A single event changes the course of history. An out of whack and nasty alternate ending for Saiyuki.
Rating : G
It was a sacrifice of purest altruism that doomed the world.
In a temple darkened by night and rain, a small shape leapt desperately into the path of a sword. There was a strangled cry of pain that twisted off into silence, and red merged with gold. A boy of thirteen summers stared into the face of his beloved master, and with dying strength, smiled for the last time. Then he fell unmoving to the floor as the youkai yanked the blade from his corpse and turned on his original target, the older priest.
In the seconds which that act cost him, the world went afire with green and white. The unleashed fury of two sutras wrought havoc in that small room, leaving only one alive.
Koumyou Sanzo gathered his fallen disciple into his arms.
The youkai returned the next night, in greater numbers. They left none alive.
A child sat in a prison of stone and stared at the sky. He had awoken this morning to rain. Dark clouds obscured every inch of the sky, and the sun that he so loved gazing upon was invisible. Suddenly miserable, he huddled to the back of the cave. Something had changed. He was unsure of what it was, but it made him sad. Whimpering in loneliness and despair, he buried his head in his arms.
Outside, the heavens wept.
A nameless criminal stepped out of the house that had been his home for a little while. He walked, cradling his injured side, until he came to a wide, scorched plain. There, he dropped to his knees in shock and horror and mind-numbing grief, staring at the barren land where a castle had once stood.
"Gone," he whispered.
In his grief, he never noticed the shadows that dogged his footsteps.
A caw split the still air, and the sun rose. A single body lay on that empty wasteland, and a crow winged swiftly away.
A man calmly lit his cigarette as he stared into the distance. The night was never truly dark now, with the fires that raged in the distance. The day was never truly bright, for the dust raised by rampaging hordes and the smoke from the fires obscured the sun. Behind him, the last of the villagers were frantically making for the road, abandoning the lands of their birth. Before of him, the last of the villages before them had fallen; nothing now stood between them and the youkai madness.
The wind tugged weakly at red hair, bringing the scent of death from afar. Still he watched, seeing no point in running. All the world had descended into madness... there was no place left to hide.
"I hope you found what you were looking for, buddy," he whispered. "Maybe you'll have a chance to tell me your name this time, because we'll be meeting soon."
The gods waited until the last of the human settlements was destroyed, and the insanity of Gyuumao and the Minus Wave covered the earth.
Then they turned away.