A figure ran through the shadows, in what seemed to be an old and somewhat worn down parking lot. The figure was a young adult, just barely old enough to drink alcohol. In any case, he was panting like he'd been running from a bear. To be fair, that's a bit of an understatement. What he was running from, was a genetically enhanced war-grizzled veteran who'd just yelled "I've got you in my sights!" This aforementioned young man was standing behind a pillar, biding his time with a bow in his hands, firing red arrows that practically shimmered with heat. It sounds much more glamorous than it actually was. In reality, he was simply firing around the pillar blindly, the arrows hitting the ground and exploding like they'd been strapped with a stick of dynamite. In any case, they served their purpose, delaying his adversary long enough for him to lose his advantage.

Watching this passively were a set of rather old looking men in suits, sitting by screens which displayed the events as this happened.

In the meantime, the younger combatant had moved to another piece of cover, a car this time round. However, during the moments he'd dashed to his current placement, he'd lost track of his adversary's position. The young adult was not so naïve to think that his opponent was gone, incapacitated or had lost track of him, so the only possibility was that he was sneaking on him. Running his cone of vision 360 degrees around him, he did not see anything nor was he able to hear anything, not even a breath. One in this situation would logically assume that he was hidden behind cover, but that wouldn't make any sense, after all, any cover around either had a disadvantageous line of fire, was destructible or was simply too small to fit behi- . Still in the middle of the thought, he felt two hands grab the back of his head. He never felt the twist.

By the screens, the men watched as he slumped to the floor. One of them nodded "Outstanding results. He did better than we expected." Anyone who didn't know that these men were the UN's top military brass, or that the boy who'd supposedly died was actually still alive, would believe that they'd ordered a hit on him.  Currently, the only wound that he was nursing was a bump swelling on his head due to an abrupt awakening which caused his head to smack straight into the head of their team medic, a kindly swiss medical scientist named Angela Ziegler. This abrupt awakening was caused by his sudden and violent death in a training simulation known as Envision. The man he was fighting earlier, none other than the famous Jack Morrison nodded, an approving smile on his face. "You passed. Welcome to Overwatch." 

The recruit, along with quite a few others had just joined what would eventually be known as the world's most elite combat unit.... but not before a few misadventures.