Torn before his final fight with Heihachi, Kazuya Mishima, the cold-blooded oppressor, lands in the streets of Brockton Bay, ending up fighting Lung before Taylor can.
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Kazuya vs Lung! The Dragon and the Devil (1)
1
"Quite the location you've picked to die." Kazuya declared coldly.
His voice, though it hid a burning hatred, was the only thing cold in this place. The magma was rising towards the volcano's opening. The ambient temperature was overwhelming even wearing only his white karate pants, red foot protectors and gloves. But Kazuya could withstand that and more.
He had lived in the hellfire for decades. From the moment that man threw him off the cliff when he was just a child. The man who emerged from the smoke to answer his challenge.
"I thought it was apt."
Heihachi Mishima. The bastard who brought him into the world. He'd never call him father. That would be the last thing he'd ever do.
They looked at each other, a mere ten meters apart. The fire that burned in their gazes was greater than the flames of any volcano. This was a fight he had waited too long for. It would be the first and last time he would fight this creature. He had already defeated it once, but now he would make things right.
When Kazuya defeated him, he wouldn't settle for throwing Heihachi off the same cliff as poetic justice. He would throw him into the volcano. He would make sure he disappeared from this world. He didn't have the Devil Gene, there was no chance that even a monster like him would survive something like this.
"Let's settle this."
Kazuya frowned even harder. The bodies of both fighters were being charged with energy. The purple smoke of the devil within was rising from his. Heihachi's steel body was surrounded by the crackling electricity that was characteristic of the Mishima's fighting style.
A style that Kazuya himself used. He had no problem using the tools that old geezer had given him to destroy him, just as he had used his company for a while. Besides, he didn't give Heihachi too much credit.
When he thought of his childhood, of his training, what came to mind was the warm evening sun and the protective embrace of Grandpa Jinpachi. A man whom the monster in front of him had locked up like an animal for years, right after taking control of the Mishima Zaibatsu from him unjustly.
Kazuya's rage exploded.
He was doing this mostly for himself, but.... Jinpachi was the only person he respected. As the lava roared and burst through from under the rocks, they broke into a run to meet in the middle.
The man with the Devil Gene who was finally close to exacting his revenge against the real devil. He had to win. He would win, whatever it took.
Heihachi and he threw a punch at the same time....
But they didn't collide.
"What is this?"
His hated ultimate enemy was gone, but not only that. The lava. The rocks. Everything, he wasn't even in a volcano anymore, but on the street of a random city.
What was this, really?
He doubted it was a trick of that fucker. Heihachi could be many things, but not a coward. He had called him to the volcano to try to kill him, not to keep him away. Still, this was inexplicable. Where was he and what the hell had happened?
This could be any city. Transforming and observing the area from above was an option. Kazuya didn't, though not because he didn't want to draw attention to himself. Rather because something else caught his attention. He wasn't afraid of anything or anyone, especially not now that he was on the verge of total world domination.
He was simply confused by what could only be called teleportation, if it wasn't some sort of elaborate illusion. He didn't know what to think.
Kazuya huffed, fed up. Anyway, this had to happen just when he was finally going to get his hands on that bastard's neck. Typical. Luck hadn't been with him in life, he'd had to earn it all bit by bit. With his iron fist.
He walked quietly. Anyone would recognize him, but there was no one outside. Or almost no one. As he rounded the corner, he saw what looked like small-time gangsters and their leader. It was easy to identify him as such since he had no shirt and his face was covered by an iron dragon mask. Perhaps a way to compensate for his poor training.
Not that it took much for thugs to scare civilians. Kazuya smirked, wondering what he thought he was.
"The children, just shoot. Doesn't matter your aim, just shoot. You see one lying on the ground? Shoot the little bitch twice more to be sure. We give them no chances to be clever or lucky, understand?"
He figured by kids he at least meant teenagers, because otherwise so much preparation and support to kill a few kids would be the most embarrassing thing he'd ever heard in his life. Not because of the morality of the act, which he didn't care about, obviously, but because he shouldn't need the help or any more of a plan than stomping on their heads.
Even a gang like that getting together to kill a few teenagers, though, was embarrassing.
Anyhow, the rabble.
Kazuya had no idea what they were called and didn't recognize the leader, which meant he wasn't strong enough to even dream of entering the Iron Fist Tournament, much less winning. He was a nobody.
He walked right on by.
He had no intention of interfering, but then one of those two-bit thugs dared to put a hand on his shoulder.
"I'll only say it once. Take your filthy hand off me."
It wasn't a threat, but a promise.
"What?" It couldn't have been clearer, but the thug was too stupid to realize that he was in front of a superior being. Grabbing the arm of the hand he was holding him with, he flipped the thug over as if he were a child, cracking his back over his knee.
Weak.
Kazuya hadn't even hit him with his full power, though he supposed this was favorable. The agony of their buddy as he writhed on the ground was a clear message to the others. He could deal with them, all of them, whenever he wanted. But he had already wasted too much time here. It wasn't worth wasting a single second more.
Every second Heihachi was still breathing in this world was maddening.
He had to end a three-decade long vendetta today.
If any of them were more than trash, they could prove it in the next tournament. Then maybe Kazuya would deign to fight them.
"Who do you think you are?" the leader asked.
Was it possible that he was so stupid not to know that he was behaving like an arrogant dog in front of the world famous Kazuya Mishima? Kazuya turned around to look at him, with only contempt in his gaze.
That was enough to get the message across.
What I am is someone superior to you, that should be enough for you.
It wasn't enough for him. He was blinded by his pride or perhaps his greed, thinking that his reputation would increase if the rumor spread that he had defeated Kazuya Mishima. He would have to crush the leader for these petty insects to leave him alone.
"You asked for it," Kazuya said.
The gang leader took a step forward.
It would be his last step in this world.
Kazuya moved as fast as a fierce god.
The damned idiot didn't even have time to react to the uppercut, strong enough to launch him into the air.
Leaving a trail of dark blue electricity. In the air he lashed out at him, punching him with blows that could break large boulders. Kazuya finished his assault by launching himself into the air with his right leg forward. The impact of the kick threw that deluded man more than ten meters back against a wall.
He hadn't held back at all, only in the sense that he hadn't transformed in front of this rabble. They didn't deserve it and it wasn't worth it. The leader wouldn't rise again and his minions were trembling, they wouldn't even think of challenging him, which was how they should have behaved from the beginning. He was Kazuya Mishima, not just anyone.
"Did you see that electricity? He has to be a parahuman."
A what? Kazuya frowned deeper. Human"adjacent. He didn't like the term, he was superior, plain and simple. What bothered him most was that he hadn't heard that word. And that these petty thugs hadn't heard of him.
Even now, after seeing him demonstrate his skills and characteristic Mishima style, with lightning-like powerful strikes, human storms, they still wondered who he was. They should know, but clearly they didn't. They were confused and frightened. What's going on here? He wondered, not for the first or last time, for sure.
He didn't like unknowns. Power was everything. Someone who didn't know what was necessary wasn't in control of the situation, didn't have the power.
"He's speaking Japanese and I understand him perfectly," another said. "But I don't know Japanese."
"That's true."
"Neither do I. What a creepy power."
That was even stranger. It was the most normal thing in the world. What were these fools talking about?
A deep chuckle rose in the air. The leader. Not only had he not died, but he had gotten up from the crack in the wall with no trouble. Okay, maybe he wasn't as useless as he had first suspected. Maybe it would serve as a warm"up before he found Heihachi again.
"Lung!"
"Of course he wouldn't fall!"
