The plane started to level off.
"Mondatta and I were flight atendants." I stared at him a little baffled. For half a second, the thought of Zenyatta in a skimpy flight attendant uniform flashed through my mind. Complete with skirt and little scarf. I was immensely gratefull to the visor for hiding my face. My tempreture spiked a little, but within tolerances.
"Everyday, we would do the safety brief and bring peanuts to pasangers. I enjoyed flying, in all honesty. Mondatta didn't feel the same way. He much prefered to ponder on what he was told by passangers. The Omnic Crisis was still fresh in many people's minds, so there was much said to us. Eventually, we heard of the monastary. He insisted we joined. It is- was his calling. I actually took some convincing. Though I eventually agreed. The bond I wanted to keep with him was stronger than my desire to remain in the sky. My levitation was originally a system to help me keep balance during turbulance in the air. After some time of meditating, I found a way to use it as you see it. Mondatta never agreed with it. The way I used my skill reminded him of what he considered darker days."
Zenyatta finished. There was a stilness in him. He hadn't said a word about Mondatta since he died. I did the only thing I could by giving him room to grieve, and a friend to confide in if he ever needed to. This seemed to be that time.
"So, you just enjoy flying?"
He gave a small chuckle. "Immensly so. Flying is something that was never thought of possible for the longest time. There's a hope in it. And it's cool."
I returned the last statement with a laugh of my own. "As a younger brother myself, I can confirm that being the 'anoying little brother' is entirely about doing things your brother hates. And the only reason to make him mad, too." I noded at the last part. Granted, it led to some pretty drastic actions on my brother's half, but it was all worth it. Knowing what would happen, I would do it all again the same way.
Zenyatta leaned into me. All of his tension eased away. "Genji, I am so proud that you forgave your brother."
"You have told me this many times."
"And yet I am tempted to say it again. Mondatta and I were begining to have a falling out. For a while, I feared it would have ended the same way as if I had never left that plane." He gazed at the bulkhead, studying the rivets holding the pieces of metal firmly interlocked. "I feel guilty that I almost thanked them for taking him away before we could detest each other."
To me, Zenyatta seemed as if he had the anwser for everything. But then I realized, he knew the anwsers to my problems because he faced them himself. His philosophy was on interpersonal relationships, and I was his best student because we connected on so many things. I couldn't believe that I didn't realize it before. Without thinking, I wraped my arms around his small frame in a hug.
Then I whispered to him the advice he gave me every day when we first met. "You deserve to be happy." And as quickly as I grabbed him, I released him as well.
My tempreture was spiking again. There was no air conditioning in the Omnics section. Even my face was sweeting. Witha bit of squirming, I took my jacket off. My body was letting out steam as much as it could, some of the steam had condensed onto my shirt like sweat. Zenyatta was seeming to have trouble as well, his fans whirring loudly.
We were early along the 5 hour long flight. The other omnics had already switched to sleep mode, to make the time go faster and to reduce their heat output. Turning my head to Zenyatta, "Wouldn't you be more comfortable asleep, Master?"
"That would leave you in the heat, my student."
"I will be alright. I brought extra water." And I reached into my bag to retreave a bottle in example.
Zenyatta tilted his head at me. "Well, you know your limits." His voice trailed off. "Please make sure you don't, uhem, get any hotter than you already are." And he powered down.
After a short while of watching Zenyatta, to make sure he was cooling down well, I pulled out a book from my bag. Before opening the text, I hooked my arm around Zenyatta's. To keep track of his tempreture. When I was comfortable against the wall, I started to read. The book was good. It was about finding zen through maintiaining a motorcycle. Zenyatta recomenended it to me. Before I knew it, I was another chapter in and another hour later.
My tempreture had been creeping up, and I barely noticed it. I tried to release a small burst of steam, but I was dehydrated. Zenyatta would be upset, or as close to upset as he could get, if I let myself overheat too much. I was really hoping I wouldn't have to refillmy water tank with all of the other omnics around. They were asleep, though, I noted as a quick look around the compartment confirmed this. Shifting around, so I could unhinge my arm from around Zenyatta, I unfastened my visor. I cradeled the piece on top of the book as I drank deeply from the water bottle. Talking was one thing, but using my throat to drink was a little weird. The water hit my toung and hit the inside of my cybernetic throat. My face was where the divide was. I could feel all of the synthetic fibers in my neck working together, a mechanical means imitating an organic being's organic needs. And it coalesed in a 'stomach' that was close to my sholders, ready to be let of as steam or be directed to my heart, lungs and brain. I took a moment to feel the heat dissipating into the tank and let the rest of my body to regulate as needed, a puff of steam comming from my sleves.
