Meet Mayhem, Episode 2 : Hell Rules You

[Anesidora The Wicked]

The surly monk had been given a day's reprieve and that was all the mercy Anesidora was willing to give him. After dealing with the dream, the demoness had left the dark sanctuary she called home to make good on the final threat she had laid down to the insolent priest. Breaking into Heaven was a joke, their guard was laughable at best and some of the gods that resided up there didn't really care much about some of the lesser souls that were supposed to be under their care. That was what happened with laziness and contentment, people like them got sloppy while people like her reaped the benefit.

Anesidora liked to constantly be busy unlike her kaioshin counterparts and she was always scheming. Plotting dark deeds was a fun way to pass the time and improvisation sometimes happened much to her delight. Whisking away the soul of a Sanzo from Heaven had not been in the original game plan, but neither had mortal opposition either. Mortals who were so unstable no less, that had not been something she counted on. So she had to make adjustments here and there, tell her cohorts to prepare the husk for when she came back down to the Heights and once she was there, they would have the rebuilt body waiting for her. In the possible likelihood that the demoness would decide to start raising warriors in order to create further chaos, she had already instructed Ni to work on a process to have inhabitable bodies dredged up and made ready on a whim. This would be the first instance they would put it to use. She gave him kudos for knowing where to find the exact remains and quickly at that, but Ni was always good at getting where he wanted to be in a flash.

Sauntering into Ni's lab, Anesidora took a moment to look over the rebuilt form. A lot of artificial tissue had to be manufactured as well as a new skin for the most part but all in all, it looked exactly like the man from Kouryuu's dream, just more gaunt and dead looking. It would do.

With Ni and his assist watching on the side, she stood at the head of the work table and drew the Magic Jar dangling at her side up. Her long fingers gripped the handle and pulled the lid off, revealing something flickering dimly inside which she seized in her hand before it even decided to fly away. Souls could be tricky like that. Crushing it in her hand and looking as if she had set it on fire, she pulled her other hand back and funneled black energy into the burning soul. Death knights were the stuff of horror stories, harbingers of death and whirlwinds of hellfire. They spread devastation and disease and left ash in their wake. Some with more revelry than others, but not all of them were evil beings. They had to be made that way, and that was what she had to do here. Koumyo Sanzo might not want to cooperate, but she would make him, one way or the other. Anesidora smirked as she channeled the tainted, burning soul into the body and proceeded to animate it with a short, dark chant :

"The hour had set on your life,
your last flame and final beath.
Now let everything burn and rot,
time to rise and shine as a knight of death."

The last bit of essence disappeared into the construct which came to life as soon as her ritual was finished. They watched the withered hands rise and twist in the air for inspection. Since that part was done, the vulpine demon nodded at the others. She would leave him to their handling while she headed back for her chambers. Now that the case with Sanzo's master was dealt with, it was time to deal with the brat now.

After she had left the dream, she had proceeded to masterfully plan out how the course of the nightmare would go. She planned on pouring every conceivable bit of energy into feeding the realistic properties of the nightmare. She didn't want him trying to dismiss it let alone run from it. Every drop of blood would be felt and smelled, every biting word would cut like a knife, every bruise would ache, every sound would pierce his ears and then his brain. By the time the whole ordeal was over, she would be quite exhausted from all the power put into the play, but content. If it didn't kill him, it would certainly leave him torn to some extent.

'I don't care how smart and resilient that little stain thinks he is...He'll be laid bare and torn apart.'

Going after his friends had been something she considered, but they could always come later. Despite his claims that they would not fall for her mind tricks so readily, she was very confident that they would get twisted up in the nightmares she could lay out for them. The other three had their fair share of weaknesses. The water sprite had his heritage and his broken family. The demon slayer had the loss of his love and his blood stained soul. The monkey had his prison and the fear of infinite, cold loneliness. Sanzo? He had lost the one person he cared for most and had made the mistake of coming to care for others, he liked to pretend he didn't and keep them at arm's length...

