Hello! I have recently entered the addicting world of Overwatch and found myself disappointed when I noticed the little interest for Zenyatta as a character and the lack of a 50k+ angst backstory fanfic, so I decided to write it myself.

I'd like to thank my friends Uume and Kirsten for their unwavering support and for listening me rant for hours about omnics and this fic in particular.

I am not sure whether this story will include actual romantic shipping, it depends whether there's interest for that. It would not be the focus even then as I want to explore Zenyatta's relationship with Mondatta and his period as an apprentice, then as a teacher on his own even before Genji's appearance, but if you're agreeable with it, maybe let me know. (the pairing would be Genji/Zenyatta).

This fanfic will have a lot of my personal headcanons, so I hope you will enjoy reading it! If you do, consider leaving kudos or comments, thank you! Happy new year!

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Rating: Mature for themes and later content.

Warnings: some violence mentions but nothing graphic.

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Sankhara

Chapter 01 – Kalyana mitta

The sound of water sloshing gently against the stones of the bridge was almost completely drowned out by the louder noise of human voices.

In this part of the city, the streets were narrow and slithery, edging lower towards the water's surface before sneaking upwards again, splitting into many smaller, invisible side alleys. Decorated statues and red paper lanterns seemed to be a common sight, as much as the carved figures of dragons that stretched from one side of the bridge to the other, teeth bared and mouths open wide.

On the left, trees planted in the middle of the water stream reached upwards towards the sky, roots protected by small mounds of soil and rocks, while on the right row after row of buildings, decorated with wooden balconies and ornate fences, offered him a peculiar and pleasant view.

With the sun slowly inching lower in the sky, tinging the clouds, the buildings and the stone pavement with a vivid orange hue, the city of Lijiang seemed to melt into something otherworldly.

Although the modern part of the city was alive and bubbling with people, it seemed like the area of the Old Town was the noisier one, more so as dawn approached. Lijiang attracted tourists from all over China –and just as many foreigners who travelled this far, sticking out like sore thumbs among the natives– and ever since the Lucheng Interstellar corporation had built its massive tower in the middle of the city, the tourists had split between the more traditional section, the Old Town, and the newer attractions in the modern districts. The Lijiang Tower was built near the local Night Market, which attracted its fair share of tourists due to the variety of foods it sold, while the Old Town had a good amount of bars where rowdier people would band together to drink and enjoy the view of the waterways, bridges chaining together the entire area like pearls on a beautiful collier.

If non-Chinese foreigners were not as unusual nowadays –unlike how things had been in the earlier decades of the 2000's– they were still noticeable in the city streets, especially in the Old Town district, and easily spotted from afar, but even less common was the sight of omnics, so one of them walking through the streets, his metallic body tinged orange under the setting sun, was enough to cause turmoil.

The years following the end of the Omnic War had brought a slow change, and most towns, especially in rural areas with little to no contact with technology, still lived under the impression that the less omnics around the best it would be for everybody, while bigger cities hosted a small, somewhat growing number of omnic population. Unfortunately, despite the stilted attempts to reconcile the ideas that omnic were no more a danger to humans, most people still looked at them with mistrust, and very few places around the world allowed robots to have rights, let alone considered them equal to human citizens.

Russia still had a high-aggression policy towards omnics, and while China varied greatly depending on the area, it still had a very low tolerance, to the point where even in cities like Lijiang they were offered little to no respect. Despite the advantages technology offered to life, few omnics could find ways to live normally, or be accepted. The rate of human-on-omnic violence was still far too high, and guards and local police officers appeared uncaring and unwilling to get involved.

In this state of unrest, it was not surprising that omnics who chose to stay had banded together and lived in lesser populated parts of the city, using numbers to ensure their continued survival, and it was a rare occurrence to spot them walking around in broad daylight… even less on their own.

The omnic was walking slowly down one of the main streets of Lijiang's Old Town, unmindful of the stares and the attention he was receiving. His footsteps kept a careful, even tempo, wooden sandals clacking against the stone pavement as he walked. He was wearing an unusual attire, a long pale tunic draped on one half of his body and loosely tied around his midsection that fluttered to the ground, heavy and covered with intricate geometric designs. The visible parts of his body were a washed out white, with a golden mouth piece and bolts that glinted in the sunlight, and there was an array of nine sensors flaring with blue lights on his forehead.

It was obvious the model was not a new one, the paint chipped off in some parts of the chest area and the back of his head, but it was just as obvious that he kept his parts in pristine condition.

Another striking detail was that the omnic was not wearing all of his outer plates; the protective covers that usually hid the circuits and wires from sight and kept them safe from the elements were absent, exposing the delicate circuitry underneath for all to see. It was unusual, but the humans peering at him did not truly understand what this meant –unfamiliar with omnics as most of them were, much of their knowledge was second-hand at best, and had more to do with what to do in case of a 'rabid omnic attack' than anything useful. As it was, the sight of delicate circuits was nothing if not perplexing, especially in an area where omnic violence was usually condoned.

As the omnic made his way down the street, ignoring the chattering that his passage caused, the tourists and the locals watched him go with a growing unease, unused to the sight of an omnic without explanation. It did not matter that the omnic looked uninterested and unassuming –it was still a jarring reminder of their existence, and it caused people to talk, curiosity mixing with uneasiness.

As the omnic approached one of the bigger bridges he seemed to pause for a split second, head tilted to the side as if to admire the carved animals stretching from one side of the bridge to the other.

The moment of contemplation only lasted for a few seconds before he moved again, quickly passing through the bridge and disappeared from sight behind the corner of a building, but the hushed, intrigued gossip swept through the area like a ripple in the water, people hesitating before finally looking away.

Lijiang's Old Town had been labelled as a World Heritage Site more than fifty years prior, carefully monitored and preserved by the Yunnan Prefecture and by UNESCO, and that meant a tighter security around the entire area, the influx of tourists attracting enough attention that the Prefecture had wanted to control the businesses and the establishments of the touristic area. Due to that, there were numerous patrols day and night, especially in the bar area, so the unnerving presence of a lone, suspicious omnic walking so brazenly through the city was bound to be noticed quickly and dealt with –either by police or through lesser 'legal' means.

With this knowledge keeping people from panicking just at the sight of an omnic, the tourists and the locals were able to relax and focus on gossiping, wondering what would happen to the omnic and if they would read about it the next day in the local news.

