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Genji was, by all means, a strange addition to the monastery.
In Ramattra's opinion, anyway. He was, of course, weary of the man when he showed up at the snowy mountains of Nepal, led by non other than Zenyatta. The temple was open to humans, and the monks always aspired to create an equally welcoming space for all that arrive in search of something greater. Many of his brothers, as well as himself, did the same — some simply listening to teachings, joining morning meditations, others deciding to stay in the freezing mountains to seek true answers, from the Iris or within themselves. Ramattra, personally, did enjoy his time here greatly, even if the road he chose to walk is an uncertain and rocky one. The monastery did not care for his origins, nor the intended purpose of his model, which is precisely why he decided to keep his mouth shut when the human arrived, angry and exhausted, asking for their help.
He caused nothing but havoc wherever he went. Picking fights where there were none, lashing out to anyone daring to look at him wrong. His temper was outstandingly horrible, even compared to humans he had the displeasure of encountering at the foot of the mountain, nearly causing his demise. It did not surprise him the man was a warrior of some kind as well, if the weapons he refused to part with were not indication enough. The glint of recognition in his eyes upon meeting Ramattra stung more than he would admit to anyone in the monastery.
And every time without fail, Zenyatta was there to talk sense into him. His friend, for some curious reason, decided to take the lost man under his wings. Zenyatta became busy, tending to Genji's outbursts without complaint, disrupting his own carefully crafted schedule in favor of dragging his new pupil away from possible fights. Their joined meditations were often cut short by such occurrences, leaving an unfamiliar weight in his chest.
Ramattra found the man's behavior repulsive. To come here, to the beacon of omnic peace, one of the last left in the world, and ask for help he wasn't willing to accept was nothing short of selfish. He only ever brought his concerns up to Zenyatta once, while working on reconnecting wires cut by a well aimed shuriken.
"He requires guidance." Zenyatta's voice, wise and kind, only sounded frustratingly calm to his ears at the moment. "I would not dare to turn away any seeking the teachings of the Iris."
He knew arguing was pointless. Zenyatta refused to see the danger Genji brought to their residence, to him, even while his friend was mending the proof of just that. His silence prompted the other omnic to talk once more.
"He is lost in a world that does not accept him." Zenyatta briefly paused as he guided an orb of harmony beside Ramattra with an elegant move of his unharmed hand. The warmth it radiated wasn't physical — he couldn't exactly feel temperature, after all — but it brought him peace he never experienced before joining the monks. "I believe we can all sympathize with such struggles."
He thought all too much about it, the similarities between the man and himself. The anger burning in Genji's eyes was familiar, although directed at different targets, different ideas. As far as he could tell at least, since the man tended to want to fight anyone who brought up his past. As Zenyatta's close acquaintance and regular visitor, Ramattra seemed to irk him slightly less, opting to avoid him whenever he could, which was just fine by the omnic.
Much to both their displeasure, Genji's mechanical body seemed to break down constantly, and Ramattra was the most competent engineer in the monastery. While overall a decent composition and execution, the design of certain parts was laughably primitive, limited by the flesh and bone they were forced to connect to. The seam of the two meeting was horribly scarred, as if the cyborg's body itself rejected the modifications. Ramattra did not know their origins, but regardless of his dislike of the man, the sight did not leave him without emotion.
What he did know, is that Genji could avoid landing in his workshop so frequently if he bothered to pay any mind to his body's well being. Constant destruction or training, climbing walls and rooftops without care, and putting off maintenance until the very last second was certainly not the best way to avoid the one who could patch him up properly. It felt like Ramattra had to tinker with every part of his cybernetics by now, besides whatever was under his visor. He most likely hid his face for the same reasons he wore his armor at all times, not an inch of mangled skin shown to the world. This, if anyone, the omnics did not mind.
A quiet knock interrupted the comfortable silence of the night. His optics were quick to recalibrate themselves after hours of disuse, as he lifted his head from the meditation he opted to engage in before his thoughts wandered. He sighed, cursing himself for his lack of focus, and rose from the embroidered pillow to greet late hour visitor. While omnics did not sleep in the traditional sense, most adopted the rhythm of humans in order to coexist, and many opted to stick to these routines, even with only omnics present.
