In the beginning, the monastery was carefully hidden away from prying eyes. The omnics that would become Shambali monks had a small social circle that consisted of other omnics seeking refuge. Few humans from the village ever saw them and even less understood them.

It was to be expected.

After the first Omnic Crisis, no one really knew what to make of the strange omnics who took shelter in the abandoned monastery. They rarely traveled out and when they did, they never spoke to anyone. For the first five years after the crisis, no one saw the mysterious omnics in the monastery. Many in the village below assumed that the omnics had broken down. Then, one spring morning, as the snow started to melt, one by one the omnics came down the mountain. They stood shoulder to shoulder. Each omnic had a minimum of one blue light on his or her forehead.

"We are the Shambali monks." The one with ten blue lights on his forehead said. The omnic had a soothing voice, like being wrapped in a warm blanket after a storm. "May peace be with you."

After the Omnic Crisis, this new breed of omnic, peaceful and introspective, was like a breath of fresh air. The Shambali order was well received in the snowcapped mountains of Nepal. It was there that a future for omnics and humans living together in peaceful harmony became a reality. And it was at the Shambali monastery that Zenyatta found, or rather lost himself.

It was mid-morning. The Shambali monks were gathered at the main temple for meditation. The monks were lined in perfect order except for one empty spot in the farthest corner. Master Mondatta shook his head at the empty spot. Brother Zenyatta was a free spirit but to miss group meditation? It was unlike him. Mondatta left the temple searching for his brightest but flightiest student.

Last week, Zenyatta had disappeared to the village without telling anyone, the week before that he climbed the rafters to watch spiders weave a web, and before that he got himself stuck in a tree when he was watching the birds.

It was starting to become a problem. Zenyatta was, as Mondatta mused, like the wind. There was no telling what direction he would go. This made finding him difficult. To search the temple grounds would take hours though and to disrupt everyone else's day to search for him was a bit much. Mondatta folded his hands behind his back. If he was going to find Zenyatta, he would have to think like Zenyatta. That meant-oh! What a lovely butterfly.

It was quite a beautiful thing, Mondatta admired. He wondered what it would be like to be a butterfly. What a perspective the delicate creature must have. To see things from its point of-

The gardens, he realized.

The butterflies were in the gardens and that's where Zenyatta would probably be. As Mondatta walked to the gardens he wondered about Zenyatta. He was a gifted student. Incredibly bright with a genuine sense of wanting to help others and make the world a better place. But there was a…he didn't want to call it a glitch but there was something in Zenyatta that him a bit of a problem child within the Shambali order.

Where the order needed unity, Zenyatta wandered.

When the order needed pacifism, Zenyatta spoke of defense.

When the order reviewed concrete ideals, Zenyatta had a way of making them question everything they had ever known!

It was actually pretty funny when Zenyatta would manage to mystify and confuse the younger monks but when it came down to it, he didn't fit in. At his core, Zenyatta was a good omnic but was he monk material? It was a difficult thing to point down.

"How do you solve a problem like Zenyatta?"

He would be meditating about this for a while. Zenyatta was a pleasant enough omnic to be around. He could make others laugh and feel comforted by his presence. Privately, Mondatta thought that those were better qualities than proper posture for meditation but making others laugh and comforted weren't assets that the monastery needed. Mondatta shuddered at the thought of having to expel his pupil from the sanctuary for omnics that was the monastery. The world was still a cruel and unforgiving place for omnics. To imagine Zenyatta, on his own, without a place to go was horrible. There was no telling who he would meet, what places he would go to, the trouble he could get himself in. Mondatta wondered if the humans worried about their children as much as he worried about Zenyatta. He heard voices as he approached the gardens. Soft at first but one was steadily growing louder.

"I assure you that I meant no harm."

Zenyatta's voice he recognized.

"You are wandering again!" Snapped the angry voice of Basho, a new refugee from Russia who fit in quite well with the other survivors from the Omnic Crisis. "You dishonor us."