So relieved. Deluded. Kazuya smirked, watching Lung move towards him. Lung stopped at the proper distance before the start of a fight, as if they were in a tournament match. His laughter died down.
"You... you're strong."
"You haven't seen anything yet."
"You haven't either."
Enough. He was transforming, his body slowly covering himself with metallic scales. Lung, huh? And those tattoos. He thought himself a dragon.
What was a dragon to the devil? He could investigate what kind of power he had obtained, he doubted it was the Devil Gene, after tearing him to shreds. He didn't think he would be a threat, in any case. No matter what.
Kazuya slammed his fists together. Electricity roared, flowing through his arms as soon as his fists made contact. A brief flash, but one that promised peril.
"Enough of this farce."
2
Taylor had been observing the encounter from the top of the building. If she'd brought a throwaway phone, she could have alerted the real heroes to Lung's plan, but since she hadn't there was only one option left that she wouldn't regret.
Or so she had believed.
Then that strange man appeared, dressed like a karateka and completely unafraid. He was a parahuman, obviously, but he didn't care about secret identities, he had used his powers without a costume (assuming he even had one).
Challenging Lung, if only because he'd gotten in his way; with that face and one of his eyes glowing blood red, he didn't exactly look like one of the good guys.
But Taylor had to admit that she didn't look like one either, the way her costume had turned out. Looks were deceiving. Even if he wasn't the best person in the world, at least he was now on the side of good (there were few things as black and white as killing children), and she supposed that was what mattered in the end.
She wasn't prepared to get in the middle of a fight between two parahumans like them, but at least she could lend that Japanese guy a hand. Speaking of which, she was worried about the fact that his powers had affected her too even though she was hiding, since she'd understood him perfectly and she had zero clue of Japanese. But then again, understanding another language without any problems wasn't the worst thing that could have happened to her, not by a long shot, as far as powers that affect the mind were concerned.
Anyway, yes, enough of wasting time thinking about it. There was only one possible path.
Taylor took a deep breath.
Now or never.
Attack.
A determination, an order.
Kazuya Vs Lung! The Dragon and the Devil (1): END
Kazuya vs Lung! The Dragon and the Devil (2)
1
There were few things as intoxicating as the anticipation of a good fight, or at least a decent enough one to pass the time. On that, Kazuya suspected, they could both agree. He might be a nobody, but he lived to fight, he could see it clearly, even through the mask.
Okay, fine. I'll give you the fight you're looking for.
Kazuya sprang into action at the same instant as his opponent, as Lung, as if they had both reacted to an invisible starting pistol, as if they had an agreed signal.
The only signal was the singing killing intent.
Something any fighter worth his salt would understand. They didn't need more than that.
Completely ignoring Lung's minions, Kazuya collided with that beast in the middle of the street. He threw a single punch. As they made contact with the enemy's fist, negating each other, sparks of electricity and fire jumped out.
Kazuya frowned slightly, almost imperceptibly. He didn't like fire. It had been over fifteen years ago now, but he had died after being thrown into a volcano, after all. It didn't matter, it wouldn't change the outcome of the fight, but he didn't like it.
The only thing it would change was that he would seek to end the fight sooner.
He made significant progress with the first blow.
Or so it seemed at first. The force of the impact broke Lung's arm, there was no doubt about that. But he regenerated quickly, the right things snapping back into place thanks to the scales that were growing and covering his entire body, transforming him into something inhuman. He wasn't a carrier of the Devil Gene, but he wasn't normal either. What had they called him, parahuman?
He would investigate everything in due time. When Kazuya broke him, as he had broken all the enemies who had dared to stand in his way so far.
The outcome of the battle was evident.
Lung's transformation was progressing fast, Kazuya's had not even begun. From this it naturally followed that he was the strongest.
There was a more natural and basic logic that also supported his assertion. There was no one stronger than him in the first place. The opposite had never been a possibility. It was that simple.
"DORYA!!!"
The uppercut, charged with electricity, launched Lung into the air, however far the 'dragon' scales had advanced. He rounded off a series of uppercuts, and energetic doryas, with a spinning kick in the air, executed so quickly that his foot connected with the enemy several times before, of course, launching him away.
Far.
Against and through a lamppost, the impact hard enough to rip it from the ground, like a tree at the mercy of a whirlwind.
Kazuya was a human whirlwind, his body an impenetrable steel fortress.
"Dorya what? Why the fuck that doesn't translate? I don't understand... Shit!"
The gang member wasn't expressing frustration at his sudden lack of hearing or his severe brain damage, not being able to understand a simple word. He had been surprised, or rather scared shitless, because suddenly a swarm of bugs had fallen from the sky like one of the plagues of Egypt.
It was interesting. Not dangerous, not worrisome, just interesting. Mind you, Kazuya regretted not having trained a pet, like Heihachi.
Now he could have used a bear trained in the Mishima style, rolling across the ground nimbly, his claws tearing through the swarm like a hot knife through butter. I like butter, he thought. Well. In any case, he could take care of the bugs faster than the hypothetical bear. It just wouldn't be the most meaningful use of his eye laser, a vulgar pest extermination.
So, back to the important stuff.
Lung didn't seem to give a shit about the new arrival either.
To be fair, he hadn't even had time to get off the ground yet. It was all happening so fast, really, but every second dragged on in a life-or-death fight. Even if you didn't fear for your life. It was a peculiar feeling.
Kazuya grabbed Lung's head with one hand, helped him up, in a sense, though just long enough to smash him back into the ground. A crater formed in the blink of an eye, four or five meters deep.
He slammed him into the ground again and again, making the crater deeper, the cracks wider, until he felt something crunch apart from the asphalt.
Not his skull. The mask.
It split in half, sliding off, revealing a feline face and too many teeth. Another effect of the transformation, Kazuya supposed. Lung wouldn't wear the mask to hide his monstrous face, for in the midst of a fight, in the midst of the transformation it would inevitably break.
He grew more scales and became taller.
He would soon reach five meters tall, if he kept it up. Height mattered in a fight, to some extent, the reach. But if he thought that would give him victory, he was a deluded fool.
Lung revealed yet another card up his sleeve.
Exploding. An explosion of fire in waves that swept Kazuya and dragged him far away. Pain traveled through his entire body, from head to toe. He had only felt something like this on the day of his death. Being thrown into the volcano, the pain had awakened him, only too late to escape.
He had sunk into the lava, being consumed, experiencing unimaginable pain.
There was no better place for a devil's rebirth than the flames of hell. Although, ironically, it had been his son who plunged the world into hell. Jin, of all people, who had stood in his way so many times because he was 'evil' and someone 'had to stop him'.
This wasn't a time for rebirth, however, not such a drastic or dramatic attack. It was easy to handle. Kazuya transformed and the flames dissipated instantly, as if he had been sprayed with a fire hose.
He rose into the air, dark wings spread behind him, with a sinister smirk.
Lung looked vaguely surprised. It was only natural, meeting someone he would think had a power like his own. However, Kazuya didn't get stronger with time. He didn't ramp up.
He was already at the top.
"Conceited mutts like you need to be put out of their misery. Reminded of their place in the world."
Lung laughed in response.
Not mocking him. It would be a terrible mistake to mock him, but that wasn't it. Lung was simply elated, knowing that the fight had only just begun, that he could give him a good fight. As Kazuya had thought from the beginning, the man lived for this.
"I'm done playing with you... Die!"
And, like a dark meteor, Kazuya flew towards his enemy.
2
Taylor, still on that rooftop, couldn't help but wonder what she'd done to deserve life in general.
Her mother's death, such an avoidable tragedy. Emma's betrayal, the Trio's constant campaign of harassment.
