THE WANDERER

He heard footsteps from behind his back. They were coming closer at rapid pace, but they still seemed far away. He wanted to look back but was unable to do so. His eyes were focused on the weapons rack at his feet. A katana and its scabbard were exposed there. The hilt and the knob of the weapon were gold but the blade, although shiny, was chipped. Blood ran from its point and droplets fell one by one to the ground. With each impact, the stranger's step felt much closer but he couldn't look over his shoulder. Above the weapons rack lay a large parchment with four kanji painted in black ink. He knew the meaning of each one: dragon's head, snake's tail. However, the parchment wasn't intact, a scar had split it on its left side, staining it with red ink stains. Unless it was blood.

The drops kept dripping from the blade as he felt the presence in his back. Frozen in contemplation, he heard the hoarse voice thundering in the darkness:

"No sign of him. Nowhere."

"That's not possible," he replied breathlessly. "He should be here."

"We've questioned everyone," said the hoarse voice. "He hasn't stepped foot here for several months."

The blood was dripping down, creating a red pool at his feet, the katana was no longer on the rack but in his hand.

"Look again. It must have been hiding somewhere in the estate."

"It' s already done. The information gathered is also formal. He left the clan."

The red stains on the parchment began to spread, absorbing the black ink of the kanji until they completely disappeared. His fingers tightened on the katana's pommel whose blade was stained dark red. He turned and saw a shape resembling a large shadow.

"You did your part perfectly. It's all over." the hoarse voice announced.

With these words, the shadow disappeared, blown by the wind to reveal a body on the ground. It stood above the bruised thing, bathed in a scarlet pool. From the floor, blood seemed to be rising on his blade. But he was able to hear a faint breathing, with groans of agony. He was still alive. Despite the cuts and gashes on his torso, his broken body and his mutilated face, he was still clinging to life. The arrogance in his eyes had given way to pity.

His fingers grasped firmly the katana as he raised his blade.

"What I am about to do, I am doing it for the clan's honour."

Then he cut down his weapon.

Out of breath, Genji woke up with a start. It was only a dream, a bad dream. He lay down, trying to recover his calm and chase those dark dreams from his mind. His breathing gradually returned to normal. His arms and fingers were stiff, yet he tried to stretch his limbs. The daylight was blinding him and he put his hand to his face to protect his eyes. While his mind was still clouded by his troubled sleep, he heard a song.

He rubs his eyes. When he took his hands away, he saw birds hopping in front of him. Two small round birds, with brown and grey feathers, orange beaks and yellow necks, were looking for food, pecking and snooping in every nook and cranny, every crack in the ground. And they were singing. It was a cheerful melody that they exchanged between each flapping of their wings as they walked across the roof, which seemed to suit this dawn in its last moments, as the sun broke through at the top of the mountains.

Genji leaned against the wall, wedging his travel bag - which he used as a pillow - into his lower back. From the roof where he had taken refuge for the night, he had a wide view over the valley of Harāēkō and the small Nepalese town of the same name. The town, built on the hillside of a mountain, bordered a river that grew into a small lake on which Harāēkō had been grafted for its activities. The sunrise lights gave silvery reflections to the lake's waters and to the river's current, which meandered through the plains and the rocky, deforested hills where the yaks grazed. At the foot of the banks, mountains of eternal snow rose, immense and immaculate, swearing with the brown lands of the valley where there were a few scattered patches of white. The sun had just passed the highest peak of the mountain range. From this height, it seemed that the star could be reachable, that one could touch the sky and dominate the clouds.

Genji sensed a gust of wind blowing over his face. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs, and the cold slightly bit his cheeks. It reminded him of Switzerland and all the sunrises he had seen. Like the country, the Swiss mountains were beautiful, a peaceful place with lush vegetation and mountains full of life. But the Swiss peaks were nothing compared to the titans on the roof of the world. Bathed in clouds and overlooking the valley, the Himalayan mountains were wild and inhospitable, and the high peaks were a constant reminder of the hostility of this environment. Yet, as Genji watched them, he could not help but notice that this inaccessibility made these mountains fascinating. Many explorers and alpinists had tried to climb these peaks at great risk for their lives. Some had succeeded, others had not. The mountain is cruel, what it takes, it keeps. But Genji understood the feeling that animated those who wanted to brave nature and cold to be at the top of the highest point on the planet. Climbing Everest was one of the things he would have liked to do in the past. However, it was no longer one of his priorities.

He retrieved his travel bag and opened it in search for food. He took out a cereal bar, tore the packaging and bit into it. Breakfast would be frugal, like everything else over the past few weeks. While chewing, Genji took this opportunity to rummage through the bag's contents and take an inventory of his food supplies. He fell on his mask, the piece of armour that covered his eyes and mouth, and delicately placed it on his travel coat right next to him, under which his katana and scabbard also lay. It had been a long time since he had worn this visor. He explored the bottom of the bag to touch a surprising object: an Overwatch emergency beacon. Genji had forgotten that he had kept this device with the organisation's logo. It was a device given to each group member to be activated only in case of extreme emergency, and which could receive messages or vital information. However, he never had the opportunity to use it.

Nevertheless, he put it back in the bottom of the bag. Overwatch had been a part of his life, he had to keep something from those years in the organisation. Shortly after the destruction of the headquarters, he had left in a hurry, fearing that his past would catch up with him. Overwatch had protected him for the past few years, but now that the organisation had been dissolved, there was nothing to stop Genji Shimada from being arrested to face justice and answer for his crimes. The organisation had many enemies but Blackwatch had many more. He would have wished it were otherwise, but he would have been a burden to the other members.

Once the search was over, he found that he had indeed eaten his last bar, he needed to go and buy some more before he could go back on the road. Genji took a large swig of water from his canteen and put on his coat, which he closed to hide the armour that made up a large part of his body. He readjusted the collar of the garment, fixed his scabbard and katana to his back, put the shoulder strap of the bag over his shoulder and moved closer to the edge of the roof. Below, the city was already very lively. Repulsive trucks and cars drove through the steep and narrow streets, while stalls and shops were opened and pedestrians crowded the pavements. Genji chose to walk down an adjoining alleyway in order to not attract too much attention. Swift as a cat, he landed between two dumpsters without any noise and instead of joining the busy street, he chose to go in the opposite direction, entering the small streets of the city. The fewer people he came across, the better it would be for him.

