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The incessant knocking was what woke Hanzo, and as soon as his bedroom door swung open he came face-to-face with his younger brother, who, by way of greeting said, “Hanzo, come oooon. You said I could use the conference room with the huge screen. It’s almost time. Wake up!”
Hanzo sighed, rolling his eyes, and stepped out of his room, snagging the master key to the estate off his dresser. He was still dressed in his pajamas, hair loose and mussed about his shoulders. “Fine, let me go unlock it for you. I can’t believe you of all people woke me up at five-thirty for this. You used to be so lazy, what happened?”
Genji laughed, “Come on, you know what happened. I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks, I’ll nap later.”
They walked down the hall, Genji practically vibrating with excitement behind him. Hanzo unlocked the door and let his very exuberant brother inside. The elder Shimada smiled a bit, watching as he bypassed every chair and hopped up on the long table to get closer to the screen. He hadn’t been this happy in years, at least not without creating a massive headache and mess for his brother.
“Most stations should be broadcasting it,” Genji muttered, looking around for the remote.
Hanzo found it on the podium at the back of the room and turned it on, flipping through channels for his sibling, “Yes, we’ll find the right channel for your Omnic boyfriend. Why are you even so excited for this? It’s not like he’s even the one speaking.”
Genji ignored him, as Hanzo had thought he might, face lighting up as Hanzo found the live broadcast from King’s Row, England. It was evening over there on the other side of the world, and the time difference was murder, but he’d been looking forward to this for way too long to miss it now.
Hanzo called up the kitchens to have some coffee brought up and Genji smiled at him, “You don’t have to stay, you know.”
His brother shrugged, “I’m up now. I may as well.”
The live feed just showed two of the Shambali’s golden banners and icon framing a doorway and an empty podium for now as things got ready, and there was clearly a loud chorus of voices chanting Mondatta’s name. Just audible overtop there was some announcer speaking in Japanese. Thank God for international television, at least the speech itself wouldn’t be dubbed over. Mondatta could be a boring speaker but Genji would rather listen to him than that.
On the right side of the open entry Mondatta’s blonde bodyguard watched the crowd, head tilted as he clearly listened to a radio in his ear. “Hey look, it’s Blondie!” Genji said, laughing. “He’s wearing that stupid blue tie again. Mondatta needs to tell him blue is not his color.”
Hanzo snorted, “Genji, you have green hair.”
“Which I match perfectly, asshole. Though if he’s lurking around they must be almost ready to go, or he probably wouldn’t have been pried away from Mondatta’s side—Ha! Called it, here they come!”
The two Shambali leaders stepped out, Mondatta leading, giving a nod to his bodyguard when he was waved ahead, hands moving from behind his back to touch lightly in front of him and stepped up to the podium. Zenyatta followed and took a stationary position standing just behind and to the right, silent but offering a united solidarity.
“Look! Hanzo, there he is!” Genji smiled bright and unconscious, completely unaware of the incandescent happiness that poured off him.
Hanzo snorted, but he smiled faintly, “You’d think you hadn’t just spoken to him last night.”
Genji ignored that too, his whole face lit up with a soft joy that Hanzo so rarely saw. The elder Shimada smiled faintly and pulled out his phone to snap a picture of his brother’s completely besotted expression and resolved to get it to Mondatta later. Lord knew the elder Omnic could probably use something lord over his own problematic younger brother.
The crowd grew quiet, waiting for the Omnic leader to begin, as though the whole collection was holding its breath.
In the silence, Mondatta finally spoke, “Human. Machine. We are all one within the Iris.” He raised his hands as if to encompass the world and the crowd cheered.
Genji chuckled, “There it is.”
“Before me I see a future, humans and Omnics standing together, united by compassion, by common hopes and dreams.” Mondatta continued, his delicate south Asian accent just discernible over the faint tremor of the mechanical tone.
Off to the right Zenyatta glanced back at Mondatta’s security chief and Genji frowned, realizing the blonde’s expression was grim, listening to someone in his ear and he glanced up at something behind the cameras, expression tight. “Wait,” Genji said, his instincts kicking in, not liking this, “Something’s wrong.”