Soon enough, though, they lost interest –night was already approaching.

Tekhartha Mondatta had reached the outskirts of Lijiang earlier that afternoon.

It had not been his intention to stop by this city –it was big and touristic, and Mondatta had been trying to avoid such places, focusing on the smaller towns and the suburbs and rural settings that seemed to need his presence more– but he had found his footsteps headed this way, and before he could take notice of where he was going the sea of rooftops was already spread in front of him.

He had been taking a long, spinning road through the hills until then, seeing mostly wild nature, grass and trees for the past few days, so he found the sight of Lijiang pleasant, the expanse of dark rooftops stretching as far as the eye could see. It was a city that had managed, through time, to keep within a traditional core, despite the modern buildings and the tall Tower standing proudly above the rest, a skyscraper compared to the traditional tilt of the rooftops around it.

Mondatta had tilted his head in consideration, and as he had pondered whether to move forwards or take the long route around the city, a police car had passed by him, the driver casting him a suspicious look before disappearing past the first few houses.

Patiently considering what to do, Mondatta had almost turned around, and then…

There had been a flicker of something in the air, an electric sparkle of ions that tickled the back of his circuits like a feather, and Mondatta was familiar enough with this gentle, soft nudge not to follow what humans commonly called their sixth sense.

He had moved forwards, his feet bringing him down the dusty road and into the busy streets of Lijiang.

Despite his intentions, instead of sticking to the residential area or trying to locate the part of the city where omnics lived Mondatta found his feet taking him past the Night Market and the Garden, barely sparing a glance to the Lijiang Tower and the streets full of people, and into the Old Town.

The waterways and the bridges had been a welcome, pleasant sight for him, the beauty of the architecture of the city not lost on him as he paused every now and then to admire a particularly beautiful tree or archway, the sensors on his forehead flashing brightly in what passed for an omnic smile.

He had no real direction or destination, as Mondatta had no idea what had brought him to the city or what he would need to do there, but the lingering warmth of the Iris at the back of his mind was a familiar touch, and it reassured him that his presence there had a meaning that he would not question.

It was the constant nudge of the Iris, warm and golden and insistent, the reason why Mondatta had abandoned the Shambali monastery, months earlier, to start a new journey. The tranquil life at the monastery brought him great peace, but it did not help the omnics and the humans who suffered outside, and if he could not do his part to reach out to them, it would be a poor use of his enlightenment.

Although not many of the Shambali monks could reach within to touch the Iris, allowing it to flow through them to heighten their senses, those who could rarely reported the kind of intimate contact Mondatta had always felt with it. Whether it was a particular glitch of his matrix, or a testament of his own determination to change things since his awakening, he could not say. Perhaps, as it was, the Iris had simply picked a vessel, and all he could do was be its voice.

The receptors built on his neck sensed the air cooling down as the sun continued its slow descent in the sky, and Mondatta briefly considered finding a safe place to spend the night to recharge.

His calm pace brought him past another bridge as he continued his idle walk. The street in front of him opened up on both sides, wooden buildings covered with plants and a restaurant menu proudly displayed at his right; a boardwalk connected the two sides of the street, water sloshing quietly under the wooden planks, and Mondatta allowed himself another brief pause, eyes observing his surroundings.

As an omnic, the only need for nourishment he required was that to recharge his internal core, which could be done almost anywhere, and even without a charger present he could still regain power through natural, alternative means, but food had always attracted his interest for more than purely aesthetical reasons.

Humans required food as more than just a basic need –composition, preparation, variety… that kind of thing was always a fascinating subject.

Pondering over the bright images of local food printed on the menu board, surrounded by human voices talking and laughing with one another, Mondatta almost missed the soft sound of something heavy falling somewhere in his vicinity, but his sharp sensors picked the sound up and analysed it, subroutine processes categorizing the noise and sending an alert through his receptors and to his brain.

More noises, a chatter of human voices mixed with laughter, coming from the same direction, different from the rest of the noise, and he found himself focusing on it. The timber of the voices was not one of joy, though they were too far for Mondatta to distinguish what they were saying, and he recalibrated his auricular receptors to a higher setting, though all for nothing –the voices were too far.

Mondatta took a few steps in the direction of the noises almost on a whim, right sleeve fluttering as he brought both arms together in front of his chest, sensors whirring softly.

There was a narrow backstreet right behind the restaurant, unlit and empty. He could see bins full of trash and leftovers, some of them scattered on the ground, and if he had been a human the stench of rotten fish and fruits would have been overpowering, but as it was he could disable his receptors, isolating his brain from the stench. The wooden sandals he wore clacked softly against the ground, one sole hitting an empty can as he walked past it, the echoes of the sound rattling in the silence. Shadows hung longer, and the sensors in Mondatta's eyes adjusted his sight infinitesimally, bringing his surroundings back to a sharp contrast despite the setting sun. He did not pause nor hesitate as he walked further into the side street, sensors vibrating in anticipation.

Another noise, this time louder, followed by the sound of fizzling electronics and human laughter, clearer now, and closer. A mocking jeer, then an insult and more laughter. Mondatta's shoulders tensed up at that, the wires in his arms realigning in preparation for… something.

The narrow backstreet ended sharply with a corner, and Mondatta stepped into a small, constricting back alley, with tall brown walls on every side.

It took his optic sensors a fraction of a second to zoom on the cause of the noises, and when they did, he had to stop at the sight.

There were three humans on the other end of the alley, standing around something that Mondatta could not see from where he was, and they were all turned away from him, not having noticed his arrival yet. Two of the humans were laughing, the mocking bark of their laughter echoing from one side of the alley to the other, the sound amplified enough to sound ominous. Their clothes were modern, street ones, not unlike many of the humans Mondatta had passed by earlier during his walk, hair cut short as was common. By a quick estimate, they looked young, barely through their second decade of life.

The third human was taller than the others, and held himself with a different countenance, though all Mondatta could see of him was his back, and was dressed in a more traditional garb, the hem of his clothes sewn with golden thread.

Mondatta could not see their faces, but it was obvious they were focused on something in front of them, and they were mocking whatever it was, taunting it. Mondatta felt a twinge of disappointment hum into his core, the sight familiar to him enough that he could guess what he would see if he stepped closer.