Finding herself in such a fucked-up situation on her first night in costume. To be fair, she had proven she could handle herself, that while her power wasn't a big deal at least it did some good, scaring off Lung's henchmen, forcing them to flee with their tails between their legs from the swarm.
It wasn't a big deal, but it was something.
But they were Lung's henchmen, of all the villains she could have come across. Where were Uber and Leet when she needed them? Not to mention that other parahuman, unknown, reckless enough not to hide his identity. Not that there was no precedent, but it was easy for New Wave. Endangering your family by revealing your identity didn't carry much weight when every single one of them were superheroes. She wouldn't be able to do that, that was for sure. She didn't see any reason.
That was the least of it, of course.
That Japanese man was strong, with a power similar to Lung's. He had transformed into some sort of demon, with a third eye on his forehead, his skin turning purple, and he had sprouted wings.
All she needed now was Lung giving credence to the rumor that he could sprout wings, matching the stranger.
This all looked bad, but she wasn't optimistic enough to think it couldn't get any worse. The other shoe could drop at any moment, hard, and there was no guarantee that she could save herself when the time came.
To make matters worse, she didn't have many options. Taylor had already had her bugs sting Lung, but soon that wouldn't be in the cards with his body so covered in scales, the gaps disappearing quickly. She feared the chance to defeat him with the venoms and toxins had passed.
Taylor chose to stay anyway, see what she could do, if anything. Some would say she'd done enough, but she couldn't just turn around and walk away.
Taylor shook her head, bracing herself.
"I hope I won't regret this for the rest of my life."
Kazuya vs Lung! The Dragon and the Devil (2): END
There were few things as intoxicating as the anticipation of a good fight, or at least a decent enough one to pass the time. On that, Kazuya suspected, they could both agree. He might be a nobody, but he lived to fight, he could see it clearly, even through the mask.
Okay, fine. I'll give you the fight you're looking for.
Kazuya sprang into action at the same instant as his opponent, as Lung, as if they had both reacted to an invisible starting pistol, as if they had an agreed signal.
The only signal was the singing killing intent.
Something any fighter worth his salt would understand. They didn't need more than that.
Completely ignoring Lung's minions, Kazuya collided with that beast in the middle of the street. He threw a single punch. As they made contact with the enemy's fist, negating each other, sparks of electricity and fire jumped out.
Kazuya frowned slightly, almost imperceptibly. He didn't like fire. It had been over fifteen years ago now, but he had died after being thrown into a volcano, after all. It didn't matter, it wouldn't change the outcome of the fight, but he didn't like it.
The only thing it would change was that he would seek to end the fight sooner.
He made significant progress with the first blow.
Or so it seemed at first. The force of the impact broke Lung's arm, there was no doubt about that. But he regenerated quickly, the right things snapping back into place thanks to the scales that were growing and covering his entire body, transforming him into something inhuman. He wasn't a carrier of the Devil Gene, but he wasn't normal either. What had they called him, parahuman?
He would investigate everything in due time. When Kazuya broke him, as he had broken all the enemies who had dared to stand in his way so far.
The outcome of the battle was evident.
Lung's transformation was progressing fast, Kazuya's had not even begun. From this it naturally followed that he was the strongest.
There was a more natural and basic logic that also supported his assertion. There was no one stronger than him in the first place. The opposite had never been a possibility. It was that simple.
"DORYA!!!"
The uppercut, charged with electricity, launched Lung into the air, however far the 'dragon' scales had advanced. He rounded off a series of uppercuts, and energetic doryas, with a spinning kick in the air, executed so quickly that his foot connected with the enemy several times before, of course, launching him away.
Far.
Against and through a lamppost, the impact hard enough to rip it from the ground, like a tree at the mercy of a whirlwind.
Kazuya was a human whirlwind, his body an impenetrable steel fortress.
"Dorya what? Why the fuck that doesn't translate? I don't understand... Shit!"
The gang member wasn't expressing frustration at his sudden lack of hearing or his severe brain damage, not being able to understand a simple word. He had been surprised, or rather scared shitless, because suddenly a swarm of bugs had fallen from the sky like one of the plagues of Egypt.
It was interesting. Not dangerous, not worrisome, just interesting. Mind you, Kazuya regretted not having trained a pet, like Heihachi.
Now he could have used a bear trained in the Mishima style, rolling across the ground nimbly, his claws tearing through the swarm like a hot knife through butter. I like butter, he thought. Well. In any case, he could take care of the bugs faster than the hypothetical bear. It just wouldn't be the most meaningful use of his eye laser, a vulgar pest extermination.
So, back to the important stuff.
Lung didn't seem to give a shit about the new arrival either.
To be fair, he hadn't even had time to get off the ground yet. It was all happening so fast, really, but every second dragged on in a life-or-death fight. Even if you didn't fear for your life. It was a peculiar feeling.
Kazuya grabbed Lung's head with one hand, helped him up, in a sense, though just long enough to smash him back into the ground. A crater formed in the blink of an eye, four or five meters deep.
He slammed him into the ground again and again, making the crater deeper, the cracks wider, until he felt something crunch apart from the asphalt.
Not his skull. The mask.
It split in half, sliding off, revealing a feline face and too many teeth. Another effect of the transformation, Kazuya supposed. Lung wouldn't wear the mask to hide his monstrous face, for in the midst of a fight, in the midst of the transformation it would inevitably break.
He grew more scales and became taller.
He would soon reach five meters tall, if he kept it up. Height mattered in a fight, to some extent, the reach. But if he thought that would give him victory, he was a deluded fool.
Lung revealed yet another card up his sleeve.
Exploding. An explosion of fire in waves that swept Kazuya and dragged him far away. Pain traveled through his entire body, from head to toe. He had only felt something like this on the day of his death. Being thrown into the volcano, the pain had awakened him, only too late to escape.
He had sunk into the lava, being consumed, experiencing unimaginable pain.
There was no better place for a devil's rebirth than the flames of hell. Although, ironically, it had been his son who plunged the world into hell. Jin, of all people, who had stood in his way so many times because he was 'evil' and someone 'had to stop him'.
This wasn't a time for rebirth, however, not such a drastic or dramatic attack. It was easy to handle. Kazuya transformed and the flames dissipated instantly, as if he had been sprayed with a fire hose.
He rose into the air, dark wings spread behind him, with a sinister smirk.
Lung looked vaguely surprised. It was only natural, meeting someone he would think had a power like his own. However, Kazuya didn't get stronger with time. He didn't ramp up.
He was already at the top.
"Conceited mutts like you need to be put out of their misery. Reminded of their place in the world."
Lung laughed in response.
Not mocking him. It would be a terrible mistake to mock him, but that wasn't it. Lung was simply elated, knowing that the fight had only just begun, that he could give him a good fight. As Kazuya had thought from the beginning, the man lived for this.
"I'm done playing with you... Die!"
And, like a dark meteor, Kazuya flew towards his enemy.
2
Taylor, still on that rooftop, couldn't help but wonder what she'd done to deserve life in general.
Her mother's death, such an avoidable tragedy. Emma's betrayal, the Trio's constant campaign of harassment.
Finding herself in such a fucked-up situation on her first night in costume. To be fair, she had proven she could handle herself, that while her power wasn't a big deal at least it did some good, scaring off Lung's henchmen, forcing them to flee with their tails between their legs from the swarm.
It wasn't a big deal, but it was something.
But they were Lung's henchmen, of all the villains she could have come across. Where were Uber and Leet when she needed them? Not to mention that other parahuman, unknown, reckless enough not to hide his identity. Not that there was no precedent, but it was easy for New Wave. Endangering your family by revealing your identity didn't carry much weight when every single one of them were superheroes. She wouldn't be able to do that, that was for sure. She didn't see any reason.