Anesidora smirked to herself. She could understand to a degree. To hold someone close was asking for trouble, but the only failing in that was if you yourself were the failure to protect it. In which case, Sanzo was a failure at least once before, and most likely did not want another instance of it. "I wonder, what is the greater pain? To live your life alone here and now to avoid the potential pain of loss down the road or to live your life content in the present and possibly suffer in the future? If he's so worried about what will eventually come to pass, then I'll show him what will happen and just how badly he'll flop if he's so earnest on carrying out the wishes of Heaven." She would show him how merciless she and her cohorts would be with his companions at the very least and she would have him sit back, unable to stop it all and watch. She would let him know...It was his fault, because he didn't listen to reason and because he was a miserable failure. If he didn't believe her, then he would most certainly listen to him.

Entering her chambers, she paused in her musings to start preparing. While she could simply lie down and invade his sleep, in order to put all of her power into this particular nightmare she would need to prepare. As with raising a death knight, orchestrating such a horror show took a ritual of it's own in a way. Drawing a five pointed star in a circle on the floor, she placed a gem of power at each point. On and off throughout the past few months, she had funneled energy into each to store in reserve. This had not been what she planned to use them for, but it was as good a time as any. Once everything got started, she would proceed to channel all of the energies into the play. As she moved to stand in the center, she smirked with absolute wickedness.

All she had to do now was wait. When the insolent monk finally took to his bed and went to sleep, when his dreams began, she would be ready to pounce. Subtly, carefully, and then the real hell would be unleashed in ever growing waves of intensity. Unlike when she invaded his dream, she was coursing with excitement. This was the territory she reveled in...

[Houmei the Hateful]

When he had been in Heaven, he had been enjoying a nice bit of...well, nothing much really. Heaven was rather droll and uneventful. It didn't seem much of anything really went on up there much to his dismay. The only upside was that old friends were also up there, so that kept it from being lonely at least. However, what he found a more favorable pasttime was observing. In particular, he tended to observe his Kouryuu to see how he was doing.

Initially he had felt some concern considering the dark path the boy walked but all in all he seemed to turn out just fine really. The boy had become a rather grumpy young man, if not quite withdrawn. But all was well.

At least until he seemed to have a visitor of sorts.

Who...wound up capturing him in a jar.

Well, that did not bode well.

Eventually he came to learn how well it did not bode when the jar was reopened and he felt drawn back out. A burning sensation consumed him out of no where, leaving him uncomfortable and in terrible pain. It was followed by something else, a dark, twisting energy. He could feel it seep through all the wounds burned into his soul by the unholy fire. Lastly, he felt a strange pressure close in around him before he felt...whole. To some degree anyway. It almost felt as if...

Caramel colored set in white gone black eyes opened by just a bit as he processed everything around him. This was significantly different then being in Heaven or even from when he was alive. He felt raw from the abuse he had suffered shortly before and rundown. Slowly, he lifted his hands to get a good look and for a moment his eyes widened even further as he saw the wilted claws of what had once been human hands. That certainly was not a good sign. Frowning as his eyes slowly closed back into the seemingly closed look he often had them, Koumyo lifted his head slightly and started to look around the laboratory he found himself in.

His senses were starting to come to, slowly but surely and some strength from something unknown was starting to flood into his system. Another unusual thing started to rise in him. Fear. Koumyo felt scared and for a just reason. He was coming to realize what had been done to him in this strange place and he didn't like it. He wasn't sure where he was, even as some part of his mind started calling out for some sort of aid. It wasn't likely Kouryuu could hear him, but he could always hope.

Eventually his sights came to rest on the good doctor standing off to the side in his long white coat with the bunny tucked under his arm. Despite the disheveled hair and the ridiculous clothes, Koumyo recognized him instantly. His face was not a face so readily forgotten. "Ukoku...What have you done?"

[Dr. Ni Jianyi]

If there was one thing besides the wealth of opportunities granted to him for working with her, there was also the benefit of some dark education. Ni liked to consider himself her pupil in a way. When she had some dark ritual to perform or cast some sort of spell, she usually did it with his presence around and he was an avid student who took notes. Whether that was intentional or not, he couldn't tell and to be honest he didn't care.

Now, a rare chance to see necromancy at work had presented itself and he was there in all eagerness to observe. He deserved that much at least, considering he was the one that had to go and retrieve the broken remains. The old temple had been left in scorched ruins years ago. It's stores had been raided a long time ago of artifacts and the cemetary itself had seen better, untouched days. But as if on some whim of the Gods, Koumyo's grave site had been untouched and ripe for the plunder.