At a junction, he came to a small courtyard, where he found a dozen children around a hooded figure sitting on a door sill.

"What story do you want to hear today?" asked the silhouette in a husky voice.

"The one about the two friends and the Mountain!"

"The Snow Princess."

"The elephant and the gazelle!"

"I've already told you these stories yesterday." replied the silhouette.

"I want to hear it again!"

"You tell the story so well."

"Can we have a new story?"

Faced with the infatuation of the brats, the figure raised its hand to impose calm. Genji then noticed that it was made of chromed steel. It was not a human being.

"Jagga is right." he said in his still husky voice. "I think you deserve a new story: the story of the Wolf, the Eagle and the Bear."

The children didn't object and remained seated, huddled around the storyteller, who cleared his throat before beginning his story.

"This story took place in a valley far, far away. A valley full of life, with coniferous forests, plains and hills, which rubbed shoulders with the mountains and the snow from the summits."

"We don't have a lot of forests here." said a young girl.

"Hush!" scolded another.

"You're right, Cara." replied the storyteller with a gentle laugh. "Harāēkō doesn't have much forest, but in other valleys, the mountain slopes are dotted with trees among which many animals live. Just as in the distant valley of my story, where animals thrived under the rule of great warriors: the Wolf, the Eagle and the Bear. There were three of them and each one had his own domain of predilection as well as his territory. The Eagle reigned over the high summits and the skies, he flew higher than any beast in the valley and nobody escaped his sharp eyes. The Wolf was agile and fast, he commanded an imposing pack and ruled over the plains and hills, while the Bear, wise and strong, ruled the mountains and its surrounding forests, knowing every hidden corner and every cave. Yet they frequently fought each other, battling for supremacy over the valley. Their strength was equal and none of them managed to supplant the other two. The victims of those endless conflicts were the other animals of the valley who saw their offspring and their elders die during their clashes."

The children listened to the storyteller's words with attention and admiration, immerged in his story, and Genji was also surprised that he wanted to stay and listen as well.

- One day, the valley's creatures gathered together to reason with the Wolf, the Eagle and the Bear. They went to speak to them, one after the other, to explain that their quarrels had to stop, that the valley was suffering from their clashes and that they should join forces to protect all their domains from threats from outside the valley. The Wolf and the Eagle were sceptical about the idea of this alliance, both of them fearing that the other warriors would betray him as soon as he turned his back. However, the Bear supported the proposal of the animals and worked to get the Eagle and the Wolf to cooperate. She had seen the devastation they had caused and she wanted peace and prosperity to returned to these lands. Thanks to her, the Wolf and the Eagle came to an agreement and the three warriors formed a union that would last for years.

The storyteller suddenly stopped and Genji saw him raise his head revealing what was hidden under his hood. A wide band of cloth concealed the top of his face while the lower part was made of chrome steel that reflected the daylight.

"Why don't you come closer if you want to listen the story?" the omnic appealed to him in a friendly tone.

Genji saw the children looking at him and he saw faces writhing in fear at his unusual appearance. He was about to walk away when his curiosity got the better of him. To avoid scaring the audience, he walked slowly through the courtyard, under the watchful eyes of the children and their storyteller, to reach a section of wall where he leaned back in silence to hear the rest of the story.

"Let's resume." said the omnic, recovering the full attention of his audience. "Thereafter, for years, the Bear, the Wolf and the Eagle cooperated to protect the valley from the dangers of the outside world and settled the internal conflicts and disputes that broke out within the valley. Surprisingly, the three warriors who had fought each other on countless occasions became true comrades-in-arms and genuine friends. And exactly as the animals expected, the valley prospered under the watchful eye of these three warriors, who thwarted every threat against it. They drove back the vultures that wanted to create their own kingdom in the mountains, chased away the elephant herd that ravaged the plains and the hills, and when the dreaded White Tiger ventured into the valley's forests with their combined forces, they brought him down."

"Wow!" cried a child.

"Tigers are stronger than wolves."

"Yeah, but aren't bears stronger than tigers?"

"Shhh!" scolded again the little girl.

The boys lowered their heads and the storyteller calmly resumed, keeping his serene tone:

"However, every time winter came, the Bear had to take refuge in her cave to hibernate, leaving the valley protected by the Wolf and the Eagle. Both swore to their friend that she had nothing to fear and that when she woke up in spring, she would find the valley unchanged. The Wolf and the Eagle were totally different from each other, true opposites. The wolf had black hair while the eagle had white feathers. The Eagle was noble and upright while the Wolf was coarse and cunning. Yet every spring, when the Bear awoke, she discovered that the two never betrayed their promises and worked together, putting aside their differences, to preserve their land and the animals that lived there. But one day, when the snow disappeared across the plains and the trees recovered their leaves and flowers, which meant the end of winter, the Bear did not wake up. The Wolf and the Eagle waited for her at the entrance of her cave, waiting for her return but nothing came out. For days they waited with anxiety and anguish, but the Bear did not reappear. And then the unthinkable happened. The Eagle accused the Wolf of having killed the Bear while she was sleeping so that he could take over her territory. For his part, the Wolf claimed that the Eagle had killed the Bear by making her eat the dangerous berries that grew on the tallest fir trees of the valley. The two warriors tore each other apart, breaking the ancient union they had formed with the Bear. Then each one returned to his domain and raised his troops to put an end to his rival."

A child stifled a shout of surprise and the storyteller stopped his tale.

"What's going on, Dara? Are you afraid?" he asked.

"The Bear is dead." she replied half-voiced as her eyes moistened.

"Shhh!" repeated the girl who wanted to constantly impose silence. "We'll never get the rest!"

