I do not own Shadow of the Colossus. But if I did, I would not change the ending.

Is she worth it?

The thought echoes in my mind as I drive my sword once more through the giant colossus. Blood coats my hands and the surrounding fur, making it even harder to hold on to my precarious position. I can feel my grip weakening ever so slightly and I know I have to finish this before my strength gives out. I never had to endure hardships like this back home, before this mess began. But I guess it is home no longer, and the only way forward is to strike again into the glowing sigil just a few hand spans out of reach. Have to climb over just a bit more...

Is she worth it?

My hands seize up for just a second, just a second, but that is all it takes for me to tumble from my perch and fall headlong into oblivion. The wind rushes by me, shrieking with all the fury of the Elders when I demanded the sword to correct their mistake. The ground is racing upwards, or perhaps I am racing downwards, which way is up?, and I know if I don't do something soon there won't be anything left of me. Part of me doesn't want to do anything, just let the fall finish the deed, but somehow, whether by luck or fate, a limb breaks my descent. With air whooshing out of my lungs as I feel yet another rib crack under this crazy endeavor, I bite the inside of my cheek and continue on. Now I have to scale this monstrosity all over again...

Is she worth it?

Black blood gushes over my front, my tunic matted to my skin. The vile substance runs foul on my presence, in my hair, in my eyes, in my nose and mouth. The stench is nearly enough to make a strong man keel. If I were not half blind and mad with conviction, I might run from the deed, but the colossus is not dead yet. No, it never seems to be dead yet. I have to keep on plunging this sword into the beast, into skin that parts like overripe fruit, and bleeds in gushing torrents. Why is there so much blood? Surely these creatures cannot hold such copious amounts? And yet it keeps coming and coming, droves and droves. Will I ever be clean?

Is she worth it?

Finally, the final stroke. With a last geyser of life warm blood, the sigil disappears. The sword dulls its shine. The runes fade into obscurity. The colossus falls. Now the fear sets in, for within the gaping wounds I can see the inky tentacles worming their way into existence. Those ropes of darkness that want nothing more than to pull me down, cut me through and entrap me within a world of horrors indescribable. They're steadily growing, inching their way towards me. I know I cannot escape, but I'm staggering away as fast as I can on pure terror. I don't want to be dragged down into that pain again...

Is she worth it?

The darkness zips through the air, over the last few meters that I traveled in blind panic and stake through my heart. An electric shock rips through my veins, freezing my body in place as pain only those chains can bring is all I know, all I am. There is no warrior, no fool on a fool's quest to save a young woman that may or may not want to be saved. There's only the pain, an all encompassing pain that allows for no other thought, no other presence, and an endless darkness...

Is she worth it?

My only coherent thought, and this was a little hazy, before the darkness swallowed me whole, was of a young woman staring out into the woods. The expression on her face was as deep and sorrowful as the sea. And I get the feeling she was looking at me. Then the darkness came, and I knew no more.

Soon enough, I'm waking at the temple and another statue has crumbled to dust. But there are still so many, so, so many, and I feel a blight upon my soul. I gaze upon the maiden, and remember that despairing face. Those haunting grey eyes, pleading for something I couldn't, wouldn't recognize.

Is she worth it?

I used to know...