Her phone started buzzing across the kitchen counter just as the tea kettle began to whistle. Setting the paperwork down, she got up from the table and switched off the stove, snatching her phone as it skittered its way off the edge.

"Dr. Ziegler speaking."

"Sorry to bother you, doctor. There's a man at the hospital looking to speak with you," the nurse paused. "He seems rather ... insistent."

"I don't have any appointments today," she frowned. "Who is he with? Do you know what he wants?" Angela tucked the phone into her shoulder and poured the water into a mug to let the tea bag steep.

"He won't say, just that it's urgent," the nurse said. "I can have him come back tomorrow? Your schedule shows a free block after your 3 p.m. meeting."

More meetings, fantastic. "Yes that sounds fine, thank you, have a good rest of your Sunday."

She hung up the phone and sighed. Being a hospital's head of surgery had its perks, but the endless void of meetings was tedious. It was rare Angela had a quiet Sunday, and working from home was a simple reprieve from the chaotic nature of a hospital. She sat back down at the table to finish reviewing the proposed surgery schedule, a never-ending list that had to be shifted, rearranged and updated to accommodate the constant flow of patients. Everyone was scrambling to move surgeries to her hospital after her breakthrough with nanobiology; she wished she could help everyone trying to transfer a surgery, but the hospital simply didn't have the time or resources.

"There must be a better way to do this," Angela thought. "Death is so efficient, how can I make my treatments as immediate as the wounds they're meant to fix?"

One breakthrough would never be enough, even if she lied to herself. She dedicated her life to saving the unsaveable, and if she could stop another child from losing their parents to war, she would.

But it was also a Sunday, and she wasn't about to waste a beautiful summer day staring at manila folders. Angela took her tea and walked upstairs to the terrace, grabbing the copy of 20 Minuten she'd picked up on the way home. Warmth tickled her face as she sat down and glanced over the cover. At the hospital, she sometimes felt like the world could stop spinning and she'd never notice.

"OVER-WATCHED? HEROES CONTINUE NEWS DOMINATION" the headline screamed. "Heroes," Angela snorted. "Save a life? Boring. Blow up a bunch of buildings? Front page news!"

She'd always been suspicious of the international taskforce. In her opinion, it frequently bordered on lawless, and oftentimes it was more destructive than helpful after the first Omnic Crisis. Its members were practically celebrities, worshiped by the world for saving it, but she knew that salvation came with a price. Overwatch got away with more than any nation, probably because it was beholden to none, and the United Nations was far from a scary master.

"Enough of this," she muttered. She came outside to enjoy the weather, not get riled up about something out of her control.

Angela folded the chair back and placed her sun hat over her eyes. She couldn't get annoyed if she took a nap.

"You're seriously going over again?"

"Yes. I have an appointment."

"We stop machines from taking over the world, but you were defeated by some doctor's schedule?"

"Shut the fuck up."

Laughter followed Jack as the hotel door slammed. He hit down on the elevator and stepped on.

They weren't going to be in this part of Switzerland for much longer, and Jack was determined to meet this doctor. He didn't mind this part of country, it was as beautiful as everyone said, but they were here for a purpose. He wasn't trying to waste time.

The car was already at the curb when he walked out. Jack tipped the bellhop holding the door and slid into the black sedan. He wished he could drive himself, but he'd given up fighting security protocols a long time ago. The car sped away and he took a moment to familiarize himself with one Dr. Angela Ziegler.

Jack skimmed through the bio the U.N. had sent over: Young for a head of surgery, that's for sure. Pioneer of breakthrough nanobiology research. Brilliant, assertive, passionate. Not a huge fan of Overwatch. Parents killed in the first Omnic war.

Overwatch had been looking for a head of medical research for months, and the U.N. had recommended Ziegler because of the potential nanobiology held for combat medicine. Hopefully her "aversion to Overwatch tactics," as the biography described it, wouldn't be too much of a problem. They needed a doctor, and they needed one now; Russia was in the middle of a second Omnic Crisis, Talon was being a royal pain in the ass. They needed a miracle worker.

Fifteen minutes later the car pulled up to the front of the hospital. "I can open my own door," Jack told the driver before he had a chance to move. "Thank you."

Somewhere in this sterile prison was his doctor.

"Thank God I have an appointment," Jack thought.