"This should be most interesting..."

His dark eyes bore into the Magic Jar she had in hand. He had heard about what it could do but he was curious as to how it would work. Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, he watched as she extracted the trapped soul and proceeded to incinerate and corrupt it before placing it in the shell on the work table.

Ni's attention shifted from the mistress to the undead figure that started to assess the situation. There was no regret for the things done, it all provided him with some wonderful data. Besides, now he had more entertaining company than the pissy feminist next to him. She was great for a laugh, but one could only take a slap oh so many times.

Ignoring the questioning look from Hwang when he was addressed by his old name, the scientist smiled in a friendly, lazy manner. He approached the table, looking over the wilted figure. "I did what I could with the time alotted. Perhaps over time, we can work to fill you out just a little more." Purposely, he avoided the first question that his old friend had muttered. To be honest, he did not have a proper defense for Koumyo's question. His reasons were entirely his own and they would not be satisfying for the other man. So he skirted around the issue. "You now work for the mistress, my old friend. And I suggest you take your new job a little more seriously then your last."

[Houmei the Hateful]

That would be just like him to avoid giving a straight answer, much less directly acknowledge his question. Ukoku had always been a strange one anyway, just like himself. Neither of them had really been cast from the mold of normalcy, but more like molded with the leftover bits. Still, Koumyo had never really pegged his old friend as the type who would have a hand in such deplorable acts. 'Then again, given his penchant for secretiveness, I wonder if I lack the knowledge of half of what he would put his hands in...'

The fear had not subsided in the least even as a familiar face drew near and spoke to him. The feeling of being immensely uncomfortable in his revived skin did not help. His claw-like hands curled into fists as he continued to frown deeply at Ukoku.

Who was the mistress? Had it been the woman he had caught out the corner of his eye on her way out? It didn't seem to be the other, haughty looking one. She had more of an air of grievous annoyance than authority. He wasn't sure who the mistress was and he certainly could not understand what she wanted with him. He had been gone for well over a decade, what was the point to raising him as some undead now? The more he questioned it, the more his logic pointed at Kouryuu. And it pointed at his former student with a vengeful ire that he never knew was in him. Apparently, some part was blaming this ordeal on him, among other things.

'That's not the case, it's hardly his fault...' Koumyo tried to argue back, fighting with the black anger inside of him now. Before, he had always masterfully stamped out said anger but for some reason it was now raging and out of control, looking for opportune moments to flare up and act out.

Bowing his head down, he tried to kneed his brow but wound up leaning back with a grimace. That did not feel good. The anger rose to a new height as he swung his bony legs over the side of the table and jumped to his feet right in front of the scientist. His claws grabbed the front of his coat and dragged him close with a hard yank. Koumyo's eyes were opened and his face was anything but his happy and carefree expression. He now wore one of intense fury, "Did you think I would be happy to live like this and go along with whatever twisted nonsense you morons decided to drag me into? Hm?! I should cut your heart out with a spoon and feed it to you!"

Sudden surprise crossed his face as his eyes returned to looking like the were closed. Wow, where did that come from? Oh, right. He was mad. Koumyo let go of Ni's jacket sheepishly. "Eh...That isn't good. I should have more control." Apparently, this demon mistress must have overridden his resolve. What an inconvenience.

[Dr. Ni Jianyi]

"You're taking this much worse then I expected." Actually, Ni had expected him to take it hard, it was just debatable how he would feel. Koumyo was undoubtedly mad, but was he scared? Was he sad? He had never seen the man as anything other than painfully cheerful and rarely serious. The idea of his old friend feeling fear and rage was something else.

Being unfamiliar with undead, it wasn't hard to figure it was probably the worse kind of Hell. Of course, mortal creatures lived in bodies that succumbed to the decay of time and wore down as it was, but they were still alive, blood pumping through their systems. They were warm and flexible. What was it like to be in a body that was already rotten to the core and borderline unusable? Could they feel the supernatural energy course through dry and hallow veins? Unable to eat, unable to drink, most likely unable to feel pleasurable things, always cold while their joints felt agonizingly stiff. Their minds were most likely a whirlwind of anger, depression, jealousy and vengefulness. They came to hate the living for what they couldn't have. So would Koumyo hate him? Hate Kouryuu? Such interesting questions.