He did not hesitate and moved forwards, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the continuous, raucous laughter of the humans' and by their taunts, which Mondatta could now hear too clearly –words full of distaste and mockery, jeers of superiority and half-barked slurs that caused Mondatta's auricular receptors to glitch in shock.

With the three humans' attention so focused in front of them, Mondatta's quiet footsteps brought him close enough that he could see what they were looking at, and then the twisted charge of static glitched into something deeper, and far less quiet.

Sprawled over half-ripped trash bags, body half submerged by leftovers, was an omnic. He looked battered and dirty, and though Mondatta could not say much about him, he could see that his model was newer than Mondatta's, though similar in make. By all intents and purposes, the omnic could not be older than a decade, perhaps even less than that. There were dents all over his upper body, with pieces of his chest plates broken or bent to expose the delicate wires underneath, and he was missing his mouth piece, the lower part of his face showing signs of burn marks and of a damaged voice box. Mondatta's optical sensors zoomed in on his hands, a flutter of unease when he realised the other omnic was missing at least two fingers from his right hand, most of the lower arm looking like it had been grinded into a pulp of metal and circuits.

The worst though were the legs. The wires and sensors connecting the legs from the knee down had been crudely cut and severed, and the remaining cables and circuits were poking through the back of his knees, wriggling as current ran through them, ending nowhere.

Mondatta's sensors buzzed and hummed, registering his own shock at the sight, pity and desolation thrumming through his chest as his processors assessed the overall health of his fellow omnic, subroutines keeping an eye on the three humans too, assessing their overall attention, heart-rate and other minor details.

There was no need for heightened senses to feel the satisfaction and pride radiating from the humans, and even Mondatta felt a wave of aching pain at the proof that they were the cause of his fellow omnic's pain, and not just bystanders who had happened to pass by.

One of them was holding something, but it was only when the humans realized there was someone else behind them and turned around, suddenly tense and wary, that Mondatta saw what it was –a small dao, drenched in what appeared to be slick, dark oil.

Mondatta felt another wave of pity fill his sensors, body aching in empathy –the omnic's voice box had been damaged so he would be unable to talk, probably on purpose, but he could still communicate through basic binary code and other sounds, and the continuous static sound coming from him, amplified as it was to Mondatta's auricular receptors, was not unlike a constant, agonized whimper.

The omnic was in obvious pain, but was still lucid.

At the sight of Mondatta's unassuming stance, the three humans seemed to relax. They had perhaps expected to be found by other humans, possibly by one of the police patrols, and quickly dismissed Mondatta as non-threatening due to his apparent submissive stance.

In truth, Mondatta was tall for an omnic of his built, a few of the parts he had replaced time after time belonging to newer, slightly bigger models, which made him look taller and lean. It was mostly his posture that seemed to convey a very different impression.

"Look, Jing-sheng, there's another one!" one of the younger men spoke up, eyes flickering to the man in traditional clothes before he returned his full attention to Mondatta, not wanting to look away. He spoke in a distinctive Huguang dialect, thick and heavy on his tongue.

"Do we get to play around with it, too?" the second man's voice was deeper, indicating he was older, or just pretending to be, and he had the same dialect as the first. He looked at Mondatta with barely concealed glee, and Mondatta allowed himself a soft, displeased hum. "I have plenty energy left for some more fun".

The third man, Jing-sheng, casually took a step back from the wounded omnic to turn around and face Mondatta. He was older than his two companions, with a fuzzy moustache above his lips, which were pulled into a grimace; unlike the other two, he did not appear pleased at the interruption, and yet Mondatta could feel the same distaste and anticipation in his stance, albeit concealed better.

With all three men turned to look at him, Mondatta's secondary scanners could focus on collecting more details about who he had in front of him; the clothes the younger men were wearing had dirty stains and spots that looked fresh, while Jing-sheng's appearance was pristine. He was standing on the side, almost as if wanting to keep separate from the other two, and it did not take a genius to declare him as the boss.

Mondatta would need to engage with him if he wanted to help that poor omnic.

Still, that would have to wait –Mondatta's main scans were returning worrisome results from his fellow omnic, so instead of speaking with the humans, Mondatta chose to send a quick inquiry to him, a soft whirring noise and a steady set of binary beeps barely loud enough to be heard by non-robotic ears.

The answer was a gasp of pain in the form of a burst of white noise, glitch sounds repeated without rhythm or pattern and followed by a clipped, pained plea for Mondatta to leave.

'Go,' the omnic pleaded, what was left of his outer sensors beeping hurriedly. 'Not worth it. Leave'.

To have to resort to basic vocabulary in binary meant the omnic's main processes were being shut down to preserve what was left of his matrix and circuit data, or perhaps that the pain receptors were frying what was left of it. Either way, Mondatta could tell there was not much time left.

Even then, part of Mondatta's operating circuits ached at the knowledge that the omnic was apparently more worried for Mondatta's safety than his own state of being.

The man called Jing-sheng shifted, distracting Mondatta and snapping his focus on him. "What are you staring at, robot? Know your place".

The man did not speak Chinese, which was surprising considering his two companions, but the local dialect Lijiangba. If Mondatta had to take a careful guess, he expected this was some sort of power show, but he did not know what it entailed, so he chose to ignore whatever undertones the man was conveying and instead replied in Mandarin.

"I would ask you what you intend to do now," he said, modulating his voice to be pleasant and even.

His reply was an ugly sneer, but Jing-sheng's tone remained oily polite. "I fail to see how that might be of any interest to you, omnic shit," he replied, and this time he used Mandarin as well, foregoing the dialect he had used before. The insult, delivered smoothly and without any particular inflection, was jarring enough that even the wounded omnic was startled.

With a panicked sound that glitched and fractured into static, the yet nameless omnic struggled to push himself up, trying to stand.

He managed to sit up, but then his fingerless hand slipped on the bags under him, upsetting his body enough that he slipped sideways and fell back down, the hit jarring the open wounds of his legs.

The pained wail that vibrated through his chest like a low hum and the sound of metal against stone attracted the attention of the two human goons, who instantly turned away from Mondatta to focus again on their victim.

"Stay down with the trash where you belong," the taller of the two barked out, lips pulled into a wide, pleased smirk, and he took a step forwards to tower over the omnic.

Mondatta tensed up, expecting the situation to escalate further, but Jing-sheng cleared his throat and his henchmen stopped to stare at him, openly uneasy.