Zenyatta suggested this when I became his pupil. He wanted me to aknowledge everything about my body. It was good advice. Though I didn't know it at first. Instead, I was trying to do the opposite and pretend that my body didn't affect me. Though, after a mishap that resulted in some much needed repairs, I started to take his lessons to heart. He had told me that while true self is without form, we are residing inside these bodies and we must take care of them. I finished off the water bottle.
Before I grabbed a second, I heard a noise. Not the steady thrum off the engines that had faded into the background, or the steady hum comming off of Zenyatta or the others down here. It was a tromping noise, as if someone was coming through the cargo area to where we were sitting. I quickly pulled on my visor, dimmed my lights, and hung limp against the wall. As the steps came closer, I just focused on my breathing, trying to make the rising and falling of my chest as slight as possible. Then the men came through the divide. Two of them settled at the center of the room. The third was ridgid in the walkway.
"I really don't think we should here..." he murmured. The guy was scrawny, but tall. His face was gaunt but with a strong jawline. He looked young, maybe as old as Zenyatta.
One of the two turned to him a little and sneered. About middle age, he cracked his nuckles, a metalic clicking coming from one. His face was angry, but eyes were sad. He was thick in the shoulders, and just as much in the gut. "Well, they shouldn't be here, either." The barrel man spoke with a russian accent.
The third man was silently looking at us. He was old. You could tell from his demenor that he had seen war. He was the shortest, but held himself in a way that made him seem like the largest person in the room. He just stared and mused. Then he looked at me. No, he was looking at Zenyatta. Then he shuffled his hand in his pocket for something. He took out a photograph and looked at it. It must have been a picture of Zenyatta becuase he just nodded at it at toned out, with no emotion, "It's him. Destroy the others. We don't want our target known. If they found out..."
My heart was in my throat. They wanted to kill my master, just like they killed his brother. And they would kill all of these innocent omnics in their sleep just to cover it up. Talon. The oldest one took a few steps to Zenyatta, and I waited patiently. Every second killed me as the man in front of me surveyed my master like he was an undesireable piece of toast. The other man just looked around him, a smirk plastered across his face as he was deciding wich of us to mutilate first. Finally, the war vet stretched out a hand towards Zenyatta.
I grabbed it. Then I tilted my head up to look him in the eye as my lights started to gleem green. It took him by surprise when my right fist impacted with the bottom of his jaw.
"I would prefer it if my master was given the chance to sleep." I smilled inwardly at how cool that must have looked. Point one for the green cyborg ninja dude. Unfortunately, these men dieing on an international flight would cause major issues for the newly reformed Overwatch. My swords were in a locked case in cargo, anyway.
So, before the elderly man could recover, I combo kicked him in the gut to send him buckling. The thick one started to rush towards me. Then I finished the first one with an elbow to the back of his neck. One down. I met the second in the middle. The young man was still in shock. Crouching, I dodged a flying fist. I shot out a foot and caught him in the ankles. He was top heavy. Because he skipped leg day, he crashed to the ground. He caught himself. The man in the back was starting to realize what he had gotten himself into. Second guy rolled before I could finish him. My fist hit the steel of the plane instead. My hand buckled the floor of the plane. It indented so much my hand stuck for a moment. I was using too much force again. Taking a deep breath I steadied my emotions. Before I could block he sent a fist to my face. Steel hit steel. The man's hand started to twitch. He tsked at hit. The prosthetic was broken. I was built better. His attention was away from me. In a dash I grabbed the jacket I had brought. Then I was at him again. He took a step back, startled at my speed. He tripped over the leg of an omnic. Down he went again. I grabbed his puddgey ankles. Then I tied them together with my jacket. 'Hog-tied' as McCree would say. The man couldn't reach beyond his stomach. He wasn't going anywhere. He just started to spout curses, presumably, in russian.