"I can see that..." It might not so much be Anesidora's influence that had removed the older man's restraint but it was most likely the whirlwind of negativity deep down that caused him to lash out. The Minus Wave most likely didn't help matters any better. The poor bastard was in for the worse ride of his life and he would not be enjoying a bit of it. Ni had wondered if some part of him would feel guilty, to which he realized he really didn't. He didn't feel guilty in the least so far as he could tell.

'I wonder, Koumyo, which of us is more dead then the other...'

Straightening his wrinkly jacket, Ni waved for him to follow, leading him over to a table with an array of clothing items and armor. While Koumyo set about clothing himself, he would explain his job to him. Anesidora had made it clear that he was to be briefly briefed and then kicked out to go do what he was meant to. He had almost been inclined to argue with her that the wishy-washy man would not be the most intelligent choice to trust with a Sin unit but she didn't seem to care much. Sometimes he wondered whether Koumyo and Anesidora would get along, considering their shared lack of absolute seriousness. Oh well, he wasn't here for success. It was for the ride and the data.

"The mistress has brought you back as what she refers to as a Death Knight. Basically, your job is to destroy." The dark man smiled eerily at him. His hand slipped into his coat pocket, pulling out a small gold bug. Actually, it looked like a strange combination of a scarab beetle and a frog that sat in the middle of Ni's palm. It was half the size of the DSL unit, which had been the first of many prototypes. Over the course of his engineering, he had succeeded in making them smaller and more potent. "Also...This is the DSA unit. Your primary goal is to set about finding a powerful warrior and make sure this gets in them. You don't really need to concern yourself with why or how. One of the strongest warriors in this world lives in West City at Capsule Corporation by the name of Vegeta. He should do just fine."

Once Koumyo was dressed, he seized the man's wrist and plopped the bug into his palm, covering it with his own. He settled his old friend with a chilling smile. "Let's hope you're now more inclined towards violence then you were before. And I wouldn't recommend purposely failing, she won't find that amusing in the least." With that said, he let go and turned away, heading back to his desk.

[Houmei the Hateful]

Really now? He was curious as to what Ukoku thought his reaction would have been. Just because he had been laidback when alive, didn't mean he would lie back and smile about being some manner of abomination. Again his anger swelled, but this time he succeeded in keeping it in check, if only to keep from giving Ukoku any sort of satisfaction. Sure, most men didn't feel satisfied with having their hearts cut out, but he wouldn't put it past Ukoku to.

Quietly, he followed him towards the other table where he had a selection to make as to what he would wear. At least they gave him that much choice. As if some subtle jab at him, there was even a set of robes almost identical to that of a Sanzo. He didn't have to ask if that was intentional or not, considering the company he was in. Staring at the robes, Koumyo shook his head. "My right to my title died when I did...And it certainly would not do to take it up again like this, so I suppose I will have to fall back on my old name." That would be for the better anyway, perhaps then it would make it easier for Kouryuu to put the bullet in his head later on.

Donning an ensemble of black, he slipped the oriental style tabard over his head to rest on his shoulder before tying a wide sash around his waist. Then after that, he put on a set of spiked arm and legguards before slipping on a pair of sandal. In many ways, he looked very much like a warrior monk. It would do. A nod to what he used to be and what he was now. As he adjusted his gloves, he listened as Ukoku explained his new purpose.

'Or rather, the purpose they intend for me...' Koumyo didn't want to destroy anyone or anything. His sights settled on the bug in his former friend's hand. A miscalculation if he ever saw one and he was sure Ukoku thought so too. 'I may not be able to strike back directly, but there are other ways to interfere.'

His arm stiffened when it was gripped and his fingers twitched as the tiny bug was placed in his hand. Even though his eyes looked closed, he was glaring at Ukoku spitefully nonetheless. Yes, he felt the desire to inflict harm, but he wasn't sure if he could truly bring himself to it outside self-defense. He couldn't see himself lashing out and chasing down innocent people for some deranged slaughter. It was unsettling though, that they seemed to already anticipate that he would bring about his own end like he had before. Resisting the urge to crush the device, his head turned slightly to watch the dark man wander off.

