Disclaimer: Belongs to Ishinomori, not me
Notes: Pre-series, spoilers for 'The Blue Earth'. Sixth in my one hundred Cyborg 009 fics challenge.
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This land is sacred to him. Long ago, it had been sacred to them, too.
He wishes he could pinpoint an exact moment when things changed, when his people became more concerned with lining their pockets with money than keeping their home safe from those who would ruin it. Then, maybe, he could have done something. But no, it happened so slowly even he didn't realize what was wrong until it was too late. First, it was one or two jewelry shops that were a hit with the tourists. Then more shops selling more things, then they had enough money to build a casino, and then more of those until he woke up one morning and realized his home had been replaced with cheap things and cheaper people.
He tried stopping them. He tried to change their minds, and almost succeeded with a few, but in the end it was all for nothing. He should have known if there were those who were willing to forsake their homes, their identities for profit, they also would have no qualms with trying to stop a troublemaker permanently. He just didn't want to believe any of his people could do such a thing.
Somehow, he's still alive. His wounds will heal, but the scars will remain.
Now all that's left is the choice: leave the land he loves more than anything, or stay and try to stop them until they finally do kill him, and his body returns to and replenishes the earth so they can build another casino on it.
"Forgive me," he whispers to the mournful spirits as he begins to walk away.
This land is sacred to him. But it's not his land anymore.