At the other side of the door was Genji, slightly hunched over and left hand holding onto the opposite shoulder, skin showing in place of his missing glove. The cybernetic arm hung visibly limp, not an entirely uncommon sight during his visits. Besides some heavy breaths, the man did not show other signs of pain, and while his injuries did not seem major at first glance, the omnic knew that didn't mean much.
"Genji." Ramattra learned to keep his voice neutral, as much as it annoyed him to accommodate, to avoid possible conflict. They did not need to alert the entire monastery.
"Expecting someone else at this hour?" Genji's words echoed back from the metal of his faceplate, amusement audible in his voice that irked the omnic to no end. Not an urgent visit, clearly.
"Do not get impudent with me." Ramattra warned, quickly scanning for any other injuries from where he was standing. The trauma seemed to be limited to his arm indeed, but the man's human hand was shaking just enough to be noticeable, breaths coming out shaky. His vents, acting as stand ins for his partially missing lung and regulating the temperature his body, were hissing way louder than the engineer would have liked. While it could have been the adrenaline, he could not be sure for now. Ramattra let the brat stand at his door a moment longer, the man's demeanor turning more and more pleading as he looked up to the omnic, before standing aside to let him in. A small, relived sigh echoed on his faceplate as he passed by.
Ramattra made quick work of cleaning the desk of the half done blueprints littering it, and gestured for Genji to sit on the makeshift examination table. With his personal toolbox in hand, he approached the man, who was sitting on the desk still hugging his shoulder, not looking at the omnic. Ramattra stepped closer to finally map the damage properly.
"What did you do this time?" He asked while descending onto one knee and taking the injured limb his hands, leaning closer to the shoulder joint to examine it in the low light. Genji winced as the omnic moved the arm into a more favorable position.
Ramattra found the feature tremendously idiotic. Why add back the flaw of pain to a body that could exist without it? Surely, visual alerts in case of injury would be enough. From what he learned of human anatomy due to needing to upkeep cybernetics, not omnic parts, if nothing else, the seam of flesh and metal connecting had to radiate a certain amount of discomfort. But with how many times Genji seemed to end up at his workshop, he doubted that was the only point to ache constantly.
He once expressed his annoyance, when he continuously failed to connect two newly replaced wires due to Genji flinching every time he attempted. According to the man, there was once a way to turn his artificial nervous system off temporarily, however with his recklessness, many parts became damaged beyond repair. Ramattra was not particularly familiar with such upgrades, and never having the chance to work on cybernetics previously, he could not replicate such delicate modifications with confidence. He would have loved to study the mechanics, if it didn't mean spending a considerable amount of time with Zenyatta's ticking time bomb of a pupil.
"I need to feel when I damage my body further." Was all the explanation he got, gaze averted, and he didn't push. With how Genji fought, it wasn't hard to imagine his team needing a way to keep him from jumping into battle with near fatal wounds. Perhaps the fragile quirks of evolution were still able to protect humans, even if the methods were less then desirable.
Ramattra's experienced hands moved on their own, his mind wandered enough to miss the man's lack of response.
"Well?"
Genji's head was kept down, but the omnic had a feeling he was keeping his eyes locked on him.
"Fell from the roof."
Ramattra snorted, but kept on with his work. The injuries to the shoulder were minor, hinge getting misplaced by the supposed impact. He ignored the man' flinch when he grabbed the arm steadily and popped the joint back into place. Genji groaned and shook his human hand, as if to make up not being able to do with the injured one.
"Aren't you meant to be some kind of assassin? The work you do on the practice grounds certainly suggests so. Yet, you seem to lose your balance on rooftops quite frequently."
His snarky observation was not met with a response.
If Ramattra had the ability to roll his eyes, he would have done so. He moved further down, assessing the damage to the forearm. The actual armor was shattered in its entirety, as were most of the internal mechanisms. Wires and cables were poking out amongst bent pieces of metal, cooling fluid and oil leaking into the inner workings. Protective silicone acting as skin was so torn the omnic could barely see any left in it's original place. The state of the arm was considerably worse than he expected.