"Hm...What's to become of me, I wonder." Koumyo, no, Houmei would cooperate for now, to a degree and until the opportune moment at least. He'd not only figure out a way to hamper their plans, but he'd also find a means to undo this curse. Even if it was possibly at the hands of the last person who would willingly gun him down. 'Kouryuu...'

[Genjo Sanzo]

Orin Temple
Quarters of the Head Priest, Toua Genjo Sanzo the 31st

The infamously short-tempered priest sat on the edge of his bed, his violet eyes distant as he stared down at his hands. A lit cigarette rested in his lips, almost spent.

A soft sigh escaped him as he ran his fingers through his hair. It had been a longer day, made longer by the fact that he hadn't slept all that much. His time in meditation was spent trying to discern about their foes, or trying to deal with the monks who were, as he had predicted, in a frenzy over the 'earthquakes' and the demoness from yesterday. Actually they were just up in a frenzy over anything that wasn't human and pretty.

To make things even better... He knew what was coming. Lifting his gaze to the window, he stared hard at the moon before pulling the cigarette stub out of his mouth and snuffing it on the ashtray that was always by his bed.

No avoiding it. Let's get this over with. Laying back, he let his head hit the pillow as he stared up at the cieling, resting one hand on his chest. For a long moment he stared blankly above him before finally closing his eyes.

After a few long moments of restlessness, his breathing deepened and he fell into an uneasy sleep...

[Anesidora The Wicked]

If Sanzo was expecting fire and brimstone and all of the cliche tacky shit that normally came with most freaky orchestrated nightmares...

He would be sorely disappointed.

That might come in the later phases when shit really hit the fan. Anesidora planned on going in slow and steady...Then the mental pounding would get much rougher before she really tore into him. She wanted to giggle to herself if she hadn't adopted such a concentrated focus. It sounded vaguely like rape.

No, this dream began rather innocently. In fact, it started the same way his dreams normally did. There was the field of vibrant green grass that swayed lazily in an unusually realistic breeze. It was likely that if Sanzo didn't know any better and he most likely did, it was like he was really outside. There were smells as well. Warm summer air, sweet and pungent flowers. Every sound could be accounted for, from the rustle of grass blades to even the subtle crinkle of an orange paper air plane that glided by overhead.

As always, there was Koumyo, sitting in all his living glory yet he was now sitting on the ledge of the temple terrace. Instead of rolling hills, they were at the old temple well before it went in a blaze of despair after Sanzo's departure. Everything was swept and orderly, the leaves had been raked up and shuffled away. The older man puffed on his cigarette holder, smoking brazenly as ever with a sake serving set at his side. His expression was one of calm and relaxation, the cheerfulness was dialed down a degree and replaced by some thoughtfulness.

With no fox present at his side or anything else suspicious anywhere to be seen, the elder Sanzo let out a content sigh before pulling his cigarette holder from his lips to sip of the sake he had with him. Several neatly folded orange paper air planes sat in his lap as it seemed he was quite busy with one of his favorite pastimes. Once one got closer, the scent of his cigarette smoke would be discernible. Something thick and heady, with the faintest touch of sweetness.

[Genjo Sanzo]

He wasn't sure what he expected. The dream started off innocently, a scene that was rather familiar to him. Green grass blowing gently from an errant wind, the sweet scent lingering in the air, touched by the warm scent caused by the sun, and the heady scent of wildflowers blooming somewhere. The sun felt warm to him as his violet eyes searched the landscape.

A shadow caught his attention, causing him to lift his gaze upwards, watching an orange plane soar through the sky, caught on the updrafts caused by the warm air rising from the ground. The color of the paper plane was so startling against the azure sky that he felt it was almost real itself.

But he knew it was a dream. He knew he was asleep back in his quarters, wearing the black undershirt and arm guards, and a pair of jeans. A glance down at himself revealed the creamy robes with the bamboo breastplate and the Maten Sutra draped neatly over his shoulders, as though nothing was wrong. His hands were tucked into his sleeves, and a cigarette rested in his mouth.