Their behaviour was enough to reassure Mondatta that the obvious display was meant to show off his power to him, and he ended two minor subroutines in order to focus most of his sensors on Jing-sheng, though he still kept some of them running in case things went downhill.

It would not do to open himself to attack. There could still be a way to reason with them.

"You could find that turning away and leaving right now might be the best chance you have," Jing-sheng said. Mondatta's keen auricular receptors caught the teasing, mocking tone with no trouble. "I might find myself overly indulgent with a foreigner, even if it's omnic shit, if it knows its place and makes a hasty departure".

Mondatta tilted his head forwards, the shadows cast on his face giving him an appearance of desolation. "I must disagree," he said, and made a show of turning his head towards the other omnic. "It seems that, albeit unrelated to the matters at hand, I still am involved just by witnessing this unjustified aggression".

The two goons snorted at the same time, while Jing-sheng's only reaction was a thin stretch of his lips.

"I should have known you automats would band together, not enough circuits to know when to listen to your betters," the steely edge of his voice seemed to cut through the tense air like a sharp knife, and his Mandarin bled with the tilt of his local accent. "I guess like minds are brought together to learn a lesson of respect".

One of the goons cracked his knuckles, the other lifted both fists in a fighting pose, though both were merely attempting to show off, to intimidate him.

"It is not I who will require a lesson, I am sorry to say," Mondatta tilted his head forwards, voice filling with regret. "Humility may be harsh and bitter to taste, but it is a medicine most helpful for the soul".

The wounded omnic's whirrs and frantic binary beeping bled into a background noise as Mondatta's sensors turned sharp and attentive in preparation for what was to come. He had no intention to leave –none whatsoever.

'Please go– don't get hurt, not for me,' the incessant noise was almost annoying, and Mondatta sent the omnic a quiet, reassuring message, core humming in his chest.

'Steel your core and be at peace, for I will not leave you alone to suffer'.

He stepped forwards, knowing that his words would not be taken as a reassurance when the other omnic was in so much pain, and keeping his sensors focused on the men he moved to kneel at his side.

Jing-sheng did not move, nor did his goons, but they were all staring at him with identical smirks, open and leering. They did not stop him or try to attack, and Mondatta knew they were merely waiting for him to assess first-hand the sort of damage they could cause.

No matter.

His sensors whirred and focused new subroutines and processes on scanning the omnic's body, seeking a model number in order to understand the specifics for his body and the extent of the injuries.

From this close, Mondatta's optical sensors could see the damage in detail, and it led to a pained flare through his thoracic circuits, his core filling with sadness.

The omnic's model was indeed newer than Mondatta, though without checking for the exact specifics he would be unable to say the exact age, but it was probably closer to a single digit number than not. Circuits and wires were poking free from the junctures, plates bent or absent, and the situation with his legs was horrid –unless Mondatta's estimation was incorrect, it would require disassembly and substituting the legs with new ones for the omnic to walk again, and even then it might be hard if the connectors and wires were fried and unusable. Changing the entirety of his lower body would be impossible, not without the help of a proper technician who understood omnic technology. The arms were in better conditions, though the missing fingers were leaking oil and clear lubricant all over the ground and the trash bags.

Even worse, Mondatta could see that the omnic did not have much battery left. The glowing dots on his forehead were flickering in and out, their blue faded and weak, and if he shut down now, he might not reboot at all –not with the levels of pain he was in. If his circuits and core stopped working, he would cease to function and not even a clean reset would…

'Hurts,' the omnic beeped at him. Even if binary code could not express emotions, not the way modulating voices could, the hesitant flickering of his forehead sensors was enough to convey how tired he was.

'Please conserve your strength,' he messaged back, preferring to keep their conversation as private as possible, not wanting to make the humans aware of what they were saying. 'Can you end the processes for your pain receptors?'

A negative answer, then the omnic's binary fizzed into white noise, too tired to find the right code to explain the situation. He slumped back against the trash bags, visibly trying to gather enough energy to send another string of messages to him. 'Fried circuits,' he computed, then brought his wounded hand, missing three fingers, to touch where his mouth piece had been. The motion was unsteady, his arm shaking.

Mondatta's sensors flickered as he understood what that meant. There was a dull, unpleasant throb in the back of his mind, and Mondatta knew what it was, and did not like it. Anger was useless and it only stole focus from a situation. He brushed his mind against the ever present Iris, allowing its warmth to soothe him and centre his soul again, chasing away the anger until it was gone.

The omnic's next message startled him out of his connection. 'Go now. Leave'.

A hand touched his arm, the contact hesitant and weak. The omnic was still attempting to push him away, even now.

In such a situation, damaged to this point, and yet still more worried about dragging someone else down with him… this spoke volumes of the omnic's integrity. Mondatta resisted the urge to dab into the Iris fully and use what little he could to soothe this omnic's pain, because it was not time yet.

He had to face the humans and at least attempt to reason with them.

There was a flash of red in a corner of his optical sensors and a warning buzzed through his brain, and Mondatta reacted quickly, standing in a smooth motion and narrowly avoiding a projectile that hit the ground where he had been moments before.

He twisted to turn towards the three men, and found them perhaps too close to him. One of the goons was bouncing a stone in one hand, throwing it in the air and catching it, uncaring to be seen.

Mondatta brought both hands to the front of his chest once again.

"Why did you harm him?" he asked, refusing to show the turmoil he felt.

Jing-sheng snorted, and shrugged. "I don't see why I should explain things to you, though I guess that's how you things are, without clear, simple orders you just won't function properly. He did not do what he is supposed to do –serve and shut up. He needed discipline, and he's not the only one". He turned to look at his two underlings, and made a sharp motion with his fist, thumb spread on the side.

It did not escape Mondatta's notice that the man had returned to speaking his local dialect –the meaning was obvious.

Still, he would not back down if there was a chance for things to go smoothly without violence.

"That is not reason enough to harm someone," he replied, straightening his back.

"I grow tired of this," Jing-sheng shook his head, appearing disappointed and bored. "This has taken too long, and it wouldn't do to make me displeased".

"There is no reason for any more violence," Mondatta spoke again, tone steely but still hoping to dissuade the situation before it could turn even worse.