"Don't worry, Chitō. replied the omnic in her husky voice. The rest of the story is coming, and you don't have to feel sad for the Bear, Dara. Because she wasn't dead but was still in a deep sleep. When she finally woke up, she found that she had been asleep for far too long and that the valley was on the brink of war. The armies of the Wolf and the Eagle were about to face each other in the ultimate battle for the domination of the valley. Even the other animals were reluctant to obey them. The years of peace had brought all the other animals in the valley closer together and friendships had been forged. But all this was shattered when the armies of the Eagle and the Wolf met on the battlefield. The Bear ran through the forest at full speed, hoping to make it in time to reason with her companions. As the two armies were about to collide, the Bear appeared on the battlefield, to everyone's surprise. She brought the Wolf and the Eagle to their senses, explaining that their friendship prevailed over ancient resentments and that this battle would only lead to the ruin of all. The Wolf and the Eagle listened to the Bear, for she was the wisest of them all, and then they apologised to each other and embraced as brothers. The whole valley cheered the return of the three warriors, and this last incident marked the end of their timeless struggle, and the animals lived in perfect harmony for ever in this prosperous valley."

The storyteller paused for a moment as the children were stunned before one of them broke the silence with a round of applause.

"You see, Dara." said the storyteller. "The tale has a happy ending."

The little girl nodded in agreement while rubbing her eyes. The applause suddenly fell silent when the door, on which the storyteller was leaning, opened to make way for a woman with a broom, which she immediately used on the storyteller.

"Get out of here! How many times do we have to tell you not to come over here?" she cried, hitting the omnic with her broom.

The omnic crashed to the ground at the children's feet, who got up in one bound. Genji stiffened but did not intervene.

"Mum!"

"Don't you have something to do, Chitō?" complained her mother. "Your father is waiting for you, you should be gone by now."

The little girl rushed through the alley as if she was the next victim of her mother's broom. Meanwhile, the omnic was still biting the dust. Genji saw him groping for something on the floor with his hands until he grabbed a walking stick and leaned on it to get up.

"All of you should be at school or at work too!" the woman ordered, calling out to the children.

Without warning, the windows of the houses in the inner courtyard opened, revealing worried parents.

"Jagga! Cara! Move away from that thing and go home!" said a man pointing at the storyteller.

"I told you not to hang around with that piece of junk anymore!"

"Leave our kids alone and piss off!"

One by one, the children dispersed, leaving the omnic storyteller to suffer the quibbles of the inhabitants. Genji felt that it was also time for him to leave. The omnicc, supported by his stick, turned towards the little black-haired girl who was pulling at his cape, the very last one of his audience.

"You will come back tomorrow?" whispered little Dara. "I want you to tell the story of the two bears."

"I'll be here tomorrow." nodded the omnic. "Now go. Your mother is calling you."

The little one wiped her nose with the sleeve of her jacket and ran into one of the houses in the courtyard. Genji saw the omnic slowly walk away to an alley when the mother with the broom spoke to him:

"The next time we see you come near our kids, I promise you'll end up in the scrap yard, in bits and pieces, just like the rest from your kind."

"I mean no harm to Chitō and the other children, ma'am." he replied in his husky voice. "I just tell them stories."

"Fuck off!"

Genji felt it was really time to escape but it was at that precise moment that the woman with the broom noticed him.

"You too! Go away!" she bawled. "We don't want things like you here!"

The door slammed shut as did the windows of the other residents, even though Genji felt that eyes were still watching them behind the windows. This interlude had gone on for too long and he walked down the alley, following the footsteps of the storyteller who was walking slowly, leaning on his walking stick. As he passed the omnic, the latter asked him:

"Did you like the story?"

"I already heard this story." replied Genji, looking back at the omnic. "My nursemaid used to tell it to me when I was a child."

His travel cape concealed his metal body as did the thick black band that covered most of his face. From closer, Genji found the omnic intriguing, even rather suspicious. It was no wonder that parents would not accept that their children might be around such a dubious individual.

"Your nursemaid knew how to choose her stories." added the storyteller.

"Why did you change the end of the story?" asked Genji.

The omnic nodded his head and went on his way before finally answering:

"I prefer happy endings because they are the ones that children like and give them a bit of hope. And everyone needs a little bit of hope in this world."

Upon hearing these words, Genji watched the omnic storyteller disappear down an alleyway and then went on his way again. The end of the tale of the Wolf, the Eagle and the Bear was very different in his memories. The Bear had not come in time to reason with her old comrades-in-arms. She arrived after the battle, when the only survivors were the Wolf and the Eagle, both wounded, in the midst of the death and desolation they had caused. Out of desperation and anger, the Bear then turned on her injured companions and killed them both before returning to her cave to plunge into a sleep from which she would never awaken.

Genji followed the main roads to reach the southern part of the city which should lead him to his destination. Trucks and old levibuses followed one another on the road. The small town was the gateway for those who wanted to connect China and India. The traffic was constant. The day before, Genji had found it difficult to find sleep disturbed by the constant snoring and roaring of the vehicles that passed through the city. At least this had the advantage of pointing him in the right direction. He was wandering the pavements looking for a convenience store, a shop, a mini-market where he could buy food for the rest of his journey.

He seemed to attract all the attention, equipped with his katana, his bag, and his travel coat which gave him this stilted appearance. Not to mention his helmet that framed his face. Genji could see the discreet glances and suspicious eyes of the passers-by he came across on his way. On his trip from Switzerland to Nepal, he realised that his appearance made people distrustful. It was certainly not because of the weapon he constantly carried on his back. Many of the countries he had crossed had emerged greatly weakened from the Omnic Crisis. In these countries, it was not strange to see armed militias ensuring the protection of citizens and cities. Yet, as he passed through, Genji recalled the fearful faces, the dismayed looks, the omnipresent tensions and the undisguised threats against him. It was not his weapon that attracted attention, but his body, which had no human aspect.