"The device operating the reload mechanism of your weapons seems to be intact for the most part." Ramattra begun to explain, noting as the man shifted uncomfortably. "However, we will most likely need to request replacement parts for your hand with the next shipment of supplies. Until then, I will do what I am able to."
The words felt reassuring leaving his voice box, an unfamiliar tone towards the cyborg. He was under no obligation to provide more than repairs, even that was a generous gesture from him, and still, it sounded like the right thing to say in the moment. Perhaps he simply wanted to save Zenyatta the trouble of dealing with his student's distress once again.
Genji nodded just barely, face turned away from the omnic, head bowed towards the floor. His left hand laid by his side, out of Ramattra's sight, and yet, he could see it tremble, maybe even worse than before. While the omnic could not examine his face through the visor, his mind seemed to be somewhere else entirely. Of course, why does he even bother?
Ramattra sighed and opened his toolbox, easily grabbing the correct screwdriver and a pair of pliers from the neatly organized stack. The box itself was used to support the man's hand as he began to remove the parts that cannot be repaired, which were, frankly, most of them.
Throughout the process, Genji was quiet. A few sucked in breaths and a pained twitches were the only indication the man was somewhat present, a stark difference from the watchful eye usually following his work.
With most surrounding components removed, Ramattra finally had a better look at the carefully crafted parts of the weapon. He had a general idea of the design which the mechanism operated on, but the arm in particular did not tend to break down as often, leaving him mostly guessing on what he's supposed to look for. While the machinery itself seemed generally untouched, not minding a couple of ripped wires, the metal encasing it was littered with scratches of variable sizes and depth, without any particular pattern. It was an unusual enough sight for him to lift some of the removed parts, damaged and covered in a thick layer of oil, which hid the similar marks from his eyes until now. There were smears of blood barely visible on the dark gray surfaces. If the man's explanation on how he gained such injuries seemed ridiculous before, now it was straight up insulting.
"I hope whoever taught you a lesson received proper care as well. I cannot imagine them leaving unharmed."
Ramattra watched the man tense, shifting in his seat, the secondary supports in his legs clicking into place with barely any sound. He was not aware if it was a conscious act, or Genji's body was simply getting ready to bolt. Great. He will have to check around the temple to make sure none of his brothers were left to shut down in a hidden corner, another responsibility created by the uncontrollable storm that was Genji, and another injury, no doubt. He could not fathom why Zenyatta insisted on tolerating all of this, or why the monks have not considered turning him away yet.
Perhaps they have. Disagreements are swift to be dealt with, Brother Mondatta stepping in in severe enough cases. There is no question the topic has been discussed, and Ramattra could only hope a decision will be made before the man ends up murdering one of their own.
Or, most likely, Zenyatta has taken full responsibility for the man, as he did for Ramattra back then, even as a newcomer to the monastery. The rage he was built with would not calm with time and without guidance, or the other omnic's overwhelming trust. This second chance was granted just as much by Zenyatta as Mondatta.
He shook his head; now is not the time for reminiscing. He adjusted his hold on the screwdriver to remove the damaged component.
The moment it came in contact with the weapon's metal casing, a hand slammed down on the gutted arm, knocking the tool from the omnic's hand and clumsily covering the area. Ramattra straightened up, ready to scold the man, but the words of annoyance were lost upon the sight before him.
Genji's every muscle, organic or manmade, was wound tight 'til snapping, chest heaved with heavy breaths, now shaking in his entire body. His vents were shrilling excruciatingly as they could not keep up with supplying the man's mangled lungs with enough air. His head was now turned to the omnic, no doubt prepared to react to the smallest misinterpreted move.
Ramattra could have written it off as one of the cyborg's sudden busts of anger, always quick and unexplained, but the tone of his movements seemed way more pure and primal than anything the omnic has ever seen outside the battlefield.