There was a flicker, and the two men flanking Jing-sheng took a step forwards, clearly spurred on by his words. The one holding the dao lifted it towards Mondatta, a leer on his face, while the other fiddled with a black, compact square, and Mondatta noticed a flicker of electricity on one of its sides. The burn marks on the wounded omnic's face and his garbled, frantic attempts to speak about his fried circuits suddenly made sense, and Mondatta stiffened.

They had used a Taser, knowing exactly what one could do to an omnic's circuitry.

There would be no discussion possible with them.

Mondatta brought both hands in front of him, clasped together in what appeared to be a submissive, relaxed gesture, and focused his processors outwards, the fans in his chest starting up in preparation with a soft whirr.

Ever since becoming part of the Shambali order, ever since he had merged for the first time with the Iris, accepting the truth of it into himself, Mondatta had never raised his hand on another, be it human or omnic.

It was not a matter of taking a vow, or refusing violence –it was simply his choice, one he continued to make with every flicker of golden warmth he could feel whenever he reached to touch the Iris, and what kept him going whenever he spoke for equality to those who would listen, and yet…

But of course, that did not mean he could not protect himself, or those in need.

The two men in front of him took a step towards him, ready to engage, and he shifted in a defensive pose, still outwardly relaxed and appearing at ease, his conscious reaching out to the Iris, not touching it yet but ready to embrace it fully, and then–

And then, breaking the tension, the wounded omnic surprised him by pushing himself forwards, uncaring for his own battered, damaged state.

Using only his arms as leverage, his legs dead weight behind him, the omnic dragged himself out of the corner behind him, fingers digging into the stones of the ground with a grating sound, and moved forwards with resilience that broke Mondatta's sharp focus instantly, snapping him out of his trance, the Iris pushed back and away from him.

Mondatta stared down at him, the sensors on his forehead flashing brighter to show his shock, following him as the omnic fought with his failing body to keep advancing, fingers straining to drag the rest of his body forwards.

For a fleeting second, Mondatta and the humans stared down at him, frozen in place, until it became obvious that the wounded omnic was not trying to escape, but was in fact trying to place himself between Mondatta and the three men.

The omnic, in spite of his state, was trying to protect him.

'Go,' was the growled message that the omnic sent to Mondatta, his own forehead sensors flaring brightly for a split second, fuelled by some residual pit of energy inside him. 'Leave!'

What happened next was just as unexpected; the omnic lifted his head high, broken faceplate and cracks revealing the delicate circuits underneath, and stared right ahead –not at the approaching henchmen but at Jing-sheng, shadows falling on his dented face and playing with his expression, turning it darker, intense, and…

Mondatta felt it, the flare against the back of his mind, a second-hand warmth passing by him, and then the Iris stretched out, coming from the centre of the wounded omnic's chest. It was nothing more than a flicker, like a broken light attempting to come to life, but it was there.

Processors faltering in shock, Mondatta stepped back, arms falling slack at his sides.

The Iris glowed golden like liquid lava, a thin thread he would not have noticed if he had not been so close to touching it himself.

Shining through this battered omnic, through his defiance and his desire to protect Mondatta from ending up like him, the Iris burned to life for a single instant, and the omnic visibly arched up with the tiny sparkle of extra energy, standing up on wobbly knees and unsteady hands closing into fists, burning with something bright that only Mondatta could see and facing the humans who were still advancing, blind and ignorant to the truth he had glimpsed–

It lasted a mere section, then the connection was severed.

Batteries depleted and consciousness faltering, the omnic shuttered and powered down, slumping on the ground.

The light returned to dormancy, but the connection had been there, and Mondatta felt a wave of fondness for the nameless omnic who had fought within an inch of death to keep a stranger out of danger despite himself.

In front of him, the men paused their advance, stared down at the unresponsive omnic, then one of the two lashed out and kicked him, making his body roll away like dead weight, face turned upwards.

Mondatta stepped forwards, hands still clasped together in front of his chest, and stared at the men in front of him, expression steely.

"You will cease, and desist," he said with conviction.

His answer was a loud snort, and then Mondatta found himself under attack.

The alley was not big, but there was enough space around him that he could step away from his fallen comrade and distance himself from the incoming assault, and so he did, arms returning to their resting position in front of his chest.

Sensors flared up, wires tensing in preparation, fans whirring on once again–

The first man attacked him with no finesse, barrelling towards him with one arm stretched towards him, a sparkle of electricity on the end of his Taser.

Mondatta stepped to the side at the last possible second, his vest fluttering as he avoided the attack, and felt the buzz of the electricity pass inches away from his face plate.

"Good at running away huh?" the man hissed, and tried to follow Mondatta's movements with his arm.

Mondatta brought one hand up, flexing his fingers, and pressed the palm flat against the man's wrist, accompanying the motion while shifting his barycentre down, and stretched his sensors out as he moved, twisting down and away from the attack.

The man toppled forwards, his own impetus making him stumble away from Mondatta, though he regained his balance quickly and turned to stare at him, assurance melting away to be replaced with disdain and rage.

"You fucking–"

Mondatta paid him no mind.

He did not need the Iris, not for this –he had honed his skills through patience and exercise, his body responding perfectly to his orders in a way a human would only through intense years of dedication.

This time the attack came from both sides –the man behind him attacked him, hoping to land a hit while Mondatta was not looking, while the second man raised his dao in the air and tried to use it to slash at him.

Mondatta was prepared, sensors sharp and picking up every detail.

He accepted the incoming attack and deflected the dao with the side of his left arm, the blade hitting the sturdy metal cover and ricocheting away from it slightly, enough that Mondatta could lift his wrist slightly and grab the edge of the weapon.

His hands were not as strong as an unit built for attack and assault, or protected from damage like a defense war unit would be, so Mondatta allowed the lightest contact with the Iris, the warm light passing through his body, glistening gold leaking through his fingers, protecting him from the blade's sharp edge, and then tightened his hold.

The dao broke neatly in two, the upper part falling on the ground with a soft clang.

Mondatta did not even look at it, already twisting away, his hand still holding onto the remaining piece of dao. The human attached to it was tugged along, too shocked by the sight of his weapon breaking to stop himself. With nothing more than a gentle push with his other hand, Mondatta sent him on the ground, face meeting the stones with a painful crunch.

There was little time for assessing the man's pain, not that Mondatta would have allowed himself to feel grief for that, as he was merely protecting himself from an attack.