That was the least of it, of course.
That Japanese man was strong, with a power similar to Lung's. He had transformed into some sort of demon, with a third eye on his forehead, his skin turning purple, and he had sprouted wings.
All she needed now was Lung giving credence to the rumor that he could sprout wings, matching the stranger.
This all looked bad, but she wasn't optimistic enough to think it couldn't get any worse. The other shoe could drop at any moment, hard, and there was no guarantee that she could save herself when the time came.
To make matters worse, she didn't have many options. Taylor had already had her bugs sting Lung, but soon that wouldn't be in the cards with his body so covered in scales, the gaps disappearing quickly. She feared the chance to defeat him with the venoms and toxins had passed.
Taylor chose to stay anyway, see what she could do, if anything. Some would say she'd done enough, but she couldn't just turn around and walk away.
Taylor shook her head, bracing herself.
"I hope I won't regret this for the rest of my life."
Kazuya vs Lung! The Dragon and the Devil (2): END
Kazuya vs Lung! The Dragon and the Devil (3)
Kazuya vs Lung! The Dragon and the Devil (3)
Kazuya delivered another punch to Lung, sending him through the facade of a building. Of course, he cared little for property damage or the well-being of others. His opponent couldn't care less either. Not in the midst of a fight like this. Of course not. No true warrior would be deterred by such trifles!
Kazuya pursued relentlessly. He followed Lung through the dust cloud and the rain of debris. It wasn't that Lung was an exceptionally strong opponent that needed overwhelming, it was just Kazuya's nature. What he sought, what he needed, were absolute and crushing victories.
It wasn't in his nature to hold back under any circumstances. Not even to toy with his food.
He didn't transform for just anyone, but it wasn't because he was holding back. It would be beneath him to display his true power when it wasn't necessary. That's all.
On the other side of the dust cloud...
"This is what happens living in Brockton Bay, damn all my ancestors, if I had the money to move..."
The idiot had energy to complain about his fate, but not to turn around and run. Apparently, he had been watching television. After Kazuya sent Lung flying express to his parlor, he had jumped and turned around. But that was it.
Like he had said before, the damn idiot hadn't moved an inch. Oh well. He cared little, but it was irritating to see people who weren't just weak, but seemed to lack the slightest instinct for self-preservation.
Jun had stood up to him without fear, but she had possessed the strength to back up her arrogance. Strength that he...
Why am I thinking about this now? Whatever. It's useless.
Lung got up from the stairs. That is, what was left of them after he crushed them with his massive body. Smoke billowed from his mouth, literally and figuratively. Dense black smoke seeped between his teeth. His face was feline, and with each passing second, it became more alien.
"You're strong, I have to admit. I don't understand why I haven't heard of someone like you. And why, instead of earning respect and a fearsome reputation, you're leading a gang of small-time thugs. That power is worthless in hands like yours."
"Words are unnecessary."
"You're right, but you want me to shut up because you have nothing to say in your defense. Well, not that I cared anyway. Do me the favor of dying soon. Every second you resist like a worm is a waste of time for me. My enemy is someone much stronger than you."
Lung laughed. As if the idea of someone stronger than him couldn't fit in his tiny brain.
Kazuya launched himself at Lung, flying low. Like a dark star and without hesitating for a second. His opponent wasn't anything out of this world. Taller than most, but that was it.
Lung extended his palms in front of him. Fire burst from his open palms as if they were flamethrowers, and Kazuya rejected the fire as if they were nothing but wax petals in his path. Pushing them aside and extinguishing them with his arms. He had caught him off guard the last time, but that wouldn't happen again. Lung couldn't prevent him from reaching him.
Kazuya grabbed him by the neck and dragged him down the hallway, through the walls, taking the shortest path, the straight line. They ended up outside. Someone whimpered. It was the man from before. Lying on the ground, curled up. Pathetic.
He had no way to fight against what was happening, but that was his own fault. If he was weak, what stopped him from training? Nothing except his own laziness like a worm's. The power of the devil was, of course, overwhelming. But Heihachi had defeated him in the past being a mere human.
Heihachi wasn't a good example of anything, but it's not like he was the only extraordinary normal human. There was Paul, that American. He hated to admit it, but once he had tied with him. And all he had on his side was his willpower and training.
Nowadays, he was a washed-up guy who even lost against bears, albeit bears trained in the Mishima style, but that's another story.
How did he handle Lung? Well, with ease. He had grown, but that only made it slightly more difficult to lift him. Also, spinning him around and throwing him like a frisbee.
His massive body turned a parked car nearby into a very compact metal cube.
"You're a tough sandbag. At least I can commend you for that. But..."
Lung lunged towards him.
He shot fire from his hands and mouth indiscriminately. He seemed to believe that if he couldn't reach him by aiming, then luck would do the job for him. But all he was achieving was destroying the neighborhood. The only thing Lung's fire moved was Kazuya's hair.
More precisely, it was the air displaced by that power discharge, naturally.
"Don't get cocky."
A single punch was enough to knock down the opponent who only looked like a monster. But that was just the beginning, of course. He shot the laser from his third eye. The laser cut through the ground, sending debris flying. The dust raised described the laser's path before the wound on the ground.
When the laser reached Lung, the poor idiot was sent flying. At least ten meters in an instant. Yes. In an instant, Kazuya was there to meet him with open arms, albeit positioned above his head. Preparing a punch like a hammer.
The hammer blow sent Lung back to the ground. He couldn't do anything to dodge it in the air, despite also having wings. Then, he gathered strength in one leg. The torrent swirling around him was like a storm of dark purple. It descended upon the fallen monster like a black star, leg first!
The explosion was blinding, literally. But brief. Lung was still alive, but perhaps not in a condition to fight. Kazuya made his body roll on the ground, kicking it as if it were a garbage bag. It was a figure of speech, of course. He wasn't going to let one of his sneakers come anywhere near a garbage bag. Lung wasn't so different, deep down, but right now, he didn't care. His blood was too hot to worry about anything except the battle.
Kazuya crossed his arms, disdainful. What resembled a smile on his face was also highly contemptuous.
"Is that all you've got?"
He got the answer. No. The answer was no. Although with some difficulty, the monster rose from the ground. Still laughing.
He seemed to believe that this had only just begun.
Kazuya frowned slightly, almost imperceptibly. Maybe he was right.
Of course, he didn't consider him a threat, but perhaps he would serve for more than just a warm-up. Well, there was nothing wrong with that. In fact, he welcomed it! Kazuya had been born into this world to fight. He had never had any other option, anyway. So true opponents against whom he could test himself were always welcome.
The world was very simple. It was divided into those who took advantage of others and the people who were taken advantage of. That's why power was needed. Only power could help you get what you wanted, keep it, and move forward.
Modern civilization did nothing but sugarcoat and disguise that simple truth. Ultimately, everything boiled down to the survival of the fittest. Political power, physical power, mental power. It didn't matter to him. Kazuya wanted it all.
Everything!
That's what Jun never understood... So compassionate, so willing to help everyone, even me. What good did it do her?
She lasted a few years thanks to the steel she hid. She was a wonderful, strong woman. But in the end, she died in a predictable way. If she had the strength to abandon her son, she would still be alive. But she had let herself be carried away by sentiments like "he's my son," as if she couldn't just make another one.
Finally, her virtuous way of living had rewarded her with a horrible death at the hands of Ogre.
Jin had survived, but what good was it to her? She could no longer be with her beloved son whom she had sacrificed everything for, obviously.
