Chapter Text
Mind, Body, and Soul
When Genji first arrives at the Shambali Monastery, his first thought is this: “ I can’t believe I’ve gotten this desperate. ”
Not a human, but a machine - That was the idea he had surrendered to by coming to a place like this. One can’t exactly be picky, though, when they’re an outcast to humans and most omnics alike. The Shambali, at the very least, were willing to take him in.
And for once, Genji has a place to stay. At first, it’s suffocating, so strange after months of wandering. Even during his time in Overwatch, he was always moving, always being flown across the globe.
To hunt down criminals, to destroy. Him, a weapon.
But now, he just had his simple room. He didn’t even have strict schedules to train unlike he had back then, or the constant and looming threat of being found while on the run.
Now he had time, and time was his enemy when it gave him the freedom to think.
To think of it, the last time he had an unchanging roof over his head was back when he was in Hanamura. Before everything, before he crushed the many branches of the Shimada empire, before it was necessary for him to have to steal the few things he had around his room to remind him of it.
It was a blessing because it reminded him of the better days, of him being human, of his memories being real. It was a curse because it always made him think.
When it gets to be too much, Genji gets up and wanders the monastery halls. He then tries to forget.
- - - - - - - - - -
The monks get together often, discussing their teachings of peace, their plans, and as Genji expects: Their philosophy.
It’s quite hard to keep track of who’s speaking. To Genji, their calm droning voices all sound the same. Hell, they even could sound like the omnic guards at the Shimada castle, though he doesn’t recall the guards ever go on long-winded discussions about the nature of a soul.
He’s gotten better at holding back his thoughts of his old home. For a moment, he recalls the time when the first few omnic security were hired at the place. He scoffed at the thought then, they could be easily compromised, like the training bots he worked with often. The elders thought they were a lot more efficient, at least… And more expendable.
Genji returns to the present, and he scoffs now as he listens to the monks.
Poor emotionless machines who wrestle with the thought that they could have a soul.
- - - - - - - - - -
(Sometimes, Genji wanders out to the frozen ponds near the monastery. He stands at the banks and stares hard at his reflection. He tries to watch himself breathe, but he is too silent. Even the whirr of his cooling fans aren’t there, or the rush of air that accompanies his augments recharging and rising and falling.
He feels the pressure of his weight on the floor, though it seems oddly far removed from his feet planted on the snow.
He doesn’t feel like it’s cold at first, but once it’s cold enough it washes over, pinpricks of frost sting around his temples, right under the seam of his visor.
Still, he looks over his faded reflection in the ice.
Like a ghost. Someone who was brought back when they shouldn’t have. )