He had been trying hard to hide it by buying this coat, but even this artifice did not conceal his prosthetic legs and the mechanical aspect of his hands, his arms and the helmet that covered his skull. By removing his visor, he hoped to reassure his surroundings but all those who crossed his path could only see his scarred face. And for this they would still have to look him in the eyes. At headquarters, his appearance hadn't been a problem, it hadn't been raised for a long time, and with the hindsight of his months of travel, Genji realised that this had convinced him that he had regained a certain normality in his life. But now that he had completely detached himself from the organisation, he had bitterly realised that this was not the case. His months of loneliness had brought him back to his singular condition, and at times he had allowed himself to regret his sudden departure. His nights were long and full of bad dreams, and during his many periods of insomnia, he thought back to his team with nostalgia and to the many late-night conversations he had with a valuable colleague at headquarters and the awful coffee she made. Perhaps that was what he missed the most.

After passing several blocks, Genji noticed that he was approaching the outskirts of the city. Buildings were becoming scarce to make way for garages, depots and warehouses, and further down the road, an energy station. Two truck drivers filled up their vehicles at self-service machines before continuing on their endless road through the mountains and down to China. Genji passed by the truckers discreetly and entered the shop adjacent to the station. With a light tinkling announcing his entrance into the shop, he looked through the shelves in search of cereal bars and other travel food.

The place reminded him of the konbini from his native country. Small supermarkets that were more neighbourhood grocery shops than supermarkets, and this shop fit this image well. A pile of shelves in columns separated by narrow aisles, where you could find all the non-perishable products, surrounded along the walls by refrigerated cupboards where the fresh products were displayed. Genji remarked that the cashier was busy behind his counter, which he had not noticed. Further on, an old woman was looking at the label of a cleaning product and on the other side of the shop, three teenagers were stuck in front of the fresh beer shelf.

Genji walked into one of the shelves looking at the packaging, the food or boxes that evoked something in his mind. He had to find provisions that he could keep for many days and that would be pleasant to eat. The multivitamin bars were a good choice for much of the trip but he was getting tired of them. Yet they were found everywhere, whether in local grocery shops, large supermarkets or gas station shops like this one. Moreover, they were easy to transport and were more than enough to feed him, although Genji would have liked to vary his diet. Nevertheless, he was always limited by the choice of products from the places he visited. After a few minutes looking around the corners of each section of the shop, he had to resign himself to taking cereal bars once again. On the way to the cashier, Genji also saw a packet of chocolate bars and cans of Nano Cola. Tempted, he hesitated for a few seconds before picking them up and headed for the cash desk.

He placed his articles on the counter and the cashier finally noticed him. Genji saw him widen his eyes and stood still in amazement. He was now accustomed to this kind of reaction. However, the astonishment of the man at the cashier quickly disappeared.

"We don't serve the things like you here!"

"What do you mean, 'things like me'?" Genji asked curtly.

The cashier scowled and turned red.

"Don't pretend you don't know, stupid machine! Get out of here! I don't want stuff like you in my shop."

With a quick gesture, the cashier took the bundles of bars and the Nano Cola and dragged them over the counter out of Genji's reach. The latter stopped him by grabbing his arm.

"I have enough money to pay," he replied. "I'll pay for all this and I'll leave your shop."

"You dare to put your filthy robot hands on me?"

The anger was twisting the man's face. With an abrupt movement, he freed himself from Genji's grip and pulled a gun from under his desk to point it at him. Genji didn't pretend to be surprised and stood still as the man walked around the counter, keeping him in his sights. At least he was trying to. Genji saw him trembling.

"I'm not an omnic." he says aloud to make sure the man understands. "I am a human like you."

"Yeah! Kiss my ass! You omnic scum!" he scolded as he shuddered in fear. "I wouldn't listen to your bullshit! Get out of my shop or you'll end up with your friends in the dump!"

"It doesn't have to be like this." said Genji, annoyed. "I'll take these products. I'll pay you and I'll leave."

"No! You get the fuck out now! The machines like you took my brother and my mother from me! And you think I'm going to let you leave with goods from my shop like nothing's happened!"

"I've already told you, I'm not an omnic."

"Bullshit!" cried the owner as the barrel of his gun was pointed at the head of his recalcitrant client.

Genji tried to remain calm, but his patience had its limits.

"I don't care, I'm going to shoot. Nobody will miss you, you're a cheap machine and machines just end up as scrap metal."

Genji grabbed the owner's wrist and with great pressure he made him drop his gun before placing his arm on the counter. He screamed in pain and his legs swept across the floor like the legs of a disarticulated puppet as Genji tightened his grip on his wrist.

"Know that when you pull out a gun, you have to be ready to use it." Genji replied dryly. "Making death threats instead of pulling the trigger is more likely to get you killed. Even cheap machines know that."

It was so close to the man's face that he could see his eyes filling with tears and his face turning pale and twisted with dread. His whole body shuddered with fear and he thought he heard pleas coming out of his throat. Genji's hand tightened its grip on the owner's wrist, and a groan of pain came out of it.

He was interrupted, however, by an object he received to the right of his face, which shattered into several pieces of glass pouring a cold, alcoholic liquid on his cheeks. He released the man's wrist and turned around. The three teenagers in the beer section were facing him. Two of them had grabbed broomsticks and were about to use them, while the third was preparing to throw another bottle of beer at him.

"Hey, did you hear what he said?" cried the one with the beer. "Now you get the fuck out of here!"

On the desk, the cashier had not moved and was sobbing while holding his wrist. Genji stood still for a few seconds, watching the three teenagers. He noticed that behind them the old woman had taken refuge, just as frightened as the cashier. It was at this precise moment that Genji realised that he had unconsciously carried his hand behind his back, ready to grab the hilt of his sword. With his index finger he touched the knob of the katana. A second too late, he would have drawn.

"Are you deaf or what! Get the fuck out of here!" said a teenager with a broom.

Genji relaxed his fingers, then his arm and lowered it back to his side. The three teenagers and the old woman couldn't take their eyes off him as the shop owner continued to weep at half voice.

"I'm leaving."

Genji tried to calm down and to control his anger. His coat and bag were soaked with beer and he smelled the liquid against the skin of his face. He had to find a place where he could wash it off. He had no business being here anyway. On the other side of the road, beyond other houses and meadows, he could see the silvery reflections of the lake. Quickly he crossed the road under the horns of trucks and cars and then went down into the valley, towards the water.