"I am truly sorry, I-"

"What would Master Mondatta say if he saw that you are late for morning meditation?"

"I would say that you are both late." He answered. Basho jumped where he stood, Zenyatta bowed to him. "What disturbs you brothers?"

"Brother Zenyatta was missing meditation." Basho dutifully informed.

"I could not help myself." Zenyatta said apologetically, "But I needed to see the butterflies."

Basho scoffed. "You lack discipline."

Mondatta raised a hand, quelling any further arguments. "You needed to see the butterflies, Zenyatta?"

"Yes Master Mondatta. For you see, I had a dream."

Basho snorted but Mondatta was unwaveringly understanding. "A dream?"

"I think was a dream. It was confusing. I know that the things that I saw were not from my memory banks but it felt so real. It made me happy."

"And what was your dream?"

"I dreamt that I was a butterfly."

Basho could no longer hold back his comments and exploded, "A butterfly?" He said disdainfully. "You are not a butterfly, you are a monk…and a poor one at that."

"Brother Basho." Mondatta chided.

"I know that I am not a butterfly but when I woke, I…I had a thought. Was it I, the monk, dreaming of being a butterfly, or was it the butterfly dreaming of being a monk?"

Mondatta could feel it in his wires that it was going to be a long day. "And you wanted to see the butterflies because…"

"I wanted to see if I recognized any. Butterflies must have friends like the birds have flocks and the bees have hives, correct? But as I was watching the butterflies, I had another thought."

"Of all the ridiculous nonsense I have ever heard-"

"Brother Basho, I believe that the others could use your enthusiasm in the temple. Will you lead them in prayer?"

"Yes Master."

Once alone, Zenyatta apologized again.

"I did not mean to cause trouble, Master Mondatta."

"I know." He said.

"I will go straight to meditation if-"

"Tell me your thought."

"It seems very unimportant now, master." Zenyatta said shamefully. "May I please go to meditation?"

"Thoughts should not be cast aside. What was your thought?"

"…that whether I am a monk or a butterfly, that I am Zenyatta…that true self is without form."

All that from dreaming of butterflies…He was impressed.

"Excellent thinking." Mondatta bowed to his student. "You will be a master in no time."

And three years later he would be. However, even with the achievement that came with gaining the title of Master, Zenyatta still continued to ruffle the metaphorical feathers of the Shambali order.

"Master Mondatta!" Basho shouted. "He's at it again!"

He's at it again, Mondatta thought, could mean a lot things. Zenyatta could be wandering, he could have gotten the monks confused, he could be stuck up a tree, or the more likely option, he could simply be annoying Basho again. Given the frequency of "He's at it again", Mondatta was willing to bet that he was annoying Basho. Mondatta rose to his feet and exited the temple.

"What is it now, Brother Basho?"

"Zenyatta is-"

"Master Zenyatta." Mondatta gently corrected. Basho all out refused to call Zenyatta a master.

"He's juggling!" Basho cried like it was the biggest travesty of the century.

"He's…juggling?" Mondatta said slowly, "Like a circus clown?"

"With those orbs of his, Master! You should see him."

And he did. Zenyatta was in the gardens again, a favorite spot of his, and his orbs were spinning about him but not by his hands. They were simply spinning around him.

"See?" Basho hissed.

"Master Zenyatta?"

His concentration broken, Zenyatta's orbs fell to the ground. "Ah, Master Mondatta and Brother Basho." He chirped, getting to his feet. "Are you here to enjoy the gardens too?"

"Brother Basho tells me that you have been juggling?"

"I guess it could be called juggling." He said helpfully. "But I wanted to see if perhaps…" He trailed off seeing how scornful Basho had become.

"Yes?" Master Mondatta encouraged.