The same went for Grandfather Jinpachi. He was a great man. Kazuya would never allow anyone to disrespect him. However, it was the truth.
Betrayed, his company stolen. Buried alive for decades under the temple. A victim of his own power.
The world doesn't reward people like Jun and Jinpachi, but people like Heihachi. People like... Like Kazuya.
As much as the idea made him want to vomit blood, it was simply the truth. Kazuya had learned a lot from his most hated enemy. In the end, he had been his best teacher... But he would make sure he wasn't rewarded either.
He would take his teachings and use them to crush him, to kill him. For that reason...
"Die already. Get out of my way!"
The fight resumed.
Their fists collided. The air trembled. Screams echoed across the ground, and also through their bones. Lung's punch had shattered Kazuya's right arm. He had become stronger.
But Kazuya didn't stop for a second. So what if his right arm was broken? His left one still worked perfectly fine.
As long as he was still alive, still able to breathe, there was no reason to stop or even slow down by a fraction of a second. Pain was just pain. A fleeting sensation he had no control over, an existence above him. And any wound would heal in time.
Most of the time, faster than any opponent expected.
Lung exploded for the second time. The shockwave sent Kazuya flying into a fountain. It shattered, of course. His knees sank into the water. The fountain water extinguished the flames before they even had a chance to spread. He hadn't intended to send him there, of course.
Kazuya stood up. He shook his head as if to say "annoying". Then, he fired the laser from his third eye. Not directly at Lung this time. Not this time. Instead, he aimed at a distant car, causing it to be propelled towards Lung.
The monster split it in half in mid-air, of course. Without even turning around. Big, perhaps. Stupid, not so much.
Unlike the previous car he had reduced to rubble, there was a person inside this one. Not for long, though. They burned simply by falling near Lung. At least their screams were silenced quickly.
Not by Lung himself, but by the flames. The worst pain wasn't the one that made you scream at the top of your lungs, but the one that left you so weak and injured that you couldn't even scream.
It was a death befitting of an insect. People were becoming aware of the battle and fleeing as quickly as possible. Or at least turning off the lights, hiding, and praying for it to end. That guy had simply been unlucky to be chosen by Kazuya, or rather his car, for an attack that had served no purpose.
He had never expected anything different in the first place. So it was a waste in many ways.
It was no wonder that guy had died just by getting close to Lung. He had become the center of a natural disaster. Even the water in the fountain was starting to boil, even though he was still relatively far away. He could see the bubbles rising.
Okay, I'll admit it, at least in my thoughts. You're a worthy opponent. So I'll give it my all. I'll do whatever it takes to make this place your tomb.
Just as he began to appreciate that the swarm of insects had stopped bothering, another annoyance had to arrive. He parked the motorcycle in the middle of the square. He was covered from head to toe in a peculiar armor, mainly blue. He got off the seat and from somewhere pulled out a halberd colored like his armor.
"Enough!"
"I decide when it's enough," Lung said.
"So now you can't talk." What? He was perfectly understandable. What was wrong with the people in this place? "Miss Militia, Assault, Battery, and the rest will be here soon too. You must believe you can handle us again, but you're not the only one who can get stronger. And it seems you're not doing too well against that man."
Kazuya had only one question.
"Who the hell are you?"
Kazuya vs Lung! The Dragon and the Devil (3): FIN
Kazuya delivered another punch to Lung, sending him through the facade of a building. Of course, he cared little for property damage or the well-being of others. His opponent couldn't care less either. Not in the midst of a fight like this. Of course not. No true warrior would be deterred by such trifles!
Kazuya pursued relentlessly. He followed Lung through the dust cloud and the rain of debris. It wasn't that Lung was an exceptionally strong opponent that needed overwhelming, it was just Kazuya's nature. What he sought, what he needed, were absolute and crushing victories.
It wasn't in his nature to hold back under any circumstances. Not even to toy with his food.
He didn't transform for just anyone, but it wasn't because he was holding back. It would be beneath him to display his true power when it wasn't necessary. That's all.
On the other side of the dust cloud...
"This is what happens living in Brockton Bay, damn all my ancestors, if I had the money to move..."
The idiot had energy to complain about his fate, but not to turn around and run. Apparently, he had been watching television. After Kazuya sent Lung flying express to his parlor, he had jumped and turned around. But that was it.
Like he had said before, the damn idiot hadn't moved an inch. Oh well. He cared little, but it was irritating to see people who weren't just weak, but seemed to lack the slightest instinct for self-preservation.
Jun had stood up to him without fear, but she had possessed the strength to back up her arrogance. Strength that he...
Why am I thinking about this now? Whatever. It's useless.
Lung got up from the stairs. That is, what was left of them after he crushed them with his massive body. Smoke billowed from his mouth, literally and figuratively. Dense black smoke seeped between his teeth. His face was feline, and with each passing second, it became more alien.
"You're strong, I have to admit. I don't understand why I haven't heard of someone like you. And why, instead of earning respect and a fearsome reputation, you're leading a gang of small-time thugs. That power is worthless in hands like yours."
"Words are unnecessary."
"You're right, but you want me to shut up because you have nothing to say in your defense. Well, not that I cared anyway. Do me the favor of dying soon. Every second you resist like a worm is a waste of time for me. My enemy is someone much stronger than you."
Lung laughed. As if the idea of someone stronger than him couldn't fit in his tiny brain.
Kazuya launched himself at Lung, flying low. Like a dark star and without hesitating for a second. His opponent wasn't anything out of this world. Taller than most, but that was it.
Lung extended his palms in front of him. Fire burst from his open palms as if they were flamethrowers, and Kazuya rejected the fire as if they were nothing but wax petals in his path. Pushing them aside and extinguishing them with his arms. He had caught him off guard the last time, but that wouldn't happen again. Lung couldn't prevent him from reaching him.
Kazuya grabbed him by the neck and dragged him down the hallway, through the walls, taking the shortest path, the straight line. They ended up outside. Someone whimpered. It was the man from before. Lying on the ground, curled up. Pathetic.
He had no way to fight against what was happening, but that was his own fault. If he was weak, what stopped him from training? Nothing except his own laziness like a worm's. The power of the devil was, of course, overwhelming. But Heihachi had defeated him in the past being a mere human.
Heihachi wasn't a good example of anything, but it's not like he was the only extraordinary normal human. There was Paul, that American. He hated to admit it, but once he had tied with him. And all he had on his side was his willpower and training.
Nowadays, he was a washed-up guy who even lost against bears, albeit bears trained in the Mishima style, but that's another story.
How did he handle Lung? Well, with ease. He had grown, but that only made it slightly more difficult to lift him. Also, spinning him around and throwing him like a frisbee.
His massive body turned a parked car nearby into a very compact metal cube.
"You're a tough sandbag. At least I can commend you for that. But..."
Lung lunged towards him.
He shot fire from his hands and mouth indiscriminately. He seemed to believe that if he couldn't reach him by aiming, then luck would do the job for him. But all he was achieving was destroying the neighborhood. The only thing Lung's fire moved was Kazuya's hair.
More precisely, it was the air displaced by that power discharge, naturally.
"Don't get cocky."
A single punch was enough to knock down the opponent who only looked like a monster. But that was just the beginning, of course. He shot the laser from his third eye. The laser cut through the ground, sending debris flying. The dust raised described the laser's path before the wound on the ground.
When the laser reached Lung, the poor idiot was sent flying. At least ten meters in an instant. Yes. In an instant, Kazuya was there to meet him with open arms, albeit positioned above his head. Preparing a punch like a hammer.