Hanzo leaned forward, frowning, “I think you’re right,” God knew Hanzo had seen the same face from his own security details whenever Genji was involved. Something was decidedly off.
Mondatta’s security chief scowled suddenly and was speaking into his headset, eyes covered by dark red shades, but an unhappy furrow between his brows. Then his expression opened into one of horror.
“What’s going on?” Genji stood, worried, watching as the blonde went up and interrupted the speech, setting a hand on Mondatta’s back and whispering something. Whatever it was, Zenyatta heard it and started looking around, face tilted up. Checking the skyline. The security chief began to lead Mondatta away, another officer joining him, his hand never leaving the Omnic, easing him through the crowd for cover towards one of their armored limos. Zenyatta was led to follow, his own security around him, ushering him forward.
“There must’ve been a breach,” Hanzo murmured, anxiety just beginning to squeeze his own chest. He did not want to think of what would happen to Genji should something befall Zenyatta.
They managed to get the two monks to the limo and have the door open, quickly trying usher them inside and to safety so they can be taken to a secure location.
An explosion rocked through the area, muffled on the audio recording and the camera whipped around to see a slim figure flying off of a rooftop, a flicker of blue in the air. There was a golden streak that whistled through the night and the camera just managed to get a glimpse of Zenyatta mid-throw, his mala lit and flashing gold and blue. The orbs pulsed and before anyone could react—
Zenyatta moved, pushing Mondatta into the car—
There was a loud shot and—
“Zenyatta!” The shout was torn from Genji’s throat, his hands fisted, stuck halfway across the world and afraid—
Golden light burst and filled the room from the television.
--
The last few hours had been tense, even though for now at least, Zenyatta knew the danger had passed. They had been returned to a secure location, a safe house provided by the City of King’s Row in case of this eventuality. There had been many such places they’d had access to in case of attack over the years they’d traveled. This is the first they’d ever had to make use of.
Mondatta was seated on a chair, silent, slightly shaken. Mr. Alexander had his hand on the Omnic’s shoulder and had not been moved in hours. His phone was glued to his ear the entire time, finding out what had happened, organizing the investigation, keeping apprised of the news coverage. Trying to find out how things had gone so wrong. He had been keeping tabs on the news himself as well, but—
Only half the stations were talking about the attempted assassination. The others were talking about something the world had not seen before.
For the first time, Humanity witnessed Transcendence.
By and large from what Zenyatta could glean before Mr. Alexander had ordered all the televisions off, was that they had not known what to think of it. As if so simple a collection or words could sum up the global awe and shock that met the spectacle.
Perhaps not his most thought-through moment of action, but he had not been about to let Mondatta die. He had not.
He would deal with whatever backlash came gladly because of that.
“Excuse me, sirs?”
Zenyatta turned to look over at the aide that had entered, Mondatta barely glancing up, Mr. Alexander scowling, putting a hand over his phone and growled, “What did I say about interruptions? This had better be urgent.”
The aide fidgeted, “I know, I’m sorry. But Tekhartha Zenyatta has been receiving calls for hours and they know the security code that checks out. We’ve been putting it off as per your orders, but they’re getting fed up and calling back constantly. I don’t understand Japanese, but I’m getting a little tired of being yelled at.”
Zenyatta started, “Genji.”
Mr. Alexander’s expression softened faintly but he was still frowning. “If you can confirm that it is Mr. Shimada then you may bring the call in. If it’s anyone else get them off the line, I don’t care if they have the right security clearance.”
The aide nodded and left and Zenyatta shook his head, feeling worse, feeling neglectful, “Of course Genji would have been watching. I had hoped in this case he had forgotten and slept through it.”
“As though he has ever missed an opportunity to stare at you,” Mondatta’s voice came out tired and feeble, but it was the closest thing to life the elder Omnic has displayed since he was practically pushed into the limo. Mr. Alexander shot Zenyatta a slightly wide-eyed look and gestured with a tilt of his head to the monk still under his hand.
A distraction was probably a good thing right now.
Genji had always somewhat excelled at that.