This is far too real for one of my dreams.

Almost dreading what he would see, but hiding it, the blond man turned to see...

Koumyo, on the temple's terrace, like nothing had ever changed. The older priest seemed thoughtful as he smoked his own cigarette through the long-stemmed holder, only pausing to take a drink of the sake next to him.

No fox anywhere...

But that didn't mean she wasn't here. Keeping his guard up, the younger Sanzo priest strode forward, violet eyes watching the calm elder. Once he was close enough, he paused, giving an honorable bow. Just because it was a dream didn't mean he couldn't show respect to the one person who had meant everything to him in his life.

"You hit a good breeze on that one, Master Koumyo."

[Anesidora The Wicked]

It amused her, that there was some faint touch of dread. It was likely he was feeling more then he might be letting on. Her nose scrunched up as her tongue sticked out between her teeth, brows furrowing down over closed eyes. This was going to be so much fun!

Koumyo seemed initially so caught up in his quiet, stoic reverie that it took him a moment to fully register that Sanzo was there. The man stared at him, as if blankly for a second while the other priest bowed. Then his shoulders seemed to slump and his head lowered, at first looking as if he were bowing in turn but actually it was a gesture that suggested he had resigned himself to something unpleasant. If the gesture didn't convey that, his words most likely would.

"Woe is me, if ever there was to be a plague that came to me, it would be you..."

That...was probably unexpected. It was incredibly rare for the man to say anything particularly mean towards the one he had taken in as a pupil and son. His tone didn't even seem all that familiar with him, as if he were referring to someone that wasn't there with him. But in all actuality, that had been meant for the blond haired monk that had bowed before him.

"I suppose I can't be rid of you that easily, even in death. Well then, have a seat if you must."

Since the mildy hurtful invitation was sent out, Koumyo returned to his fun. Holding the black piece of fine workmanship that tended to his cigarette between two of the fingers of his left hand, he reached down and picked up another air plane with his right. Once a decent breeze whispered through, he gave it a good toss, letting the paper-made wings take flight. The second breeze was not nearly as good as the previous one, so he blamed the bad omen that had decided to grace his presence. "Mm..." His face twitched in vague irritation but relaxed back into calmness.

Placing the tip of the stick in his mouth, the elder priest puffed on it in a sulking manner as if he were very disappointed with the result of the second plane. He tucked his hands into his sleeves and slowly looked from where the plane had glided down to the earth to look at Sanzo, his expression not yielding much of anything at the moment there as he seemed to study him for what would probably feel like the first time.

[Genjo Sanzo]

The words took a moment to fully hit the priest. Almost incredulously, disbelief flashing across his face, he lifted his gaze to stare at his elder for a long moment. But the expression on the older man's face, as well as the tone that he had used...

Sanzo straightened up, staring at him for a long moment, violet eyes studying him. The next set of words wasn't all that much better then the first, and took him by surprise. In all his memories, even in all of his nightmares, Koumyo had never spoken to him like that. There had always been that shadow of dread that had made him wonder if Koumyo looked down on him in the afterlife in disappointment, but that was to be expected. Everyone had their regrets.

What the hell is going on...?

It's got to be one of the tricks set up by that bitch.

It didn't stop him from feeling a stab of pain. It felt so damn real... One hand clenched, but he tried to calm himself, his violet eyes narrowing, trying to hide the pain there.

"Have I done something to wrong you, Master Koumyo?" Sanzo asked gravely.

[Anesidora The Wicked]

"Mm, shall I count the ways? Honestly, my boy, the fact that you don't realize it yourself is a wrong in itself." Koumyo chuckled wearily, acting as if the conversation had become suddenly tiresome.

"You've yet to reclaim the Seiten scripture which I entrusted to you as well as the Maten...After roughly a decade or so? Give or take a few years." So the list began, all the while Koumyo would pause and take a sip of sake now and then. "Instead of doing anything particularly worthwhile, you left a trail of corpses in your wake. You set loose a particularly dangerous demon, you spared the life of another responsible for killing well over a thousand demons on top of the human masses of the village he came from...But I daresay, the crowning achievement is your keeping company with a mongrel whore. Ah, you also killed Shuei though I suppose that could not really be helped. All...quite disturbing for me to sit back and observe from above. I did a great deal of head shaking over the years, you've no idea."