He opted to inch backward slowly while still on his knees, removing any contact with the feral man. Genji's gaze did not leave him, as if looking away for a second would guarantee his certain death. Ramattra attempted to gather his thoughts, making strategies on how he could defend himself from a trained assassin without one of them ending up dead, when the man seemingly calmed enough to return to his senses. His head snapped back down, body folding in on itself as his lungs started wheezing from strain. Ramattra could almost see the million thoughts racing through his head at once.
Genji lifted his trembling hand, unsteady fingers searching around his temple for the release trigger of his visor. The silver piece of metal came undone with a quiet hiss, falling to the hardwood floor as it's owner made no move to catch it, instead grabbing at the edge of the table to steady the man. His fans and vents slowly seemed to catch up to his panicked breathing, human and omnic sounds combined into one.
Ramattra wasn't entirely unfamiliar with the scene in front of him, although he was not well versed in the human aspects. He has seen it all too many times amongst bloodshed, his people realizing they are faced with death, and only that if they were lucky enough.
He watched the man's mouth hang open, nostrils flared, drool dripping onto the worn silicon of his chin and jaw as he fought for air. The action further exaggerated the hollowness of his scarred cheeks, angry red patches and long healed wounds running across most of his face, leaving his skin rugged and uneven. His eyes were of a cornered animal, wide and sharp, a promise of tears glistening at the corners, shrunken pupils now pinned at him.
The omnic wasn't sure what he expected the man to look like; he never thought about it, he supposed. The continuation of the scar tissue found on the rest of his remaining skin was expected, but with the sheer amount of wounded and altered areas explained Genji's unwillingness to show without his visor. People were unimaginably cruel to those different than them. No question such marks carried a memory less than enjoyable as well.
Genji averted his gaze once more as he reached to wipe his tears before they could escape. Ramattra's attention was so focused on the injury he knew he could fix he didn't bother to notice the man's other hand, nails torn and covered in long dried blood. The silence stretched long, only broken by agitated, vulnerable sounds leaving the man's throat, losing most of their omnic-like ring in absence of his visor. Genji reached to the sheath of the wakizashi fastened to the small of his back with a pained grunt, seemingly without his usual katana for the first time since Ramattra knew him. The blade was thrown next to himself on the desk, elegant steel bearing the same marks as the metal casing of his shurikens.
A weight was summoned in Ramattra's chest, deep in his core, throbbing and radiating throughout his body. He waited for the man's answer to the unsaid question hanging between them, unmoving and patient, even if he wanted nothing more than a logical explanation to release this newfound ache within him. Genji was blinking rapidly, the omnic's attention slowly crushing him as he gathered what he could of himself. He glanced at Ramattra only for a moment, a choked sob escaping his lips. The frenzied look in his eyes was replaced by that of cold, bottomless despair.
"Why did you do it?" Ramattra's voice was quiet, calmly monotone with the unmistakable omnic hum of his voice box, almost sympathetic. He felt no anger or pity towards the wounded man in front of him, but he had to hear the blatant, ugly reasoning from Genji, even if he was certain of the answer already. The man's tone was as sharp as his blades when he began to speak, desperate to be heard.
"I'm not just a weapon."
I'm not just a weapon.
The words echoed in Ramattra's mind, digging their claws into his bolts and wires and crawling into every inch of his very being, leaving an all consuming void behind.
He long suspected Genji's modifications were not purely his own decision. The scars he bared from the implantation of his cybernetics were fierce, even to one who did not have flesh to scar. He took no care of his mechanical body, a look of hatred nested in his eyes every time the omnic worked on fixing up his broken parts. Ramattra always believed it to be directed at him, and frankly, why wouldn't it be? He was nothing but weary, if not outright antagonistic towards the one that's supposed to be one of them. He himself was no better than the people on the street who threw him scornful looks upon recognizing his build.
But now, faced with torn insides and bloodied nails, he could not help but recognize the man Genji has become. Forced into a life, a body he did not want is a fate all too cruel for any being.
A life and body where weapons are planted right underneath his skin.
Human cruelty wouldn't even show mercy to its own.
