So… On the first evening, from somewhere, from nowhere, a pebble dropped upon the world.

The streaks of blue flame across the sky seemed to tint the air around them. The sky itself looked red. Red for the blood, their blood, all of the blood his brother had shed. Red for the hatred that bubbled up inside of Vash's throat. Red for the glint in his brother's eye. Knives had stained the grass of their Eden with red. And he was smiling. That bastard was smiling. Grinning like a maniac. "Isn't it beautiful, Vash? A world of our very own."

Night

Our New Home

Janus 1, 0000

The sun had yet to rise on the new planet. The streaks, ships entering the atmosphere, had grown in frequency. It would be beautiful if Rem was here to enjoy it with him. It would be beautiful if people weren't dying up there. Strange. Lying here, so far away from the pain, it was easy to slip into that trap. It was easy to see the beauty. But Knives...Knives saw beauty in death. His smug grin, his bulletproof reasoning only served to frustrate Vash more. But he still couldn't do it. Vash tried to force himself, letting in the memories of the crew and the pain his brother had caused. He could, and indeed, should, drop the rock onto his brother's head and end it here. But Rem's words still echoed through his mind.

"No one has the right to take the life of another".

Sunrise

Our New Home

Janus 1, 0000

"Vash! Take care of Knives".

"That woman did nothing but spout contradictions".

"The ticket to the future is always open".

"I'm just killing the spiders to save the butterflies".

"Keep your vision clear and you will see the future".

"Vash!" He snapped his eyes open. Morning. The first note of humanity's new song. Knives was waving at him. "Let's go!", he said. Reluctantly, Vash slid down the cliff and landed next to his brother. Knives smiled serenely at him. "It's time to go, Vash". The streaks across the sky had stopped. The humans would be waking up now. Slowly, serenely. Later though, they would recognize the struggle ahead of them. Vash felt pity. Knives felt joy.