The aide returned a moment later with an open laptop which she set up carefully and a face appeared on the screen, slightly pixilated with movement but clear all the same.
Zenyatta had always felt a deep harmony with the capricious young human, but the feeling of relief and peace that washed over him at the shock of mussed green hair and wide, worried brown eyes that he found on screen was something profound and endless that he wanted to sink into. “Genji,” he murmured and settled into sit before the monitor, letting the camera pick up his face.
“Zenyatta!” The reaction was instantaneous, the human scrambling to shift closer, as if that would somehow allow him to see the Omnic on the other side of the screen better. He turned his head and spat something out—was that a coin?—and frantically adjusted his own display, trying to allow for a better angle. “Are you okay? Fuck this international connection—The news is going crazy talking about attempted assassination, did anyone get hurt? What happened? Just… tell me you’re okay? Please?”
Zenyatta hummed softly, letting the babble of questions wash over him, appreciating the worry for the care it symbolized, “I am fine, Genji. As is Mondatta. No one was injured or harmed. We could both likely benefit from mediation on the fleeting nature of existence. But we are all fine.”
Something in the line of the young human’s shoulders seemed to finally release at that. As if somehow hearing it said was finally enough to assure him that they were both alive. That they were both okay.
It was so very hard to be separated like this with half a world between them, when all he wanted was the haven of his love’s arms, to offer reassurance and seek it in turn.
There was still a wild frustration about the young human, and Zenyatta could see the hands he set in front of him clench and unclench. “I don’t know how much of what’s been broadcast is true and how much is conjecture and whatever else—“ Zenyatta felt guilty all over again for letting Genji linger in the dark for so long, “—But they’re saying the assassin wasn’t even caught. Is that true?”
“I am afraid so,” Zenyatta said, “Whoever it was left very little in the way of evidence behind,” he glanced at Mr. Alexander who was back to his phone, “A few bullets embedded in roofs that ballistics will analyze and some sort of canister with a chemical on it. We will have to see if that turns up anything. All testify that it was a single assailant.”
Genji growled, eyes narrowing in frustration in anger and there’s a familiar flicker of viridian electricity that the camera doesn’t quite seem to be able to render successfully. “What the hell is wrong with King’s Row security, letting them get away?”
“While it is frightening and frustrating, I do not believe they simply ‘let’ anything happen,” Zenyatta told him gently, “Three of the rooftop teams were incapacitated, though no one was killed, several sustained heavy injuries. As soon as we are allowed I am hoping to be able to visit them in the hospital. Whoever attempted to take Mondatta’s life was clearly a professional and this was clearly planned for.”
He feels a burst of discordant energy behind him at the words, and recognizes it as Mr. Alexander. The man is very good at what he does, and while there had been attempts made on them before, all of them had been stopped in their infancy before any threat came close to the Shambali Omnics. None of them had gotten close like this. It is a grave learning experience for all of them.
Genji just shook his head, expression dark and unhappy, “Speaking from experience, it’s unacceptable. I’ve dealt with it before, Zenyatta. You think people haven’t tried to get over the estate walls and get at Hanzo?”
They only rarely speak of the darker truth that lies behind Genji’s family. The younger Shimada is largely uninvolved in his elder brother’s ‘business’ but it makes an unfortunate amount of sense that sometimes one life bleeds over into the other. Especially concerning family.
Still, the words sparked something else in Zenyatta. It wasn’t an epiphany, not yet, but he knew a truth he’ll have to meditate on when he heard it. Genji had fought and foiled assassins before. Zenyatta knew how capable he was, had fought against the bite of his blade firsthand. Genji was a capable fighter, and able to defend—
No, later.
“One way or another, it is done, and we have all come out alive,” Zenyatta said softly, because whatever else was or will be true about the incident, that was really all that mattered.
Genji huffed a sigh but nodded, accepting it. He really had matured so much in some ways since they had first met. The ninja leaned, looking around as if he could somehow see behind him better and Zenyatta shifted, humming in quiet satisfaction, knowing what Genji was looking for. Who he was looking for.
