A rifle barrel in your face.

"Tellement typique..." a soft voice says. Your eyes follow up the barrel until they reach the woman wielding it. She has purple skin and long, blue hair bound in a ponytail. She is dressed in a skin-tight bodysuit. Hana gasps beside you. "Widowmaker," she says, her voice taking an unusually fearful tone. "Bonjour, Hana," the purple-skinned woman replies. "I see you have brought me a gift," she says, gesturing towards you. Her left hand gently cradles your cheek. "And who might this mignonne be?"

Your swiftly reach for your sidearm, but are halted by a bright flash and searing pain as the French woman's foot connects with your face, sending you sprawling. "Non non non, ma petite chérie," she says. "I'll take that," she says, extending a hand. You begrudgingly pass the weapon over. She turns to Hana. "You too, mon petit amour."

"Now strip," she orders.

"You've can't be serious," you say.

"I assure you I very much am, chérie," she replies, chuckling slightly. Her features suddenly get very serious again. "Don't make me repeat myself."

Just then, Hana's MEKA flies up onto the roof, evidently having detected the enemy combatant. It knocks a very surprised Widowmaker over, your sidearm flying free from her grasp, clattering down on the rooftop a couple of feet away. It's all she can do to fire a grappling hook off, pulling herself accross the rooftop. She turns, firing the hook back at your robotic savior. It tangles up around its legs, the hook end lodging firmly in a gear assembly. She seemed fairly preoccupied as she pulled on the rope, attempting to pull the MEKA to the ground. Looking over, you see Hana collapsed on the ground, unconsious. Based off of the position of her weapon, you assume it must have knocked her in the head fairly hard when thrown and sent her spiralling into unconsiousness.