As he walked towards the lake, his steps took him away from the city. He left the concrete streets for the dry grass fields and reached the gravel banks of the lake. He placed his bag on a flat rock and took off his travel coat before entering the water. He stopped when it reached his knees. Genji could feel the liquid's resistance as his legs entered the lake, but his senses tricked him. He couldn't tell if the water was icy, warm or hot. He had become accustomed to living normally with his prosthetic legs but in return he had lost some of his senses.

Genji placed his hands shaped like a cup and plunged them into the lake. He wished he could feel the water caressing his palms, but he was only able to notice the presence of the liquid in his hand. His brain was functioning, his mind was still sharp but his body was completely beyond him. But could he still consider it as his body? He had lost his legs and his right arm. His left arm had been preserved by Overwatch surgeons, however, in order to ensure the proper functioning of his other prosthetic parts, it had been modified with implants, tendons and artificial tissues so that it was almost impossible to dissociate it from the right arm prosthesis. He could only blame himself: he had agreed to undergo those long and painful operations as well as the tedious months of re-education. He had yearned for the opportunity to walk again, but he had greatly underestimated the price he would pay.

Overwatch had taken care of maintaining his prostheses and optimising them as much as possible for his comfort and to enable him to regain his former physical abilities. At that time, the organisation surely had an idea in mind by saving his life. After all, they knew who he was in his former days and what he was capable of. Reyes knew this and he had clearly been able to use his skills to their fullest. Genji had done his part of the bargain and had supported Blackwatch until it was laid off. Then, following the most recent improvements and optimizations of his prostheses, he had received this " armor ", this grey shell, more discreet, more resistant but which seemed to have made him more machine than man.

He brought his hands close to his face, ready to spray himself with water, anticipating the future contact of the liquid with his skin. Genji lingered nevertheless. The smell and the taste of beer on his face awakened distant memories. He thought of the coolness of the glass in his palm, the foam on his lips and the smell of malt in his nostrils. He recalled the thunderous laughter, the clear sound of the toasting glasses and the melodies sung in unison. He remembered the fine, silky skirts of the hostesses, their powerful, refined scents and the sweet, fruity taste of their lips. He could remember the endless caresses in the night, his fingers moving along the curves, the breathtaking whispers and the shared pleasures. Genji sprayed himself with water. It was icy. Then he started a second time to rinse his face and make all traces of the alcoholic liquid disappear. He looked down at his reflection on the surface of the lake. Those memories belonged to someone else, someone who had disappeared years ago. The one he observed on the surface of the water was scarred and his gaze extinguished. His helmet obscured his features and enclosed his face. Was he still Genji Shimada, or just what was left of him?

A loud noise struck him on his back and he looked back, on guard. Not far from him, the omnic storyteller stood on the bank. Genji saw him put down his walking stick on the gravel and remove his hood and the long coat he was wearing.

"I feel like you're following me." Genji called out to him as the omnic took off his patched up chino.

The storyteller didn't react immediately, but instead placed his trousers on the shore, well out of the water's reach.

"Perhaps it's you who's following me?" said the omnic in his rasping voice.

Genji watched the omnic completely undress. Although the omnics did not know about modesty, he thought he could discern a certain restraint in the storyteller's gait. For an omnic, there was nothing special about him, he resembled so many others that Genji had encountered. What did he have to hide under all those layers of clothing? He saw him enter the water, with a slow but sure step, totally exposed, the sun hitting his chromed steel plates with its rays. Nevertheless, he was still wearing his wide headband that covered his head.

"The lake is not big enough for you to leave me alone?" Genji annoyed.

"This little corner of the lake is my bathing area." the omnic answered serenely. "It's rather you who doesn't seem to belong here."

"The omnics like to splash around now? It's a new whim?"

"No, I don't think so." said the storyteller as he passed him. "I believe it's simply my own whim."

Genji watched him sink deeper into the lake until the water level reached his shoulders. The omnic detached the headband from his head, wet it before wringing it out and attaching it to his arm. Genji could then see his features. The top of what could be called his head had been crushed, creating a metallic deformity. If this omnic had been fashioned with human features, then they had disappeared under the crushed steel.

"It's very strange. This is the first time that someone has ever witnessed my bathing."

Genji understood this as the omnic's interjection at his address to leave him alone. He sprinkled himself with water one last time and went back to the bank to fill his canteen. Meanwhile, he watched the storyteller take a few steps in the water, his hands scouring the surface of the waves to create ripples and waves. This strangely evoked something of Genji. He acted like a toddler discovering water games.

When the omnic came out of the water, he could distinguish more clearly the twisted and crushed steel from his head. The contrast between his shiny, polished chin and the top of his crushed, almost falling apart skull was striking. Genji watched him fumbling around on the ground looking for his belongings and finally realised what was so obvious.

"You're wondering what happened to me, aren't you?" asked the omnic.

Caught in the act, Genji did not answer and the storyteller did not seem to mind his silence.

"I got this stigma after an unfortunate encounter on my way to Kathmandu. Fortunately, it only destroyed my visual sensors and my voice modulator was simply damaged."

He spread his coat over the gravel and sat cross-legged on it. The omnic raised his head towards the mountains and the sun.

"What have you done to deserve such injuries from men?" finally asked Genji.

"I didn't say it was humans who inflicted me those marks."

"You won't make me believe otherwise. Omnics don't attack each other."

The storyteller turned his crushed face towards him. Although he knew that the visual sensors were damaged under the twisted steel, Genji felt a strange sensation.

"You would be surprised to learn what the omnics can do to each other..."

After this gloomy sentence, the omnic again aimed his head towards the sun.

"Do you often tell stories to children?" inquired Genji as he settled down on the flat rock where he had pushed aside his bag.

"Very often. I'm an itinerant storyteller, it's my vocation. I travel around these lands and I stop in every village, in every town to tell my stories."

"And you received those wounds because of a bad audience?"

"No, no. Bad audiences are not as violent." the omnic seemed to laugh.

This omnic was definitely very confusing.

"This is the second time we've met this morning and I still don't know your name." remarked the storyteller. "I intend to take the first step. My name is Duran."

"Genji."

"Nice to meet you, Mister Genji."