“Hey Mondatta!” he called out, and Zenyatta reached to turn the volume up, obliging, “You okay over there?”
Mondatta didn’t actually reply verbally, but he lifted one hand and gave a subdued wave. Better than two hours ago.
Genji frowned, not sure he was satisfied. Mondatta had always been distant but this is different from his usual sort of isolated demeanor. Zenyatta knew the elder will recover, and would process this all later with the rest in his meditation. “Well, you better be. You are way too stubborn to let this keep you down.”
Genji wasn’t wrong. The shock of it was fresh, but everything dulled with time. Scars can be lessons after all.
The ninja next turned his attention to Mr. Alexander, “Hey, Blondie, you better be taking care of my robots.”
The words warmed Zenyatta from within. It was another epiphany to him, but this one has been blooming slowly over months of careful tending like a reluctant flower. This moment was just another loosened petal of truth that would eventually unfurl into a blossom of devotion that feels a lot like family.
Either the words or perhaps simply the nickname seemed to flummox Mr. Alexander, but it was enough that he pulled his phone away from his ear to frown a bit bemusedly at the screen, “Trying, Mr. Shimada.”
Genji huffed, frowning, and chewed his lip in a show of worry lingering in him, “Do you think they’ll try again?”
“I couldn’t say, but we’ll be better prepared for any similar occurrence. This won’t happen again.” Mr. Alexander’s mouth was an unhappy slant, and Zenyatta felt his discord roiling. Not only were the Shambali nearly assassinated, but the only reason they had not been was the warning they received from an unidentified female voice that tapped into their radio signal and gave them enough warning to react.
They hadn’t managed to find their mysterious helper either, and Zenyatta only hoped that whoever had helped saved his life had not taken a horrible fate upon herself.
Genji snorted, “At least for being not prepared you handled it, which reminds me—“ He whipped back around and jabbed a finger at Zenyatta, actually tapping against the screen, “What the hell was all that golden shit?” His tone was breathless with disbelief and wonder and Zenyatta realized yet another oversight he’d made.
“Ah, that.”
“It was incredible!” Genji’s expression was awed, “I’ve never seen anything like that. What was it? What did you do?”
Zenyatta chuckled tiredly, “Genji,” he began, voice amused and patient, “Why do you not tell me what it was? I have given you sufficient hints over our time together, and I know you are intelligent enough.”
Genji groaned, slumping back in his chair, “Zenyatta, come oooon. I am way too worn out for this.”
“You usually ask me for puzzles, my dear.”
“Ugh, fine,” Genji groaned, but his body language was relaxing slowly. A distraction was a good thing indeed, and Genji always managed. Zenyatta would much rather focus on him than the lingering apprehension and doubt and worry left from the night’s events.
But Zenyatta would rather focus on Genji over almost anything anyway.
“So, I remember when we sparred you said you could becoming invulnerable, and then never explained,” Pointed look, “I can only imagine this is what you meant.”
Zenyatta nodded, “Good. What else?”
“Most of your power comes from your Omnic energy, but this wasn’t like that, or related to your orbs, was it?”
Zenyatta shook his head, “No, you are correct; it is not dependent on that.”
Genji made a noise of frustration, “I was hoping I was wrong. Your golden harmony orbs are about the only thing I’ve seen that’s quite that gold. I haven’t seen it anywhere else.”
“No, I suppose you have not,” Zenyatta agreed.
Genji frowned again, but this time it was an expression of concentration. After a moment, he spoke slowly, recalling words from almost a year ago. “The halo around the endless, where one may catch glimpses of the brilliance of the universe, and illuminate the entirety of creation.” He blinked, eyes slowly widening, “That was more or less what you said before wasn’t it? Is that it? Was that… the Iris?”
Zenyatta nodded, bowing his head once in agreement, “Well thought.”
“That’s what happens?” Genji asked, breathless, “You go… all golden and other-worldly?” He grinned but it was sort of a blank, far-off look, “eight-armed and shining like the sun?”
