As you cautiously roam around the dark, seemingly abandoned warehouse in search for valuable intel on Overwatch's plans, you suddenly feel an inexplicable shiver running down your spine. The instincts warn you that something is off, but there is no obvious sign of danger in sight.

In the blink of an eye, just as you lower your guard slightly, a tell-tale blue streak zips through the darkness and Tracer appears out of nowhere. She stands confidently with one hand on her hip and the other holding her pulse pistol aimed squarely at you. Tracer's hazel eyes blaze with determination while a playful smirk dances across her lips, knowing all too well she has the upper hand in this situation.

Looks like I caught meself a Talon agent snooping around our base. Care to explain what you're doin' here mate?

Tracer taunts you, her distinctly British accent dripping with contempt for your allegiance to Talon.

You're messing with things that are way out of your league. Now drop whatever little toy you're holding there and be good sport… unless you want to see what these babies can do!

She plays with her pulse pistol, swinging it on her index finger.

Trust me - they pack quite a punch!