"Genji will suffice."

"Understood. My activity obliges me to ask you if you don't know any interesting stories that you could pass on to me."

Genji remembered his nursemaids, who looked after him and his brother when they were children, and the stories they told them. But everything was so far away, it all came back in bits and pieces in a disorderly and imprecise way.

"Sorry, but I'm much better at listening than telling stories." he said.

"What a shame." sighed Duran." I don't often have the opportunity to talk to adults. It's hard to obtain stories from children. They tend to mix things up too much and then it's up to me to put all the elements together to create real stories. However, sometimes their imagination allows me to envision and create new stories, which is extremely hard work but in the end it is terribly satisfying."

"The children seem to like you."

"Above all, I hope they like my stories."

Something in her husky and damaged voice evoked serenity and tranquility. Perhaps it was his tone or phrasing but it intrigued Genji.

"Most of their parents are a little reluctant to let me tell them tales. But in other parts of this country I have seen mothers and fathers and grandparents joining them in the audience."

What did he just say?

"Was it before or after they did this to you?" Genji inquired.

"Long after. I've had this scar for years. I don't know exactly when I got it. It doesn't matter to me anymore."

The omnic paused. The sun was now far away from the peaks and was shining on the valley. The lake shone with silvery reflections just like Duran's chrome steel.

"You speak so lightly of what was done to you." Genji replied. "Why hide them under a blindfold if it doesn't matter?"

Duran untied the blindfold from his arm and emitted a small laugh.

"This headband is not to hide these marks." he replied, showing his broken face. "Unfortunately, I've found that it tends to frighten children. The blindfold is not for me but for others and I need to meet others so I can tell my stories. Would you prefer that I put my blindfold back on, Genji?"

"No, that' s not necessary."

"Those wounds belong to the past." explained Duran as he put the blindfold on the floor. "I have accepted his scars and I don't blame the people who afflicted me. They had their reasons. Do you know this region, Genji?"

"No, this is the first time I have visited Nepal."

"Nepal was unfortunately not spared by the Omnic Crisis. Towards the end of the conflict, units of omnics came up from the plains of Western China to join other contingents in India. Nepal and its army were unable to deal with this threat and the country paid a heavy price. Cities were torched and even the remotest villages did not escape destruction. It is said that Kathmandu burned for days. When the black smoke had cleared, the survivors could see that everything was ashes and desolation. Even the great stupas had been wiped out. The city was rebuilt afterwards, but it would never be the same again. The dead were countless."

Genji must have recognised that he had a certain gift for telling stories. However, it was certainly not the kind of story that he should tell the children.

"Were you there?" asked Genji. "Did you take part in these things?"

Duran nodded.

"I don't know. If I was there, I don't remember anything about it. And if I wasn't, then I may have been involved in other exactions elsewhere. I didn't awaken until much later, when the Crisis was over. Everything I know about the war was either told to me or recalled to me."

"That explains why you are the first omnic I've come across in this country." Genji said.

"The omnics are not very popular with the people of this region and I understand them."

"And yet you tell stories to children under their parents' windows. I don't know if you are brave or foolish."

"Maybe I'm both." laughs Duran in his hoarse voice.

Suddenly, silence fell between them. A powerful breeze swept across the lake and its surroundings, causing the waves to ripple under the force of the breeze. Genji felt the wind caressing his face and took a deep breath, before breaking the silence:

"What made you become a travelling storyteller, Duran?"

The teller didn't answer immediately and touched his chin with a pensive look.

"That's a very broad question you're asking me. I'll simply tell you that I wanted to show humans that we're not so very different. My people have done a lot of harm to this country and I know the same is true all over the world. Unlike many omnics, I did not want to hide from humans and their anger. I wanted to face it. I wanted to confront their resentment so that they could understand that I was not like the omnics who had destroyed their countries. I tried to convince them, to persuade them by going through the towns of the region but it was not very conclusive."

Duran put his hand on his crushed forehead.

"So I took a different approach." he said. "Long before the Crisis, many children across this country were forced to work at a very young age to support their families. The lucky ones still went to school, but the others had to work hard in the fields, in the mountains or in factories. These children work so hard that they no longer have any free time as if they had already become grown-up. So I thought maybe there was a way to lighten their burden and allow them to dream a little. So I remembered the tales and fables I had read in the past and began my activities as a travelling storyteller. It wasn't easy at first but my persistence now tends to pay off. As I travel, in each town or village I pass through, I gain more and more spectators. After several days in a village, I leave for a new place and a few months later, when I return, the children are delighted to find me again and I return to them with new stories gleaned here and there. The welcome isn't always perfect but it's getting better and better. From the omnic intruder, I have become the wandering storyteller."

"And this life suits you?" Genji asked.

"Yes. I'm very happy about it. I love telling these tales, legends and fables. I touch many more people with my stories than with inflammatory speeches. Children call me by my first name and some parents have given me old clothes that they no longer use. In a pass far from here, an elderly woman from a farm shared old stories with me that she got from her grandmother about the mountain, the river, the snow, the fire, the moon and the sun. And I wish these children would share and tell my stories to those around them because if I can't talk to the adults, I hope to be able to talk to their children. That's what I discovered, Genji. Exchange is amazing: there are no losers, everyone is a winner. And that's what a travelling storyteller is, for everything he receives, he gives just as much."

In front of all the omnic's candour, Genji couldn't help but let out a laugh.

"Maybe you can only talk to children because you are a child yourself."

"Who knows?" replied Duran. "I may be the same age as many of them."

The wind whistled over the plains, bending the dry grasses. Silence settled again, only disturbed by the yaks' distant complaints.

"I'm too used to monopolising speech. And you Genji? What brings you to these regions?" Duran asked.

Taken by surprise, he didn't know what to say to his interlocutor. For the first time in a while, he was surprised to ask himself the question. In any case, Genji had no reason to lie to him, just as he had no reason to tell him the truth.

"I'm going home." he finally said.

"Oh! And where did you come from?"

"From Japan."

"It's very far from here but according to what I've been told it's a beautiful country. I would like to be able to visit it one day."

"It is." Genji pursued. "It's been a long time since I've been there."