Then there was the last man. He was shuddering in the doorway. He was pointing something, a gun, at me. I held my hands up. If he pulled the trigger, the way he was shaking, he could hit an innocent. There was a twitchy smile on his face. It was obvious he had never fired one before.
"Stay away from me, man. Just stay away."
"Do not worry," I soothed, trying to immitate Zenyatta. "I won't hurt you. No one has to get hurt."
"Just shoot him!" The man on the floor shouted.
"Shut up! He took down Sarge like he was nuthin! Sarge- Sarge!"
I zipped around just in time to see the millitary man lunge at me. He grabbed my torso as I grabbed his neck and shoulder. He pushed foreward, and I pulled him over me. He braced his legs agaisnt the floor. We were in a stand still. I was about to shove him off. Then there was a bang. Limp. Mr. Millitary was sagging against me. I looked down at him. The kid hit him dead center. There was crimson all over his shirt and mine.
There was only one chance. I sat him against the wall. The man with the gun ran back to cargo. The man on the floor was shouting. I shook Zenyatta and shouted his name untill he awoke. He was fully awake at the sound of distress in my voice. He looked at the red on my shirt. Then the red on the man. He understood immediately, as he always does. He conjured his Orb of Harmony. A few of the omnics had awoken at the sound of the gunshot. But as they saw what had happened, they quickly shut themselves down again. So it was me and Zenyatta hoping we weren't too late as the man on the floor was shouting and crying for his friend. I watched the crimson died shirt rise and fall slowly. And then it spiked as he coughed violently and suddenly. And the world shifted back into reality.
He opened his eyes and stared at me. Then he turned his head towards Zenyatta. The man on the ground had stopped screaming he was just looking at Zenyatta. Master just looked around in surprise. "What happened? There is one man severly wounded, and one tied up. And I missed it all."
"Master," I started, "They tried to, they wanted to-"
He held a hand up to my mouth. "Calmly Genji. Everything is alright, and this fellow is all patched up now. So you don't have to get worked up. It's hot enough in here."
I released some steam. There was a few seconds of my breathing steadilly. The old soldier watched in confusion the rise and fall of my chest. My water tank will need to be filled again soon. Especially if there was anymore excitement today.
"We came down here to destroy you," the old man weezed. Zenyatta continued to heal him. "The war took different things from us. For some of us, it was our children. Others, it was parts of themselves. Even our mothers and fathers."
There was a grim silence. The man on the floor shuffled. "I wasn't in the war. I was too young to enlist. But I lived in the city and the war came to us."
My mind went to the Omnic Crisis. I fought in a few battles. There was not much I could do. Later I was able to joke about how I was built for stealth, not combat. As per our agreement, I was mostly was tasked with taking down the Shimada Clan. Though that time was particullary bitter to dwell upon. The backdrop of the war just made everything seem terrible everywhere. Sometimes it was hard to think about how difficult it was for everybody else as well.
"And junior, who went scurrying off. Both of his parents died protecting their home. We picked him up in our little rag-tag familly before we went to Talon." The man on the floor finished and finally seemed to run out of energy. It was as if just the memory of the war took everything out of him.
Zenyatta finished up healing the old man. The golden light dimmed down. Then he tilted his head at the man in a reassuring smile. "We can never change the past. The most we can do is learn from our errors. For the next generation's sake."
Hellfire seeped from the soldier's gaze. "And you are one to talk! It's because of you and your kind that generations are suffering!"
"That was not becuase of Master Zenyatta! Those Omnic were being controlled by the God Programms!"
"Calm back down. You're going to overheat." My systems were starting to show warrning signals. Zenyatta turned back to the man. "I am sorry that you think I am to blame. The war was before I was manufactured, so I am unable to understand fully what you feel. But that is why I travel and spred the words of the Shambali. So that pain need not be seen again."
The man just blinked. "You really think...?" The man looked dumbfounded, aggitated even. Then he rummeged around in his pocket. He pulled out the picture of Zenyatta. I was just now able to see that there was writting on the back. He placed it in Zenyatta's hand then looked at him squarely.
"Prove me wrong then." The man got up. Neither of us stopped him. He went over to his friend and untied him. He tossed me the shirt before heading back to the passenger section with his friend.