The hammer blow sent Lung back to the ground. He couldn't do anything to dodge it in the air, despite also having wings. Then, he gathered strength in one leg. The torrent swirling around him was like a storm of dark purple. It descended upon the fallen monster like a black star, leg first!
The explosion was blinding, literally. But brief. Lung was still alive, but perhaps not in a condition to fight. Kazuya made his body roll on the ground, kicking it as if it were a garbage bag. It was a figure of speech, of course. He wasn't going to let one of his sneakers come anywhere near a garbage bag. Lung wasn't so different, deep down, but right now, he didn't care. His blood was too hot to worry about anything except the battle.
Kazuya crossed his arms, disdainful. What resembled a smile on his face was also highly contemptuous.
"Is that all you've got?"
He got the answer. No. The answer was no. Although with some difficulty, the monster rose from the ground. Still laughing.
He seemed to believe that this had only just begun.
Kazuya frowned slightly, almost imperceptibly. Maybe he was right.
Of course, he didn't consider him a threat, but perhaps he would serve for more than just a warm-up. Well, there was nothing wrong with that. In fact, he welcomed it! Kazuya had been born into this world to fight. He had never had any other option, anyway. So true opponents against whom he could test himself were always welcome.
The world was very simple. It was divided into those who took advantage of others and the people who were taken advantage of. That's why power was needed. Only power could help you get what you wanted, keep it, and move forward.
Modern civilization did nothing but sugarcoat and disguise that simple truth. Ultimately, everything boiled down to the survival of the fittest. Political power, physical power, mental power. It didn't matter to him. Kazuya wanted it all.
Everything!
That's what Jun never understood... So compassionate, so willing to help everyone, even me. What good did it do her?
She lasted a few years thanks to the steel she hid. She was a wonderful, strong woman. But in the end, she died in a predictable way. If she had the strength to abandon her son, she would still be alive. But she had let herself be carried away by sentiments like "he's my son," as if she couldn't just make another one.
Finally, her virtuous way of living had rewarded her with a horrible death at the hands of Ogre.
Jin had survived, but what good was it to her? She could no longer be with her beloved son whom she had sacrificed everything for, obviously.
The same went for Grandfather Jinpachi. He was a great man. Kazuya would never allow anyone to disrespect him. However, it was the truth.
Betrayed, his company stolen. Buried alive for decades under the temple. A victim of his own power.
The world doesn't reward people like Jun and Jinpachi, but people like Heihachi. People like... Like Kazuya.
As much as the idea made him want to vomit blood, it was simply the truth. Kazuya had learned a lot from his most hated enemy. In the end, he had been his best teacher... But he would make sure he wasn't rewarded either.
He would take his teachings and use them to crush him, to kill him. For that reason...
"Die already. Get out of my way!"
The fight resumed.
Their fists collided. The air trembled. Screams echoed across the ground, and also through their bones. Lung's punch had shattered Kazuya's right arm. He had become stronger.
But Kazuya didn't stop for a second. So what if his right arm was broken? His left one still worked perfectly fine.
As long as he was still alive, still able to breathe, there was no reason to stop or even slow down by a fraction of a second. Pain was just pain. A fleeting sensation he had no control over, an existence above him. And any wound would heal in time.
Most of the time, faster than any opponent expected.
Lung exploded for the second time. The shockwave sent Kazuya flying into a fountain. It shattered, of course. His knees sank into the water. The fountain water extinguished the flames before they even had a chance to spread. He hadn't intended to send him there, of course.
Kazuya stood up. He shook his head as if to say "annoying". Then, he fired the laser from his third eye. Not directly at Lung this time. Not this time. Instead, he aimed at a distant car, causing it to be propelled towards Lung.
The monster split it in half in mid-air, of course. Without even turning around. Big, perhaps. Stupid, not so much.
Unlike the previous car he had reduced to rubble, there was a person inside this one. Not for long, though. They burned simply by falling near Lung. At least their screams were silenced quickly.
Not by Lung himself, but by the flames. The worst pain wasn't the one that made you scream at the top of your lungs, but the one that left you so weak and injured that you couldn't even scream.
It was a death befitting of an insect. People were becoming aware of the battle and fleeing as quickly as possible. Or at least turning off the lights, hiding, and praying for it to end. That guy had simply been unlucky to be chosen by Kazuya, or rather his car, for an attack that had served no purpose.
He had never expected anything different in the first place. So it was a waste in many ways.
It was no wonder that guy had died just by getting close to Lung. He had become the center of a natural disaster. Even the water in the fountain was starting to boil, even though he was still relatively far away. He could see the bubbles rising.
Okay, I'll admit it, at least in my thoughts. You're a worthy opponent. So I'll give it my all. I'll do whatever it takes to make this place your tomb.
Just as he began to appreciate that the swarm of insects had stopped bothering, another annoyance had to arrive. He parked the motorcycle in the middle of the square. He was covered from head to toe in a peculiar armor, mainly blue. He got off the seat and from somewhere pulled out a halberd colored like his armor.
"Enough!"
"I decide when it's enough," Lung said.
"So now you can't talk." What? He was perfectly understandable. What was wrong with the people in this place? "Miss Militia, Assault, Battery, and the rest will be here soon too. You must believe you can handle us again, but you're not the only one who can get stronger. And it seems you're not doing too well against that man."
Kazuya had only one question.
"Who the hell are you?"
Kazuya vs Lung! The Dragon and the Devil (3): FIN
Kazuya vs Lung! The Dragon and the Devil (4)
Chapter 4: Kazuya vs Lung! The Dragon and the Devil, Part 4
The newcomer frowned.
"My name is Armsmaster."
Armsmaster? What an arrogant name. He only carried a halberd, so at most he was a master of one weapon. Anyway, Kazuya wasn't going to give him much. Getting into a fight between two monsters with a toy like that was the height of stupidity.
If he wanted to commit suicide, Kazuya didn't see it as a problem at all, but he would still demonstrate the depth of that man's stupidity anyway.
"Although it's not like you should care," the self-proclaimed Armsmaster continued. "You're fighting against that monster, Lung. You should accept any help you can..."
He had had enough.
Kazuya snatched the halberd from Armsmaster's hands as easily as taking candy from a baby; then, he snapped it over his knee. He split it in half effortlessly. With both arms, of course. More than enough time had passed for it to regenerate. Due to the helmet, he could only see half of Armsmaster's face. But his lower half suddenly became extremely expressive.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"I don't need anyone's help, especially not from a weakling like you, who relies on weapons instead of his own body. So get out of my way."
The fight would have been inevitable if Lung hadn't intervened. The self-proclaimed master of arms went flying over the fountain, of course, over the lampposts and power lines, engulfed in flames like a comet descending to earth, but he was doing just the opposite. He soared even above the buildings. Kazuya quickly lost sight of him.
"Pathetic. Not even worth talking about."
—
Taylor watched Armsmaster flying, cloaked in a mantle of flames, above the buildings. She swallowed hard. She had stayed even after finding out that her swarm's poisons hadn't been enough to bring down or at least weaken Lung (she didn't want to think that they had weakened him and he was still monstrously strong), but that awful sight helped her make a decision.
"Screw this. I'm out."
She turned around and descended into the alley through the fire escape, just as she had climbed up in the first place, since she didn't have an incredibly useful power.
I wish I could fly, of course, like anyone.
Or at least stick to walls like a spider.
—
Kazuya shrugged. Well, that's it, problem solved. Although the annoying little man had suggested that there was more cavalry on the way, maybe he would be able to finish this fight before they came meddling where nobody needed them.
He cracked his knuckles.
"Okay, where were we?"
Lung laughed.