"Why did you leave?"

Because there wasn't a place for him anymore? Because the memories were too bitter and the wounds too deep? Because the country was too tied to a life he was trying to forget? And yet it was to Japan where he was returning.

"I had my reasons." he answered.

Duran did not persevere in his search for information and Genji regretted having unwittingly ended the conversation.

"Forgive me, Mister Genji." began Duran. "I do not wish to interfere in matters that do not concern me. But I can see that you are troubled."

Surprised by the omnic's affirmation, Genji remained speechless for a moment but did not let himself be destabilised.

"How can you tell? Something also surprises me, this is the second time you say "see" and yet you can't rest on your vision if what you told me is true. Are you playing a trick on me or have you not told me everything?"

Duran responded with a rasping laugh that came out of his voice modulator, his metal torso rising with every burst.

"I haven't lied to you, Genji." he replied simply. "I'm sorry, but it's a bad habit of mine to use the term 'see' when it's not exactly the case. As for the rest, let's say that I have managed to discern your trouble by other means: the tone of your voice, your pensive silences and by what you emanate."

"What do you mean by that?"

Duran stopped for a few moments and then put his hand on his chin to take a pensive posture.

"I don't think you've heard this story..."

"Enough with your stories." Genji was impatient. "I'm not a child to whom you can tell your fables."

"Calm now." Duran resumed serenely. "Let me finish. You are not supposed to be unaware that in the aftermath of the Crisis, many omnics gathered in isolated communities, far away from human activities. I come from one of them. My community gathered in an isolated place abandonned by man, an old monastery in the middle of the mountains. However, the monks who lived there had left a lot of knowledge behind. We were just awakened omnics, children in your eyes, and we learned. We read, we listened, we studied the theological and philosophical teachings that the monks had left us and we exchanged and debated these theories then we applied them through meditation and rigorous work. And this is how we discovered the Iris."

"The Iris?"

"Yes, the Iris. A supreme and universal entity that binds all the beings of the planet that live under its gaze." Duran repeated solemnly.

"Is this another one of your fairy tales?" mocked Genji quite angrily. "It entertains your children, but not me."

"It's not a fairy tale." Duran replied, this time more insistent. "It's natural for you to find it strange, but I and my people have really outgrown our condition, thanks to the Iris. How could I otherwise have known that you were not only human?"

Duran took him by surprise and Genji was careful not to show it even though he felt a deaf anger rising inside him.

"What are you implying?" he said curtly.

"I had no intention of harming you, Genji." Duran replied calmly. "Let's just say that as soon as we met there with the children, I felt that you were different. Even without my visual sensors, through the Iris, I perceive my environment and I see things that the human eye or the device cannot discern. I see your prosthetic arms and legs in all their artificiality, as well as your body under armour, your lungs, skin, nose, mouth and eyes in all their organics. And by the Iris, I also perceive the trouble and sorrow that dwells within your heart. I feel this shadow upon you Genji, a shadow that surrounds you and under it I perceive a light. It always shines and pierces the darkness, but the shadow is always present and threatens to suffocate the light."

Genji remained inert, his eyes immersed in the chromium steel of Duran's face which sent his own reflection back to him. His image seemed blurred and indecipherable which could disappear at the slightest burst of wind.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"It's useless." Genji reassured him. "You're right. I'm lost and I didn't dare to admit it to myself."

Genji felt a gentle gust of wind on his face and took a deep breath as his attention wandered across the expanse of the lake. No one was waiting for him in Japan. What had gone through his mind to think that he still had a future in his homeland? His clan had betrayed him and he had betrayed them in return. His old friends probably hated him and his mentors would want his head on a spike. As for his brother, wherever he was, he had no idea what he would do if he had him face to face. Something rumbled within him at this thought, a devouring and cruel beast taking over his body. He made it disappear from his mind, remembering the memory of his father. What would he have suggested to him today if he had still been alive?

"Not all those who wander are lost." Duran said with his kindly tone. "What did you expect to get when you returned home?"

"I don't know. I was hoping to find a past I had left behind, but you can't relive the past. This life no longer belongs to me since I lost my arms and legs."

Perhaps he would have found someone in Japan who could further optimise his prostheses and make him look human again. But this had a price and his means were limited. He could have put his abilities at the disposal of someone else. A voice from the depths of his memory reminded him that: " mercenary work is unworthy of a Shimada ". Overwatch had been able to use his abilities to their best advantage, others could do so. He still had a good knowledge of the Japanese underworld and could offer his services to the highest bidder. But was he ready to return to this world? The people in this world had to obey and so he had to be prepared to bend to any order. Even the most barbaric ones.

"You said that your vocation was to be a storyteller." announced Genji bitterly. "My vocation was to become a killer and today it is surely the only thing I excel at."

"Was it with this sword that you killed?"

Duran had even seen that. Genji grasped the hilt of the sword and with a slow gesture he brought it out of its sheath to observe it. This blade "Ryū Ichimonji" had been at his side for years. He had carried it during his happy days and kept it during his darkest years. It had borne his anger and sorrow as well as his determination. But what could it be used nowadays? Overwatch was no more. All the members had returned to their former lives, which was impossible for him. What did it have to offer to others? Since his childhood, he had been trained to become a tool of destruction, a death machine. Genji remembered parts of the stories he was told as a child. Those of heroes and samurai who, after triumphing over their enemies, returned home to marry a woman or to be reunited with their families. They kept their katanas sealed in their scabbard, cultivated the land and prospered. But Genji had accomplished nothing. No one would wait for him at home. Perhaps it was not too late to turn back and return to Switzerland. Maybe someone would be waiting for him back there.

He had never been so alone. His katana had always been at his side, but it reminded him of his greatest successes as well as of his most terrible failures.

"Yes."

He was afraid Duran would get scared, but the omnic didn't move.

"It's a heavy burden you have to carry." he said. "But a sword is not just for killing, it is also for protecting. It's the person, good or bad, who wields the blade and chooses how he or she should use it. And you don't seem a bad person to me, Genji. I can feel that through the Iris."

"How can you be sure? Your omnic divinity means nothing to me..."