He turned around and received the second man's attack by swinging the handle of the sword towards him, knocking the Taser to the side; he lunged forwards, drawing an arch with his other arm to grab the man's wrist, used his speed against him and sent him along to stumble forwards.

The man toppled over some scattered trash bags and went down with a stream of curses, slipping in the trash and the oil residues, head barely missing the wall by inches.

Mondatta kept his receptors trained on both men but turned to face Jing-sheng, noticing the narrowed eyes and the way he had backed away from them, either to keep out of the way or to protect himself.

The sensors trained on reading the air and the smells detected a spike of heat and sweat on the man, and Mondatta's connection with the Iris made him more apt at reading the signals, so despite Jing-sheng's tense yet carefully blank expression, Mondatta could detect a growing wariness in him, bordering on fear.

To test it, he took a step forwards.

Jing-sheng's face tightened in an ugly scowl, and his body shifted back, careful to maintain the same distance from Mondatta.

Wary. Angry. Disgusted, and afraid.

Mondatta turned to stare at the two other men, who were both standing. The one who had fallen on his face had a bloody nose and a murderous expression, the other was holding his wrist with a pained look, face marred with hatred.

With a tiny, soft whirr and a sigh, Mondatta allowed his tendril with the Iris to fade, and dropped the blade on the ground.

His scans revealed that the omnic on the ground was alive but hibernating, and it would take a while to see whether his processes were functional and unharmed afterwards, though Mondatta was secure in his knowledge that he would be fine –the Iris had travelled through him, somehow, touching his soul. There was a connection there, and he would not be lost.

Still, he needed immediate help, which Mondatta could not offer until the offenders were dealt with.

Straightening his back, Mondatta placed both hands behind his back, tilting his head forwards.

"You should consider letting the matter go," he said, tone even. The idea of this crime going unpunished was like a wound in his core, and Mondatta felt grief at the thought of a fellow omnic treated like this and his assailants ending scot free afterwards, but he had to consider what was more important, and helping the omnic was currently his top priority.

Jing-sheng's eyes darted from Mondatta to the powered down omnic, assessing the possibility of getting out of this situation with his dignity intact and possibly with two omnics turned into scrap metal.

In the end, the man's pride won over his reluctance. He barked another order to his two henchmen, who were more than happy to rush at Mondatta again, overflowing with anger and killing intent.

The Taser sparkled with charge, the man aiming it to the base of his neck, while the other man brought up his fist, ready to retort with violence.

Mondatta sighed –a tiny, soft sound full of static, then brought both hands to his sides in a languid, sweeping motion, and embraced the Iris.

The back alley became bathed in golden light, spilling directly out of Mondatta's body as he became one with the Iris, allowing its flow to burst out of his junctures and seams.

The men smashed into him at high speed, blinded by the abrupt light, the Taser hitting Mondatta's body before the electricity running through it fizzled into nothing, unable to touch or harm him. The other man's fist hit his shoulder and ricocheted away as if meeting a slippery, unyielding barrier, the touch bringing Mondatta no pain but causing the man to yell out in fright before he backed away.

Mondatta felt the Iris' warmth fill him, time trickling down to a stop, burning rays of molten gold exploding from his back. If the men had been paying attention instead of shrieking in panic and scrambling away, they would have seen the golden rays turn into mechanical arms, a manifestation of the Iris itself through Mondatta's willing body.

They did not –they rejected the warmth, feeling nothing but waves of fear and abject horror at the sight of what they could not explain.

Screaming loudly, they stumbled away, and as Mondatta dropped the contact, having reached his physical and mental limit, the Iris washed out from him. The light that had bathed the alley disappeared, and it seemed as if his surroundings turned darker with its absence.

Auricular sensors ringing softly, Mondatta took a step forwards, looking at the three men.

He did not speak, and there would have been no need –Jing-sheng was already running away without turning back, clothes fluttering behind him, his mind blank and panicked. The other two, similarly affected, dropped their weapons and fled the alley, pushing each other and stumbling in their haste to leave as soon as possible.

Mondatta sighed again, a soft whirr as the vents on his body expelled hot air in an attempt to regulate his temperature after the exertion. He had not noticed how dark it was already, having been too busy focusing on the three humans and his fellow omnic, but he noticed now that his optical sensors had switched to nocturnal vision.

As Mondatta reassessed the light source and his vision returned sharply to full functionality, the remnants of the Iris' soft touch still thrumming through his processors and circuits, he noticed the sensors on the other omnic's forehead were now pulsating softly, whereas before they had gone completely blank.

The Iris had touched him in this state, probably boosting his battery a little bit.

With a soft, tired sight, he moved to the omnic's side, and without further ado he gently lifted his heavy, batted body in his arms and then hoisted him on his back.

The darkness would be a good aid in leaving the city behind, especially now that Mondatta needed the quiet in order to recharge and recover.

Mondatta did not look back as he left the alley, finding no trace of the men nearby, and no one around to notice him leaving, either.

Mondatta was roused from his meditation by a soft sound coming from his left.

The noise disrupted his concentration, thoughts flooding back to his mind one by one as Mondatta slowly refocused all his circuits to the outwards world, processors whirring to work once again, and he reactivated his optical sensors, which flickered on and adjusted to the light.

It was morning, and his inner clock ticked to indicate that it was one hour past sunrise. The condense felt cold against his outer coating, tiny droplets rolling down his arms and seeping into his vest, and he slowly rolled his shoulders and swiftly stood up.

Leaving Lijiang had been easier than he had expected, thanks to the darkness and how little consideration the people there had of an omnic carrying another like him. Mondatta had briefly entertained the idea of finding the omnic quarters and see if anyone could help, but he deemed it better to just leave.

He had no idea who the man called Jing-sheng was, nor what his reach could be, but Mondatta had no delusions about retaliation. The man had been shamed in front of two of his underlings, and it would take him no time to gather up his courage once more and seek out retribution, and Mondatta did not want to drag more omnics down with him.

No, the best course of action was to leave and perform basic maintenance away from Lijiang, and then carry the wounded omnic to another nearby town to fix him up.

Transcending had helped, though Mondatta had been secure in his knowledge that his unconscious companion would not cease to function, not when he could touch the Iris on his own. Thinking about it still filled his core with wonder.