A strange, deep laugh. The strangest thing would be if it wasn't strange. After all, his face, his mouth, his throat, everything about him was becoming less human. If his name and tattoos weren't enough clues, by now anyone would understand the final point of his transformation. Eventually, he would look like a dragon, not like a human being.
Or something like that.
Oriental or occidental, his face didn't resemble any dragon he had ever heard of.
Well, he didn't care.
He didn't think he would last long enough against him to see his final form anyway. Although he had to admit that he had never thought he would come this far and there he was, still standing, still more than willing to keep fighting.
Well, time will tell.
"I don't want anyone to interrupt this fight. So come with me to the skies. Unless the idiots that man mentioned can fly. In a different way, of course. Then I won't bother moving. I won't move an inch."
"Just one."
Kazuya shrugged again.
"That's fine by me."
And he soared into the clouds. Lung followed closely obediently. He was eager for a worthy fight and wouldn't do anything to spoil that opportunity. He understood him perfectly.
"My blood burns too," Lung said. "The last time I got this excited was against Leviathan." He laughed again, high on the battle rush. "I must be really excited, since you're the first person in a long, long time I've talked about that with. You're the first in years to have the honor of knowing it."
"Leviathan, is that name supposed to mean something to me?"
"You're really strange. That you can understand me perfectly despite the progress of my transformation is one thing, or that Armsmaster understood you even though you're speaking Japanese. That could easily be the result of a power. However, there is no one in this world who doesn't know about the Endbringers. Not a single person. Or at least there shouldn't be."
"If I don't know them, they can't be that important," Kazuya said without a second thought.
However, it wasn't true. That had planted the seed of doubt in Kazuya's heart. He didn't even want to consider something so ridiculous, but a possibility that would explain all the strange things so far had come to mind. He just didn't want to believe it.
There were things in this world beyond science, but it was still too ridiculous a possibility.
He wouldn't accept such a thing until he was forced to.
Lung opened his eyes wide.
He shook his head.
"Anyway, it's not like I'm proud of what I did then. The Endbringers are forces of nature. There's no point in fighting against them. But you, you're incredibly strong. And as human as I am. That's enough for me. I don't need to know your story. Satisfy me, don't make it easy for me!"
"Satisfy you? Know your place. You're just an appetizer before my fight with my real enemy."
"I've never been defeated. Not once. As I fight, I become stronger and stronger. Eventually, I surpass my enemy. It's inevitable. So I don't even know the limits of my power. Will you help me discover them... or will you be crushed like everyone else?"
"You need to wake up. However, by that point you'll be torn to pieces."
The two winged monsters took off, crossing the ten meters that separated them in an instant to collide in the middle. Even the clouds trembled. The terrible battle had actually only just begun.
They both cared little about the victims and other collateral damage, but at least at this height, it would be more difficult for them to be interrupted.
They exchanged a series of blows in rapid succession. The best defense was a good offense. That was being demonstrated here and now. They weren't defending themselves, but as a consequence of attacking, they were canceling out each other's attacks. Fist by fist, kick by kick.
A stalemate.
The question now was who would make the first mistake, and that was Kazuya. It was embarrassing, but Lung pierced through his guard and delivered a hammer blow to his head, clasping his hands together. His superhuman strength, aided by his incredible size as well, sent him flying downwards. Like a shooting star.
They had agreed to take the fight to the skies to avoid interruptions, but was Lung already trying to force him into a crash landing?
Well, he couldn't expect Lung to hold back just for that. Besides, nothing stopped him from soaring back up immediately. It took him a moment to recover from the blow, he had to admit. He was about ten meters away from hitting the ground, but then he grabbed a lamppost.
It bent, but held his weight. Kazuya made sure of it. He circled it a few times. Just enough to build momentum, to launch himself back towards his enemy.
It was hard to read Lung's expression with his face so transformed, but he seemed surprised.
He tried to punch through Lung, but didn't even get the chance. Perhaps he would have had enough power, but the beast dodged his mighty punch. Oh well, it was worth a shot. He had covered quite a distance before attempting the punch, of course, but he was fast.
The problem was, they both were.
The fight had progressed to the point where normal humans would struggle to keep up with their movements with their eyes.
Lung claimed he grew stronger the longer he stayed in battle. He hinted that maybe he had no limits. Of course, limitless power was absurd. And even if such a thing existed, Devil's Power would still reign supreme for one simple reason.
Lung needed to get stronger.
Kazuya was as strong as he could be from the get-go. He wasn't holding back in the slightest, yet he couldn't kill him, but he would before he could get stronger than him.
He knew for certain as the fight couldn't last for days.
Still...
Kazuya smiled. A smile of joy, but not innocent, far from it.
Why wouldn't he be happy?
This was the ideal opponent, the forge's fire he needed to temper his iron fist.
That was all, however.
Even now, Kazuya didn't even consider the possibility of being defeated.
After all, Heihachi was a human who matched the power of the devil gene with nothing but training and sheer determination. If he couldn't even beat this dragon, he wouldn't stand a chance against him.
However, things ended surprisingly quickly. It wasn't anything special. Simply put, no one could defend themselves 100% of the time, and Kazuya had the speed and strength necessary to exploit any opening to the fullest. And exploit it he did. His fist drilled into the dragon's chest like a rock drill, even sending sparks flying.
Kazuya felt his iron fist slide between the ribs, forcefully bending them aside to make way. He felt it reach the creature's heart and shatter it. There was no doubt. It only took one mistake. Just one mistake. Lung couldn't even launch a final counterattack to try to drag him down to hell.
His entire body went limp and fell forward. The only thing supporting him was Kazuya's arm piercing through his chest. So, when he withdrew it, Lung fell to the ground.
His landing formed a crater of considerable depth. Undoubtedly, he had crushed his heart, but the transformation wasn't reversing. On the contrary, the scales began to grow faster, covering the black hole in his chest. Shortly after, the man who he had presumed dead stood up, albeit not without some difficulty.
Not even that had been enough.
For the first time in decades, Kazuya laughed like a child again. He assumed a battle stance.
"You haven't had enough, huh? Come here!"
—
Taylor couldn't make as clean an exit as she would have liked.
She bumped into something and upon raising her head, she saw it was someone. A very tall man with a biker helmet, his head engulfed in darkness. Once again, she couldn't really talk, but that kind of outfit screamed villain. More importantly, he wasn't alone. He was accompanied by two girls, a effeminate boy with a theater mask and a staff...
And some mutant beasts vaguely resembling dogs.
Why?
Why me?
Kazuya vs Lung! The Dragon and the Devil, Part 4: FIN
The newcomer frowned.
"My name is Armsmaster."
Armsmaster? What an arrogant name. He only carried a halberd, so at most he was a master of one weapon. Anyway, Kazuya wasn't going to give him much. Getting into a fight between two monsters with a toy like that was the height of stupidity.
If he wanted to commit suicide, Kazuya didn't see it as a problem at all, but he would still demonstrate the depth of that man's stupidity anyway.
"Although it's not like you should care," the self-proclaimed Armsmaster continued. "You're fighting against that monster, Lung. You should accept any help you can..."
He had had enough.
Kazuya snatched the halberd from Armsmaster's hands as easily as taking candy from a baby; then, he snapped it over his knee. He split it in half effortlessly. With both arms, of course. More than enough time had passed for it to regenerate. Due to the helmet, he could only see half of Armsmaster's face. But his lower half suddenly became extremely expressive.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"I don't need anyone's help, especially not from a weakling like you, who relies on weapons instead of his own body. So get out of my way."