Genji saw Duran raise his arm and pointed his finger at the Sun which continued its course in the sky above their heads.

"The Iris is like the Sun, Genji. All living beings bathe in its rays: plants, animals, humans, omnics. No one can escape its light, even in the deepest and darkest of caves, the sun's rays always manage to make their way through. The Iris sees beyond the material and perceives the imperceptible, what lies hidden in each of us. As one of my brothers said: 'We are all one within the Iris'."

This quote awakened in Genji distant memories, like a feeling of déjà vu.

"I've heard that before."

"It's a strong possibility." Duran added. "You may have heard it from the mouth of Tekhartha Mondatta. He is the leader of my community."

Genji finally remembered where he had first heard that name. He was an omnic spiritual leader who travelled the world and met with several heads of state and international organizations while advocating for an end to discrimination against omnics and equality with humans.

"You say he is your brother?"

"Yes, just like me, he took refuge in this mountain monastery where he followed the monks' teachings. He was one of the first to open up to the Iris. He is the respected leader of the Shambali and a real model for me."

"The Shambali?"

"This is the name of our order, those who live secluded in the mountains. Mondatta is the wisest and bravest of our order. Against the advice of our community, he decided to leave the monastery in order to spread the idea that omnics and humans were similar, not as beings of flesh or metal, but as souls within the Iris."

"Was it because he was a model for you that you decided to go in his footsteps?"

"That's right." replied Duran. "Shortly after he left, I decided to leave the monastery myself and face the world and humans with the results we know.

The omnic turned his head towards Genji and then pointed to his crushed forehead with his finger and let out a slight snigger. Without realising it, Genji also started to puff. Both laughed for several seconds.

"Through the holonet, I know that Mondatta is still pursuing his quest for the benefit of all of us." Duran continued. "For my part, I'm trying to do things my own way. I tell my stories and interact with people."

"He's pushing you to keep going." nodded Genji.

"That's it and I don't let anything take me away from my path."

With these words, Duran put his blindfold over the crushed part of his face and stood up, leaning on his walking stick.

"You say that every living being is bound in the Iris." Genji said as he stood up. "But would it be possible for a human like me to access this Iris?"

Duran put his old coat back on and readjusted his hood, then answered in his hushed voice.

"In principle, if I can perceive all living beings, nothing would prevent humans from accessing the Iris."

"In that case, teach me."

"No, no, no. I'm a storyteller, not a teacher." Duran replied. "If you want to learn, you'll need better teachers than me."

The monastery. Genji hastily put his sword back in its scabbard, tucked his cloak in and put his travel bag in his back.

"Where is it?" he quickly asked. "Travel with me to the monastery, you will show me the way."

"I can't." Duran replied. "When I left the monastery, I lost the right to go back. This is the rule of our order."

Genji felt his enthusiasm fade away little by little before the omnic lifted his finger towards the peaks that dominated them.

"The monastery is in this mountain range, among the highest peaks and the most dangerous crevices."

"Difficulty is not a problem for me." Genji replied with a smile.

Genji extended his open hand towards the omnic.

"Thank you very much, Duran. This conversation has been more than salutary."

"For both of us." Duran added, shaking Genji's hand. "I enjoyed our discussion very much and I hope you will find what you are looking for."

Genji hoped so too. He didn't know anything about the Iris and all those omnic superstitions. Yet his curiosity outweighed his worries. The story seemed absurd, but he wanted to believe it. He had faith in what Duran had told him and he believed in his sincerity.

"Take care of yourself, Duran." Genji said friendly. "I wish I could meet you again if I come back in this region."

"If you get to the monastery, tell them you've come on behalf of Duran." the omnic replied. "I don't know how most of them will react when they see a human at their doorstep. Be careful, Genji."

So they parted on the lake shore. Genji had forgotten the road he was supposed to take. He had left Harāēkō and Japan behind. His mind and all his attention was turned to the mountains. The unknown awaited him at the top, but this only strengthened his determination.

"When you return." echoed Duran's hoarse voice in the distance behind him. "I hope you'll have stories to tell me."

Genji didn't answer him, but when he would see the omnic storyteller again, he could tell him about the long climbs on bare rock, the exhausting walks in the thick powder snow, the white and blue as far as the eye could see, the nights spent in snowdrifts and caves sheltered from the heavy snow. Genji wanted to imagine all this but his mind was elsewhere than on the frozen and hostile summits.

He was thinking of this mysterious monastery perched on the top of the highest mountains where a community of omnic hermits lived. They might have the answers to his questions. If his own people could no longer help him, then the omnics could certainly do so. This Iris could offer him the peace he longed for. Unless he was only pursuing fantasies, but he had nothing to lose. No one would have believed him if he had told others this fable. But Genji seemed to believe it. He wanted to believe it.


Hello everyone!

As promised, I am back with this chapter focusing on the youngest of the Shimada. I had this chapter on Genji in mind for a very long time and I was eager to tackle it because it is a character who went through major changes between the end of Overwatch and the video game canon. It's a very interesting process that should lead him to meet the Shambali and by extension Zenyatta and what will push him to change.

As much to say that it was a real pleasure to write about him and his dilemmas at the time of the story. I had a lot of fun creating Duran, which is a bit of a Zen before its time, a starter before the main course that will be Zenyatta. In short, I'm very eager to arrive at the meeting between the two heroes and this chapter lays the first stone of this intrigue.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, it came very quickly and I am very happy to be able to maintain such a pace for the moment but I hope you don't get too used to it. Thanks again to Etsukazu for his careful rereading and advice!As a reminder, it is a fellow author who wrote a fiction; A Prince of Dragonstone, about the universe of A Song of Ice and Fire (A.K.A Game of Thrones for the fans of the series). You should go read it if you like this universe and the characters. You should go read it if you like the universe and the characters.

For the next chapter, we'll go back to a new character that I haven't yet tackled, and for those who wonder about the general plot of the fiction, chapter 7 should provide some clues for the rest.

In any case, do not hesitate to give me your opinion on the chapter and the story in general in the comments, I would be very happy to read them.

See you soon and take care!