One the orbs started to float back in the air. It was followed by the others. Zenyatta's hydraulics hissed as his body relaxed. Mondatta held back a chuckle. He had intended for the orbs to be a way for Zenyatta to stay closer to home. The monk was less likely to wander if he had something in front of him to focus on but he didn't think that he would use the orbs for yoga. And he was right. One the orbs shot forward with violent speed. It cracked a tree in half.

"See? I thought that I could use the orbs for combat."

That sent shivers down Mondatta's core. Combat…the very thing that they were here to avoid. Oh dear, Iris…why combat? Why did it have to be combat? Why couldn't it be sparrows or butterflies? None of the other monks were like this. Mondatta composed himself. "Zenyatta, my dear friend, I must ask, why?"

"Defense."

"What did the tree ever do to you?" Mondatta had to ask.

"Master Mondatta!" Basho was aghast. "May I have a word with you?" He pulled his Master into the temple and spoke in a hushed tone, "He's a liability. You must banish him."

Over my dead body, Mondatta thought. Still, combat that was troubling.

"He has done nothing wrong."

"We are pacifists. He's using his fists."

"Strictly speaking, Zenyatta is using his orbs."

"Does the method matter when the result is the same? Master, you cannot allow this behavior to continue. It will fester." Basho said crossing his arms. "One of these days, he will hurt someone or worse kill. I hope you are ready for that responsibility."

Mondatta put those fears away. Zenyatta was stumbling but he was finding his way. He was a Master. He was kind and thoughtful with the newcomers who fled the ongoing conflict against their kind. He always accomplished his duties on time. He was an excellent teacher. With time, Mondatta hoped that Zenyatta would be able to take his rightful place among the order. Mondatta knew that he wouldn't live forever. No one really knew how long omnics could live but if Zenyatta continued on his path the way he was going, then one day he would be able to take his place and lead the omnic civil rights movement.

That day would never come.

It was late, almost dawn, when Mondatta was awoken by the screams of his fellow monks. He feared the worst. Were they under attack? Had anti-omnics come to kill them? Mondatta left his sleeping quarters went to the very edge of the monastery grounds. Flames had engulfed the village below. Without wasting time, he ordered everyone to a secret hiding spot under the temple.

"GO!" He shouted. "Hurry now, one at a time!"

Mondatta counted each one as they hid away. But one person was missing. Mondatta stopped Basho, "Where's Zenyatta?"

"I don't know!" He cried hysterically.

Of all the times, Mondatta hopelessly thought. "Stay in the temple. I will come and get you."

"And what if you don't?" Basho shook uncontrollably with fear.

"Then all they will find is me."

His plan was on shaky ground. He would go alone into the village. He would pretend to be a wandering omnic and if they asked if there were any other omnics in the area, he would lie. If they threatened him, he would lie. If they broke him, he would lie. If they threatened to kill him, then he would lie and die.

Mondatta raced down to the village. The falling snow seeping deeper into his joints and his core getting colder. He prayed the entire way down as the thick snowflakes got heavier. He prayed that his brothers and sisters would remain safe in the temple, that the Iris would watch over them, that everyone would live, that the village would survive, that Zenyatta-

He tried not to think of Zenyatta. His mind wandered to the worst case scenarios. Zenyatta's lifeless body dashed to pieces among the snow, raiders torturing him…the world was such a cruel place for omnics. He knew that. He would have to be a fool to ignore it. The horror stories he had heard from the newcomers kept him up some nights; omnics sleeping wherever they could in the streets would be kidnapped and stripped for parts. Some were beaten or killed for simply existing. Was wanting peace so wrong?

Mondatta arrived at the village. Faces, some he recognized, were putting out the untamable fires. Others were mourning over the dead. It was in the center of the village that he saw him. Standing like a ghastly ghost among the dead. He was covered in blood and snow. It was in that moment that Tekhartha Mondatta knew true fear. The figure turned to him. It raised it's hand.

Mondatta's circuits went haywire. This was it. He was going to die and – An orb flew past his head.

Nine orbs in all float so delicately around the figure. Mondatta was frozen where he stood.