The older man's eyes were now open slightly and regarding with an expression of regret and the faintest hint of disgust. His mouth was turned down in a somber frown as he looked at his pupil. "Sometimes I wonder, whether your parents had the right idea of it. Perhaps it would have all been for the better had I left you to the river's whim because you certainly are quite the little curse." Perhaps Kouryuu would have died as his parents probably expected, or perhaps he would have wound up in someone else's care. There was no telling.

Koumyo shook his head, lips curving in a trademark smile as if he were starting to feel cheerful again. Now that he was done metaphorically eviserating Sanzo, he seemed to be in a much better mood. "Well, I feel better having gotten that off my chest. Quite theraputic." There was no apology for his harsh words, let alone any assurances that Kouryuu still held some place close to his heart. It was basically like dropping an incredibly unpleasant gift in someone's lap, telling them where they could painfully shove it and walking away with a merry whistle and a skip in their step.

"Considering your penchant for failure, I believe this mission that the Aspects have placed on your incapable shoulders will come to an ill end." Koumyo sighed in dread, lowering his head slightly. "Speaking of...I now recall the latest and greatest way you've done me wrong..."

[Genjo Sanzo]

This might be a dream, but it was the biggest kick to the nuts that he had ever experienced.

Each and every word hit him hard, like a slap to the face, like a knife twisting into his gut, adding to guilt that was already there. Everything that Koumyo spoke of was something that had already crossed his mind over the years, sometimes a handful of times, sometimes a dozen times a day. His fists clenched in the shadowed safety of his robes as shame, guilt, and rage raced through his mind. And to top that off, there was a lovely wave of dark helplessness threatening to course through him, almost making him want to give up.

He's right. What the hell have I done? I should have been searching for the Seiten this entire time... Instead, he was keeping company with three demons that even he himself had held doubts about, wondering if it was really safe to be in their company.

And Shuei... That was low, but hit so fucking hard. He had held no choice. He had tried to save Shuei and in the end had been forced to free him through the dark embrace of death. But wasn't it his fault anyways? If he hadn't left the Temple, would everyone still be alive? Or would it have still fallen? He should still never have abandoned them all...

The young priest actually flinched at the mention of his parents, tearing his eyes away from his mentor to look away, pain flashing through his eyes. It was still the voice of Koumyo saying that he should have left him to float and eventually drown that kicked him the hardest. He wasn't even sure if he would ever fucking care about his biological parents, though the pain of an orphan still lingered with him. To him, the only parent he had ever needed had been Koumyo.

... Until he had been kicking him while he was down and out. And then to add to that... Doubts about the mission that had been placed upon him by the Aspects. There was something he knew he should be remembering, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember what it was. It was the nature of dreams, however, that his mind could not grasp what it needed to.

It's just a fucking dream, Genjo... You have to remind yourself of that.

For a moment, his eyes closed as he tried to recover himself. A thousand thoughts were flashing through his mind.

It's not like I haven't tried to recover the Seiten Sutra. I searched for years before arriving in the Orin Temple, where the Aspects ordered me to stay until they deemed my eyes 'alive' enough to see it. Maybe that's not an excuse, but I still have searched. Though just how dead are my fucking eyes? Goku cannot help what he is. I don't know why he was imprisoned, but as long as that damned diadem is in place... He's just another kid. The Three Aspects were the ones that ordered me to bring Gonou in alive, and it was their call that allowed him to be 'reborn' as Hakkai. And Gojyo... I don't care if he is a 'mongrel', or a 'pervert'. The last thing he is, is a whore. And a thousand times more honest then dozens of other purebloods.

His eyes opened, the pain evident in the violet orbs, but a hardened wall of emotions around that pain now as he steeled himself, preparing for whatever else would be thrown at him.

This isn't Koumyo. I have to remember that. This. Is. A nightmare.

But it was hard to shake that familiar voice basically saying that he wish Kouryuu had drowned in the river all those years ago.

"And what would this latest, greatest failure be, Master Koumyo? Did I somehow cast an ill wind under one of your planes?"

