#bastyatta

To any and all, Tekhartha is ruthless,except for one.

He is judge, jury andexecutioner, and under his control, Talon flourishes. They did good, in takinghim for themselves, twisting him, changing him, but not even Talon can controlwhat they unleashed on the world, and soon he is the one who controls them,though they don’t know… not yet.

Lithe hands that appear so fragile,exposed circuitry that fools the onlooker into believing he is frail, weak, hewelcomes adversity like an old friend, and comes out on top. Cunning,ferocious, merciless.

Tekhartha, once called Zenyatta,once a monk, once a gentle, soft soul, is now on top of the world, and concedesto no one.

With one exception.

At his side, there is an old,battered Bastion. He might look old, what with the tiny bird that nests ontheir body, what with the dirty, scraped frame, scratched out identificationnumber unit, outdated artillery, but everyone knows he is the power force ofTekhartha’s rule.

That… is a common misconception.

“I do not fear you.”

The man kneeling in front of Tekharthais spiteful, a little prideful thing. Tekhartha watches him, forehead arrayflickering in amusement. He will like to break this one.

“Do you not, now?”

“Everyone knows you stand uponlies, and that you are weak, if not for this hulking thing here protecting you.”The spy spits down at Tekhartha’s feet, and Bastion makes a sudden, sharpbeeping noise –a warning, though the man does not seem to understand.

Few do.

Tekhartha stands up slowly andadvances towards the man, who is kept kneeling by Bastion’s strong hands.

“That is… unexpected to hear,”Tekhartha murmurs, and as he circles the man he brushes one hand, delicately,on Bastion’s body. They understand instantly, because they let the man go andstep back, beeping contentedly as they move to stand next to Tekhartha,towering over him.

Ganymede flutter to Tekhartha’sfingers, chirping, and Tekhartha turns his attention to Bastion, brushes down theirchest with his free hand, fingers caressing every familiar scratch, every denton it. He knows them all, each one proof of Bastion’s loyalty to him and himalone. “Did you hear, my dear? He thinks you are the dangerous one. How…amusing.” He turns his face plate to face the man, who is standing up, ready tofight. “I always enjoy teaching people how to fear me. You will be quite theenjoyable treat.”