"Z-Zenyatta?"

His dearest friend turned to him and it broke Mondatta's heart. Zenyatta was missing his arm. Sparks shot out sporadically. A long deep gash was across his chest, exposing his delicate core. As monks, they didn't wear standard omnic protective plating. One well-placed shot and that was it. What had they done to him?

"Master?" Zenyatta wasn't all there. His systems were handling too much at once. His core was overheating. His hydraulics hissed. His systems shut down all unnecessary functions but it wasn't enough. Zenyatta collapsed.

From what Mondatta could gather from the villagers, the bandits had heard of omnics living in the mountains. They thought that they had found easy targets to strip of their parts. The villagers put up a fight but when the fire spread, the bandits had gained the upper hand. Somewhere between the fire and bloodshed, Zenyatta had come.

The rest was a mystery but two things were for certain: 1. The village was still standing because Zenyatta and 2. Zenyatta had broken every rule that the Shambali monks had created.

Mondatta shook his head as he rested in what constituted as the monastery's hospital. He had yet to leave Zenyatta's side. His injuries were so severe. The little blue lights on Zenyatta's forehead dimly glowed. Zenyatta was in sleep mode. His arm had yet to be replaced and he would need a new shield plate. Mondatta doubted that he would ever be able to forget that haunting image of his brightest student nearly dead.

The screen door slid open. It was Basho with a cup of tea. Though omnics didn't need to eat or drink to stay alive like their human counterparts, a cup of tea was always welcomed.

"Master Mondatta." He bowed.

"Come in, Brother Basho."

Basho sat next to his master. He kept grasping the sash draped over his body.

"If you have something to say, Basho-" Mondatta said wearily, "-I recommend you say it now."

"I told you." Basho said finally. "I told you that he would do it and he did. But did you listen to me? No! Master…I…I take no pleasure in this but we…we can't allow Zenyatta to stay here. The movement is gaining credibility. You are becoming a household name. All of that will be destroyed if you keep undesirables like Zenyatta around. He has to go."

"I cannot."

"You must." Basho pleaded. "Would you sacrifice our cause for one omnic? Master, you are blinded."

"You forget your place." Mondatta snapped.

"And you yours. You are our Master. Would you drag us through the mud, destroy everything that we have worked for because of him? Don't we matter as much as he does?"

"Of course-"

"Then act. I know that it isn't in your heart but allow us, his peers, to make a decision. We will give him a chance to talk, to plead his case but this cannot go unanswered."

And so it was to be. As soon as Zenyatta had recovered from his injuries, he was placed in the temple to answer questions and plead his case to his brothers and sisters. Mondatta looked on worriedly. Personally, he never saw violence as a means to an end but he could not deny that without Zenyatta's intervention, they probably wouldn't be alive right now. But would the others see it that way?

Mondatta forced himself to relax. "Zenyatta, what did you do?"

"Bandits were raiding the village." Zenyatta said softly. "I told them to leave or to face punishment for their crimes." His hands were shaking. "I told them three times." His voice cracked. "Three times to put down their weapons and leave or I would be forced to take action. They did not. I was forced to act. I-I am so sorry, Master. I never intended to-"

"You purposefully killed in cold blood. You have violated everything that we stand for." Basho's voice, reverberated in the temple. The other monks were on his side. Mondatta watched helplessly as they turned against his student. This was out of his hands.

"I am sorry but when I saw the rising smoke and the fire…I could not stand by and watch them kill the villagers."

"You are a monk, not a soldier. We do not act." Basho said.

Zenyatta became rigid. "Was I meant to allow the slaughter?"

"There are others who would have fought." A monk, Eila, piped up. "Many still fear us. To cause such a…mass murder, justified or not, it would have unfortunate ramifications."

"We have worked hard to promote a peaceful existence."

"I am aware of this." Zenyatta tried to speak.