Mondatta had gathered together many omnics who had wanted to try and do what he could, but very few had managed the feat of touching the Iris, even after years of practice and strict meditation, and other than him, accepting so much of the Iris within them was something none had been able to do yet.

To see an omnic reach out without even noticing… this would be interesting, and Mondatta couldn't help the anticipation building within his core, wanting to speak at length with the omnic and learn what he could about him.

Travelling during the night was easier for omnics than for humans, but the quiet lands outside of Lijiang were unsuited for travelling on feet for too long, and eventually Mondatta had stopped to recharge, far enough from the city that he could rest without worry.

His companion had not woken up despite his brisk pace, and Mondatta had been grateful –he had no idea how much pain jostling his legs would bring him, even after the little help the Iris had offered him. Hibernating was good, recovering and recharging would help until they were able to find someone who could do some basic repairs.

Now, after an entire night of recharging, it seemed that Mondatta was not the only one who had benefited from the rest.

Still, instead of looking at his companion, waiting for him to power up completely and run his own diagnostics, Mondatta found his attention stolen by the sight in front of him.

He had picked a spot under a tree, reasoning with himself that if there was no shelter available then nature would be the next best option, and had used part of his vest to cover the other omnic's body, protecting his visible circuits from the cold air and wrapping and cauterizing the open wires of his legs as best as he could before entering his own sleep cycle, so he had paid little attention to his surroundings then.

With the sun peeking from the mountains and his optical vision once again set for daylight, Mondatta found himself taken by the beauty of nature around him, lush grass as far as the eye could see, trees and mountains and a clear sky above.

Cities were beautiful on their own right, but there was something special about a morning spent in the middle of nowhere, with no pollution, no noise other than that of the wind and some birds chirping in the distance, no skyscrapers poking through anywhere.

"It is a beautiful morning," he murmured in a reverent tone.

Nature never ceased to be an astounding gift.

There was no answer from the other omnic, though Mondatta knew he was awake now, so he finally turned his optical sensors away from the view and back to his companion, only to find him shaking, trembling hands coming to cover his face.

The omnic was curled up on himself, wrapped in Mondatta's vest, and the whirring noise coming from his core was choked and clipped, vents working overtime to compensate a shift of temperature.

Immediately, worry wiped his earlier calm away, and he knelt down on the grass, one hand hovering on the other omnic's shoulder but not touching him yet. "Are you alright?"

The shaking of the omnic was intense, and Mondatta felt the loss of his vocal box and mouth piece keenly when his answer was a monotone binary code beeping, a simple phrase repeated over and over. 'It is,' he beeped, stilted and corrupted by white noise. 'It is'.

Still, Mondatta could almost hear the echo of what his voice could be, and the emotion it was meant to convey.

He pressed one hand on the omnic's shoulder, and felt the tremors of his chassis underneath his fingers, a soft vibration and a hum.

"You are fine now," he murmured, his own core humming along, hoping to bring his companion some peace. "Let there be peace within your mind, you are safe".

The words had their desired effect, because the omnic slowly stopped shaking, his fans slowing down until they could be barely heard, and he uncovered his face, pressing his fingerless hand on top of Mondatta's.

'Thank… you,' he beeped at him, hand tightening its grip on top of his own. 'How…?'

"Those men were scared away, and I carried you with me. We are far from Lijiang," Mondatta recited the coordinates of their position, his sensors having determined roughly where they were. It was not a tool he used often, as he preferred to live without knowing exactly where he was in the world, but he knew it would reassure his companion of his safety. "Far enough, my dear".

The other omnic nodded, apparently appeased, and Mondatta sat down at his side, already running more diagnostics. His battery levels were higher, but due to the extensive damage done to his body they had not been replenished even after so many hours of hibernation; still, he was awake and responsive, and that was good enough for the moment.

Reassured that there was no danger, Mondatta focused on the next important thing.

"What is your name?" he asked.

The omnic had been distracted again, face turned to the sight of the lands around them, but when he heard Mondatta speak he turned his attention to him once again, though he seemed to hesitate, head tilted down to his lap.

Instead of replying, he ran his other hand over the vest covering him, and on the strands Mondatta had used to tie around his knees.

The silence stretched on.

"Do you not have one?" Mondatta changed tactics, then motioned for the omnic to shuffle forwards, so that he could have a look at the matrix model that was carved on his back, beneath the wires poking from his midsection.

'I…' the omnic hesitated again, but did bend forwards. 'I do'.

Mondatta brushed his fingers along the omnic's spine, following the wires to where they disappeared inside the chassis and pushed them to the side, locating the model number and ran a different sort of diagnostics, this time researching his data bank for the information he had on the model. He kept quiet and did not push for an answer, as his question had been sensitive, and he was aware there was more to it than reluctance.

The omnic model number gave Mondatta more than just the exact specifics for the parts and the tech level needed to fix his broken parts, and the software used to run his processors and most of his sensors. It also told him exactly when he had been produced and from which Omnium.

So young –in human terms this omnic would have been a child, and it was fortuitous that omnic development did not require an actual childhood, but merely an introduction to the world through learning and adapting and becoming self-aware in the span of days, weeks at most.

Even then, it was a young model, less than five years old from his first steps out of an Omnium who had been about to be destroyed in a back alley, who had the ability to touch the Iris, even if he could not recognise it.

"If you feel better, I would prefer to start moving early," Mondatta decided to let the matter rest, for the moment. If it came down to it, he would address the omnic by his model number, until he became comfortable enough to share his name with him. "Will you be fine?"

Startled at being addressed again without further questions about his name, the omnic looked up, a soft hiss as his vents released some steam.

'Legs do not hurt as much today,' he admitted, his binary beeping somewhat steadier. '… thank you'.

Mondatta's array sensors flashed brightly in a smile and he nodded. There would be time later to talk more, probe and learn, but they had to move now. "I will try not to jostle you too hard, but you might have to endure the pain until we reach another city".

The omnic fumbled a bit when Mondatta offered him his back, but accepted the help regardless, as he would not be able to walk on his own, not anymore. He stumbled forwards and grabbed on Mondatta's shoulders with his hands, the right one unsteady with only three fingers left on it, but the grip was still strong enough to hold onto him as Mondatta stood back up, balance shifting to accommodate the extra weight.

Mondatta paused when he felt his body stiffen, legs dangling uselessly against his sides.