..... Where the fuck had that come from?

[Anesidora The Wicked]

"That in itself is a pretty terrible crime. But no, it's something much more significant..."

Koumyo's tone had taken on a much more ominous and foreboding light. With a slight, mock bow, he rose to his feet and turned away to ascend the steps leading onto the temple terrace. The tray of sake was left behind, as were the paper air planes that seemed to have grown dim in their former vibrancy.

The scenery around them seemed to dark and grow dull, and before either of them knew it, transformed into the scorched remains of a once peaceful and vibrant temple. Torn bodies of monks who had been mauled by youkai now littered about the area, as did the charred bones of the bodies that had been devoured by wayward flames. The air stunk of scorched wood, boiled blood and burned flesh. It was quite nauseating...Koumyo glanced about for a moment, a deep frown on his face as he covered the lower portion of his face from the smell. He seemed to be thinking before it came to him and he turned back to his pupil. "Ah, yes. The temple had been ravaged and these poor monks slaughtered. Unfortunately, you were not here to aid them...Of course, had you been, they would have stolen the Maten scripture. I've yet to determine what would pose the bigger loss..." He sighed regretfully.

"Well, I will show you the greatest wrong you've done me. But first I have to get into make-up. Besides, I think one of your friends requires your assistance. The...mutt, I believe? Yes, I think that's the one."

Turning away again, Koumyo opened the door before him, sliding it to the side. From Sanzo's vantage point, he would likely make out the silhouettes of machinery in the darkness within and the several lights flickering on the metallic panels. If he wound up getting close enough, the smells of several chemicals would waft out during the brief time the door had been opened.

But what had to be the more alarming detail was the distant screaming for help that was bound to sound painfully familiar to the monk. However as soon as Koumyo stepped into the building, he slid the door shut, cutting off the noise and leaving the outside terrace to it's haunting silence with Sanzo as it's lone companion.

[Genjo Sanzo]

In particular flash of insight, Sanzo realized that things were just beginning. A knot of dread had taken residence in his gut, coupled with the knowledge that this time, the demoness meant business.

I have to remember that this is, in the end, a dream. No matter how real it seems, it is only a dream. To think otherwise is to fall into her trap.

That didn't stop his head from turning to watch the painful figment of his dreams, violet eyes hard. The next blow, he knew, would be hard. He started to step forward, to follow Koumyo-

And reeled back from the smell of sick, rotting flesh. One hand rose immediately to cover his nose and mouth as his eyes widened, taking in the burnt, charred, and bloated bodies, twisted in agony, hands reaching out for help that never came. The faces that weren't completely mauled or scorched were twisted in agony, fear, and a deep hatred for the help that should have been there, but was absent. Every body was something he could recognize, the identities strong in his mind.

They had teased him, taunted him, mocked him, and threatened to dump him in the river that he came from. But he had never wished this on them. He would never wish this on anyone. A holy site, a place of hope and prayer, destroyed by the youkai that came. And the monks never stood a chance.

I could have saved them... I could have saved them...

The thought repeated through his mind before his head snapped up to stare hard at Koumyo. The words were yet another slap in the face and kick to the balls, but the second part, after his regretful sigh, perplexed the younger priest. What did he mean, get into make-up? The sick feeling was rising in his gut, but was second to the surge of-

Fear? Yes. Fear for his companion. Despite how much he growled and threatened them... They were his friends, his family. The door to the charred temple open, and what lay behind it wasn't what it was supposed to be. Strange machinery? Lights? And what was that.... An errant breeze had brought a scent over to his nose, perfumed by the burnt bodies and charred wood. ... Chemicals? What-

The screaming, however, caused Sanzo's eyes to widen. His dream self lunged for the stairs, grabbing onto the railing and taking the steps almost three at a time. The door shut with a resounding click before he could reach it, leaving him in silence, though he knew that screaming that loud, he should hear from the outside as well.

The belly of the beast...

Silence hung in the air behind him as he warred with himself, bracing himself. The faces of the monks, the burnt bodies, were fresh in his mind, and he cast a glance about him, lips muttering beneath his hand as if saying a silent verse. But it lasted only a second before he found his resolve and threw the door open.