He looked at Genji, the exhausted man staring into the nothingness in front of him without really seeing anything. The silence broken by choked sobs stretched long, all too long for people who barely knew each other and yet, knew each other all too well. Ramattra could only repeat the words Zenyatta told him countless times since arriving at the temple and hope they reach the wounded man already far gone.
"We are more than we are made for."
Genji leaped easily between buildings, preparing weapons with practiced ease. The information on their emergency mission was lacking at best, news about an uprising of an army of omnics, more organized than the world has seen in a good while. As they got practically nothing else useful, Genji had to act as the team's scout and report on the omnics' positions — with a coordinated attack of this size, they no doubt had a leader of some kind, giving them a weakness as well. All the team had to do was find them before the rest can destroy the city.
The streets under him were already in ruins, the omnics' numbers grew with every hurried step he took. Local forces did their best to hold back the attacks long enough for civilians to evacuate, but their teams were not prepared for an attack of this size. Many laid dead already, rubble and torn metal limbs littering the ground beside them. As much it pained Genji to leave the struggling police and military officers behind, he had to push on and shut the invasion down at it's core.
He vaulted over to the next roof without checking his landing spot well enough, eyes too focused on the bloodshed beneath. The building's mangled supports gave out under his feet, debris scratching up the enforced silicon of his palms as he failed to catch himself. He fell several stories into a place that was someone's living room mere hours ago.
He instinctively ran diagnostics for the main functions of his body while he dug himself out of the fallen ceiling and roof tiles. His vitals were stable and no serious injury was detected. His swords were intact and still in their place, as well as the shurikens he unsheathed with a flick of the wrist before sliding them back into the camouflaged mechanism holding them. Everything was functional. He ran a quick lap in the apartment's remains to make sure no one was left injured by the mess he caused, before shaking his himself off one more time. He silently thanked Overwatch's engineers and doctors for his armor — and him — staying intact while he looked for an exit. There's no time to waste.
A balcony was quickly spotted, allowing him to escape the building and climb back up as he continued on his route much more aware of his surroundings.
The number of omnics grew quickly as he advanced, as did the destruction they caused. Forces have barely pushed in here, most held up by the frontline. They had to be close.
And indeed they were; an omnic, although almost entirely covered by the half collapsed wall in front of him, seemed to guide forces with what he could only describe as the shepherd's staff. The floating orb, while angry purple and black in color, reminded him of his master's. The swarm of metal soldiers changed their direction with the move of the weapon.
"I found their leader" Genji spoke into the line connecting his team. Hopefully, they can end this quick and without much more carnage.
"Great job, Genji!" Lena's endless cheerfulness could not be dulled, even by the mission in front of them. "Where are they?"
He looked around, searching for street signs and making sure to keep an eye on the omnic as well. Before he could find any information about his exact position they turned, a flash of purple, red and white catching his eye. A fairly uncommon combination of colors, but one he remembered well. It brought memories of many miserable visits at the cold workshop, hatred burning him alive as large mechanical hands worked on whatever he broke that day, and patience Genji never got to express his gratitude for. The omnic's attention seemed to be caught by some disturbance in the crowd as they finally stepped out from the cover of the wall and into his vision.
Ramattra joined the forces in front of him, glowing staff preventing him from being lost in the crowd, which was now moving like a herded flock of sheep.
"Genji? Are you there? Where's the omnic?"
His stomach flipped as his old acquaintance, his master's treasured friend looked up to the roof where Genji was standing, sparing him only a few seconds more than anyone else in the chaos before he turned back to his duties far sooner than Genji could comprehend the exchange. A second set of hands emerged from his back, sturdy and violent, everything the public believed the omnic to be all those years ago.
Ramattra, the monk who spoke of peace for his people between hours of meditations, was leading the uprising that brought the city to ruin. The R-7000 unit rose well above the others, frame much bigger than those who were manufactured for everyday jobs. The staff in his hand was wielded as smoothly as Genji's own weapons were by him, an extension of his body, swiftly put away to prepare for close combat.
"Genji! Are you injured?"
He could not breathe through the tightness in his chest, vision growing blurry at the edges.
"Genji!"
Are we more than we are made for?