"Is this alright?"

A soft whirring noise, then a steady affirmative. With a hum, Mondatta started to walk, aligning his compass with the direction that would lead them to the closest city.

For a while, there was silence between them. Mondatta knew the other omnic was not asleep, as he could feel him shift slightly every time his legs were jostled the wrong way, though he never complained or uttered a sound of pain, but it was apparent that neither of them were up for chit-chat.

The road ahead of him was mostly straight, and Mondatta had a good view of the rolling hills that disappeared into the distance, far ahead, and contented himself with observing his surroundings, sensors picking up the wind's strength and the temperatures slowly raising as the sun started to warm his metal, chasing away the cold of the night.

It was easy to get lost in the motions, even when he carefully walked to avoid causing his companion more harm, so when the other spoke up, it took Mondatta by surprise.

'Tekhartha'.

Mondatta blinked, and for a moment he idly wondered how the omnic had learned of his name –his visage was one of many, and while he had been shown more than once on the holo-vision and on national broadcasts, the situation in China was still bordering on difficult, and most transmissions about omnic propaganda were censored, heavily edited or denied altogether.

"I'm sorry?" he asked, more out of idle surprise than anything.

So, it was even more surprising when after another short hesitation, the omnic continued, binary bleeding any emotion he might have felt out of his tone, 'my… name. It's Tekhartha'.

The body against his back was tense, as if expecting some sort of negative retribution, but Mondatta was too busy being surprised at the name choice to pay much notice of it. Of all the names he might have expected, this omnic had chosen the same given name Mondatta had picked for himself.

It was not common, by any means. For an omnic to choose that name…

"Oh," the whisper left his lips almost as an afterthought, the hum of his core processor growing louder for a beat.

'I…' there was something else, left unsaid by the omnic… by Tekhartha, but Mondatta could feel the reticence and the hesitation, his body inching away from where he was holding onto Mondatta's shoulders as if expecting a rejection, so he reached out blindly with one hand to pat the hands still holding onto him.

"It is a fine name," he replied, diplomatically, and felt a lingering buzz of amusement in the back of his mind, and a faint embarrassment.

'It is his name,' the admission was delivered plainly through binary code, but Mondatta could hear Tekhartha's fans kicking up a fuss in embarrassment, and his words did not register for a few more seconds before Mondatta realised that yes, Tekhartha had indeed picked that name from him but… he did not know who he was. Well. 'I thought it could be mine. A promise. But I might have done wrong. I did not intend to steal, or cheapen it'.

Mondatta had known that his message had travelled far –China was, all things considered, rather close to Shambali, and the perfect fertile soil for his words to take root, with how little rights omnic had on this land– but there was still something powerful in being reminded that somewhere there were omnics who looked up at him and fought for their own rights thanks to his voice speaking out. Knowing they were not alone because someone, somewhere, was fighting the same battles they were. Speaking out, stepping up to show the world that omnics deserved to be seen as something more than mere tools.

It was humbling, in a way, the same way touching the Iris and remembering how little they mattered, how tiny they were compared to the universe around them was. It also made Mondatta feel stronger, reassured.

"Names cannot be stolen. You chose that name for yourself, and it is yours, too. If you look up to where you want to be, and the things you wish to change, no one can take your choice away from you," he reached out once again to touch the battered, ruined hand clasping his shoulder, reminder of Tekhartha's strength, of his attempt to get Mondatta away from the alley. Strength, and fire. "The meaning you have for your own name… it already fits you, dear one".

A soft, fumbling whirr of fans, and another discharge of steam, and Mondatta worried for a moment that overheating would deplete more of Tekhartha's battery.

'Thank you,' again, Tekhartha thanked him, and Mondatta could hear his beeping simmer down to a stutter.

"You should power down some more," he suggested quietly. "There is still a long way until we find help, and you still need to keep your battery usage down".

He felt Tekhartha nod against the back of his neck, and he expected to hear the noises of processes powering down. Instead, Tekhartha's core hummed stronger.

'What is your name?'

A pause, then Mondatta's own vents expelled steam all of sudden, his embarrassment spiking up at the realisation that he would need to tell Tekhartha that he was talking with the omnic whose name he had picked as his own. Against his back, Tekhartha was startled, the steam passing too close to his hammered face, the heat sending flares of pain down the open circuits of his missing mouth piece.

"I'm sorry!" Mondatta's fans started up in a late attempt to keep his heat levels down, embarrassment higher now that it had caused his companion harm, and Tekhartha beeped in confusion and weariness, not sure what was wrong but attempting to reassure Mondatta that he hadn't been hurt too much.

'What…?'

"Please, don't concern yourself," Mondatta brought one hand to his face in a motion he had learned from humans, embarrassment where his expression would not show any of it.

Looking up at the path stretching out in front of him, Mondatta's core whirred loudly, the gentle touch of the Iris in his mind and Tekhartha secured on his back.

With no hesitation, he walked on, the rhythmic pace of his footsteps allowing him to calm his embarrassment down.

"My name is Tekhartha Mondatta," he finally said, looking ahead.

The soft spluttering from Tekhartha on his back was met with a serene, heartfelt chuckle.

…–…–…–…–…–…

Sankhara (Pali): Mental or physical formation

Kalyana mitta (Pali): Spiritual friend. In the Theravada Buddhist meditation tradition, teachers are often referred to as spiritual friends.

Trivia:

*I headcanon omnics as not having given names on their own at first, only using their identification numbers, but they can choose their own names once they have reached self-awareness (this is not enlightenment. just the moment when they become aware they exist as a being and start referring to themselves as such).

*At first I chose Lijiang through a simple google search, and only after having written 4k of this chapter I found out it was part of Overwatch's canon settings already, so I went back and edited to include that info.

*I see Mondatta as a pacifist, but even pacifists can know how to protect themselves, so he knows basic martial arts.

*This chapter I kept the point of view to Mondatta for stylistic purposes (until Zenyatta offered his name, he remained a nameless omnic, but choosing to name himself for the first time to someone else settled his first step towards his character)

*On the subject of Zenyatta's name, his choice of picking Tekhartha as given name from Mondatta was done because he feels inspired by the figure of an omnic who wants equality for everyone and a hope to be able to learn to be someone who can help others too. this will be touched upon in the next chapter. The second part of his name will make an appearance soon too, I promise.