"Are you though?" Basho questioned. "The war we are now waging with the humans isn't of violence but of respectability. If we are above reproach then any acts of violence against us reflects poorly against the human race. If we act out, we validate every negative thought and stereotype against omnics. What you have done is given ammunition to the opposition. It is unforgivable. I move to banish Zenyatta from Shambali." Spoke Basho. "There is no place for your violence, your bloodshed, or your ideas here."

One by one, the monks raised their hands.

"My ideas saved lives. I do regret the actions that I took but I will not allow the innocent to be hurt. If we are meant to promote peace then why do we not act when others are in danger? There is nothing peaceful about allowing the suffering of others to continue."

"It is forbidden by our teachings. The order denies acts of violence."

"So we let others die?!" Zenyatta cried out indignantly. "You would have us step aside because the religious doctrine decrees otherwise? That is insanity."

"Heretic!" The monks shouted.

"Hear me out!" Zenyatta pleaded. "If we are to show the humans that we are respectable, then what is more respectable, more human, than coming to the aid of others? If you have the power to act when action is needed then we should indeed act."

"If you do not appreciate the order, Zenyatta-" Basho's voice rose to match his. "-then leave."

"Master Mondatta?" Zenyatta turned to him. His voice was full of hope that his master would understand his point of view but he would not. Deep down, Mondatta knew that Zenyatta would never become the monk he hoped he would be. He would never be able to lead the movement from his point of view. He would never be able to follow in his footsteps. With a heavy heart, Mondatta cast the final vote. He stared wearily at his bright student and said, "May peace be with you, Tekhartha Zenyatta."

Zenyatta would never speak to Mondatta again. Tekhartha Mondatta would be assassinated before any attempt at reconciliation could be made. Zenyatta kept tabs on his former brothers and sisters as they made funeral arrangements for Master Mondatta. He wasn't invited to the private ceremony but he was sure that the funeral was respectful and dignified…everything that Mondatta was. The Shambali monks never contacted him after his banishment and to do so now, it made him nervous.

Tracer led him to the meeting room. Winston breathed a sigh of relief seeing the resident monk and the fastest woman alive. Zenyatta became rigid and frigid when he saw Basho's face bearing down on him like an angry god.

"I am required by my brethren to speak to Zenyatta alone. Would you mind if we-"

"Not at all." Said Winston.

"See ya, Zenny!" Tracer dashed away.

The silence between the two monks was deafening.

Zenyatta respectfully bowed. "Brother Basho."

"It is Master Basho now." He couldn't keep the pride out of his voice.

"What is it that you need, Master Basho?"

"Have you seen the destruction of our omnic brethren lately?"

Zenyatta had traveled the world. He had seen the attacks, the hate, and the senseless violence first hand. To say "lately" was a bit of a slap to the face.

"Yes, I have. If you are here to speak of possible missions then have no fear. Overwatch is already in Russia. I have full confidence that they will bring peace and restore harmony."

"It is not only Russia that I am concerned with. England, Australia, and countless other countries refuse to give omnics rights of any sort. We are mere slaves to them. They refuse to bend."

"I know."

"The movement is suffering, Zenyatta. We require unity."

"As Master Mondatta would say-"

"Master Mondatta is dead." Basho said coldly. "There will be a memorial service in England at King's Row. If there was ever a time for unity, it would be now. You are an Overwatch member and…and you were close to Master Mondatta. Your words would go farther than one virtually unknown monk. Would you be willing to speak at the service?"

"I…" Was he even worthy to speak of his Master in front of his followers? "I would require time to reflect on your offer, Master Basho. Master Mondatta was…" How could he ever fit everything that was Mondatta into a single speech?

"I understand but please think about it. If not for Master Mondatta then for the omnics who need to hear of words of comfort in these trying times."

Personal headcanon: If you leave Zenyatta alone for a while, he will wander. He doesn't mean to but when you're barely twenty years old and there's so much of the world that you haven't seen, you're going to want to take a look around.