It was midnight in the Temple of the Light, the sun was shining, and the Guru Akiva was smiling up at the man with the gun.
"Go ahead, child. Do it."
The man glanced around. Nobody to see him, tall, trench coat, barrel of the revolver pointed at the serene little monk as he sat, lotus-style, in the pavilion.
"Nothin' personal, old-timer." he managed to grunt. He didn't usually speak to the mark, but this guy, well, he figured the old man deserved an explanation. "The Council wants war, you see. The Temple, yer planet, it's... uh..."
"Sacred. Yes. You need not explain. It is time for such things."
The man scowled. "You want this? Death? War? Destruction of this place?"
The gardens warmed, the sun retched, the midnight clouds waved farewell, the pond still. "All things end." The Guru smiled. "All things burn."
The man shrugged. He was well-paid not to question. He held up the gun. He exhaled. Pulled the trigger.
And all was light, and all was sound.