyway?"

Sombra reappeared on the rooftop across the street, her body re-forming on the pre-planted teleporter. She squatted down, pulling the payment she had received from Ana out of her pocket, opening it and smiling.

"A symbol of the past, and maybe, of the future." Ana responded.

Sombra pulled out the medal, the tips of her nails holding it. The signature Overwatch logo engraved on one side. She flipped it. On the other side, engraved in Arabic, was the phrase "For my daughter, Fareeha, may she live in a safer world." Only a dozen of these had been made – handed out by the United Nations at the end of the First Omnic Crisis to the members of Overwatch who had helped bring an end to the war.

She pulled up surveillance from a camera inside the restaurant. She watched the two veterans talk. She zoomed in on their faces and saved it as an image. She looked at it for a moment, then with a tap of her finger, filed it away.

"Boop!"