“It is a state of being called Transcendence,” Zenyatta explained, “For a short time I enter a heightened state of existence when I pass into the halo of the Iris. While Transcendent, I am invulnerable to the perils of the world around me and as I pass through the Iris I can offer the same sanctuary to others and even heal physical wounds, both in flesh and alloy.” He glanced back to where Mondatta was seated, “I took the bullet meant for Mondatta, but within the Halo of the Iris I suffered no bodily harm.”
Genji blinked, blown away, “Whoa. That is so fucking cool.” He grinned brightly, “I mean, you’re incredible. I didn’t think you could get any more amazing, but seeing that? It was—you were just… you were beautiful.”
Zenyatta chuckled, the words warming his spirit in an almost ticklish way, “You do not need to flatter me, Genji.”
“I am completely serious right now,” Genji said earnestly, “You are goddamn gorgeous.”
Zenyatta hummed, amused and patient, “Then perhaps when I see you again I could show you firsthand?”
Genji grinned brightly, “Would you?”
Zenyatta nodded, “I would be willing to do so.”
“Hey, you think you could fuck me while you do that, because—“
“Genji.”
“What?”
Behind them Mondatta made a noise, a somewhat raw sound between surprised amusement and a polite cough. Zenyatta sighed, what a time to start opening up his awareness. At least he was beginning to feel better.
“See?” Genji was continuing, “Even Mondatta gets it. Hey! Blondie! You try it with him and then after we can compare notes. Just not my robot.”
Mr. Alexander, who was not expecting to be addressed at all let alone in such a manner, dropped his phone. His cheeks were stained red and his jaw was slack in disbelief. Zenyatta wasn’t sure if it was the idea of an Omnic, a client, or simply Mondatta that had ruffled his feathers, but the younger monk can’t help but laugh.
“I suppose it was only a matter of time until you brought up sex.”
“Oh, I’m that predictable?” Genji grinned, pillowing his cheek on a propped up hand.
“I play a little game with myself whenever we speak. I wait and see how long it takes you to bring the conversation to the subject of coitus from whatever base topic we began with. Sometimes you impress me, Genji—both in holding off and on jumping right to it, depending.”
He laughed, as Zenyatta thought he would, the sound bright and happy and something within Zenyatta’s soul resonated with the sound. “I will take that as a compliment.”
“As you should,” Zenyatta teased, humming with the love he felt for him and the grief at their separation simultaneously.
Genji leaned closer to the screen, “Seriously though, could you?”
“Genji.”
Mondatta shook his head and stood carefully, the first time he’d moved since sitting down, “On that note, I believe it is time to give the two of you time to yourselves. I believe I have put off my meditation long enough. I will address the others and then begin to process what happened tonight.” He nodded at Mr. Alexander, and only then did his bodyguard let his hand fall from the pale monk’s shoulder. He bowed his head at the screen where Genji waved and took his leave.
Zenyatta turned back to Genji once the door had closed behind him, “As dearly as I need to meditate I find I require hibernation more. I am very tired, and I do not think I can order my thoughts without some rest. I am sure you are tired as well, my dear, but if I could ask a favor?”
“Anything,” Genji promised immediately.
Zenyatta picked the laptop up and took it with him to another room, where he sat and folded his legs in lotus position, “I would very much like to hear your voice as I shut down to hibernate. Will you speak to me until I do?”
Genji’s expression was soft and sad and so full of love, “Of course. You know you barely have to give me an excuse as desperate as I am for your attention. I’ll stay on the line till you wake up if you need. I don’t care how long it is.”
“Thank you,” Zenyatta murmured, “I love you, Genji. I am very glad I am well.” Tomorrow he would mediate, and would revisit the issue with both Genji and Mondatta on how very differently this night could have gone. But for now, the simple words would do, “I am grateful I can continue to see your smiling face.”
Genji laughed, and ran a hand through his ridiculous green hair, mussing it further, “Me too,” he whispered hoarsely, his lovely brown eyes liquid with feeling. “Now why don’t I tell you about this stupid thing Hanzo did to me the other day, that’ll be nice for you to tune out to.”
Zenyatta chuckled and let the steady stream of words from the man he loved wash over him, and finally felt truly as though all was well.