The fight would have been inevitable if Lung hadn't intervened. The self-proclaimed master of arms went flying over the fountain, of course, over the lampposts and power lines, engulfed in flames like a comet descending to earth, but he was doing just the opposite. He soared even above the buildings. Kazuya quickly lost sight of him.
"Pathetic. Not even worth talking about."
—
Taylor watched Armsmaster flying, cloaked in a mantle of flames, above the buildings. She swallowed hard. She had stayed even after finding out that her swarm's poisons hadn't been enough to bring down or at least weaken Lung (she didn't want to think that they had weakened him and he was still monstrously strong), but that awful sight helped her make a decision.
"Screw this. I'm out."
She turned around and descended into the alley through the fire escape, just as she had climbed up in the first place, since she didn't have an incredibly useful power.
I wish I could fly, of course, like anyone.
Or at least stick to walls like a spider.
—
Kazuya shrugged. Well, that's it, problem solved. Although the annoying little man had suggested that there was more cavalry on the way, maybe he would be able to finish this fight before they came meddling where nobody needed them.
He cracked his knuckles.
"Okay, where were we?"
Lung laughed.
A strange, deep laugh. The strangest thing would be if it wasn't strange. After all, his face, his mouth, his throat, everything about him was becoming less human. If his name and tattoos weren't enough clues, by now anyone would understand the final point of his transformation. Eventually, he would look like a dragon, not like a human being.
Or something like that.
Oriental or occidental, his face didn't resemble any dragon he had ever heard of.
Well, he didn't care.
He didn't think he would last long enough against him to see his final form anyway. Although he had to admit that he had never thought he would come this far and there he was, still standing, still more than willing to keep fighting.
Well, time will tell.
"I don't want anyone to interrupt this fight. So come with me to the skies. Unless the idiots that man mentioned can fly. In a different way, of course. Then I won't bother moving. I won't move an inch."
"Just one."
Kazuya shrugged again.
"That's fine by me."
And he soared into the clouds. Lung followed closely obediently. He was eager for a worthy fight and wouldn't do anything to spoil that opportunity. He understood him perfectly.
"My blood burns too," Lung said. "The last time I got this excited was against Leviathan." He laughed again, high on the battle rush. "I must be really excited, since you're the first person in a long, long time I've talked about that with. You're the first in years to have the honor of knowing it."
"Leviathan, is that name supposed to mean something to me?"
"You're really strange. That you can understand me perfectly despite the progress of my transformation is one thing, or that Armsmaster understood you even though you're speaking Japanese. That could easily be the result of a power. However, there is no one in this world who doesn't know about the Endbringers. Not a single person. Or at least there shouldn't be."
"If I don't know them, they can't be that important," Kazuya said without a second thought.
However, it wasn't true. That had planted the seed of doubt in Kazuya's heart. He didn't even want to consider something so ridiculous, but a possibility that would explain all the strange things so far had come to mind. He just didn't want to believe it.
There were things in this world beyond science, but it was still too ridiculous a possibility.
He wouldn't accept such a thing until he was forced to.
Lung opened his eyes wide.
He shook his head.
"Anyway, it's not like I'm proud of what I did then. The Endbringers are forces of nature. There's no point in fighting against them. But you, you're incredibly strong. And as human as I am. That's enough for me. I don't need to know your story. Satisfy me, don't make it easy for me!"
"Satisfy you? Know your place. You're just an appetizer before my fight with my real enemy."
"I've never been defeated. Not once. As I fight, I become stronger and stronger. Eventually, I surpass my enemy. It's inevitable. So I don't even know the limits of my power. Will you help me discover them... or will you be crushed like everyone else?"
"You need to wake up. However, by that point you'll be torn to pieces."
The two winged monsters took off, crossing the ten meters that separated them in an instant to collide in the middle. Even the clouds trembled. The terrible battle had actually only just begun.
They both cared little about the victims and other collateral damage, but at least at this height, it would be more difficult for them to be interrupted.
They exchanged a series of blows in rapid succession. The best defense was a good offense. That was being demonstrated here and now. They weren't defending themselves, but as a consequence of attacking, they were canceling out each other's attacks. Fist by fist, kick by kick.
A stalemate.
The question now was who would make the first mistake, and that was Kazuya. It was embarrassing, but Lung pierced through his guard and delivered a hammer blow to his head, clasping his hands together. His superhuman strength, aided by his incredible size as well, sent him flying downwards. Like a shooting star.
They had agreed to take the fight to the skies to avoid interruptions, but was Lung already trying to force him into a crash landing?
Well, he couldn't expect Lung to hold back just for that. Besides, nothing stopped him from soaring back up immediately. It took him a moment to recover from the blow, he had to admit. He was about ten meters away from hitting the ground, but then he grabbed a lamppost.
It bent, but held his weight. Kazuya made sure of it. He circled it a few times. Just enough to build momentum, to launch himself back towards his enemy.
It was hard to read Lung's expression with his face so transformed, but he seemed surprised.
He tried to punch through Lung, but didn't even get the chance. Perhaps he would have had enough power, but the beast dodged his mighty punch. Oh well, it was worth a shot. He had covered quite a distance before attempting the punch, of course, but he was fast.
The problem was, they both were.
The fight had progressed to the point where normal humans would struggle to keep up with their movements with their eyes.
Lung claimed he grew stronger the longer he stayed in battle. He hinted that maybe he had no limits. Of course, limitless power was absurd. And even if such a thing existed, Devil's Power would still reign supreme for one simple reason.
Lung needed to get stronger.
Kazuya was as strong as he could be from the get-go. He wasn't holding back in the slightest, yet he couldn't kill him, but he would before he could get stronger than him.
He knew for certain as the fight couldn't last for days.
Still...
Kazuya smiled. A smile of joy, but not innocent, far from it.
Why wouldn't he be happy?
This was the ideal opponent, the forge's fire he needed to temper his iron fist.
That was all, however.
Even now, Kazuya didn't even consider the possibility of being defeated.
After all, Heihachi was a human who matched the power of the devil gene with nothing but training and sheer determination. If he couldn't even beat this dragon, he wouldn't stand a chance against him.
However, things ended surprisingly quickly. It wasn't anything special. Simply put, no one could defend themselves 100% of the time, and Kazuya had the speed and strength necessary to exploit any opening to the fullest. And exploit it he did. His fist drilled into the dragon's chest like a rock drill, even sending sparks flying.
Kazuya felt his iron fist slide between the ribs, forcefully bending them aside to make way. He felt it reach the creature's heart and shatter it. There was no doubt. It only took one mistake. Just one mistake. Lung couldn't even launch a final counterattack to try to drag him down to hell.
His entire body went limp and fell forward. The only thing supporting him was Kazuya's arm piercing through his chest. So, when he withdrew it, Lung fell to the ground.
His landing formed a crater of considerable depth. Undoubtedly, he had crushed his heart, but the transformation wasn't reversing. On the contrary, the scales began to grow faster, covering the black hole in his chest. Shortly after, the man who he had presumed dead stood up, albeit not without some difficulty.
Not even that had been enough.
For the first time in decades, Kazuya laughed like a child again. He assumed a battle stance.
"You haven't had enough, huh? Come here!"
—
Taylor couldn't make as clean an exit as she would have liked.
She bumped into something and upon raising her head, she saw it was someone. A very tall man with a biker helmet, his head engulfed in darkness. Once again, she couldn't really talk, but that kind of outfit screamed villain. More importantly, he wasn't alone. He was accompanied by two girls, a effeminate boy with a theater mask and a staff...
And some mutant beasts vaguely resembling dogs.
Why?
Why me?
Kazuya vs Lung! The Dragon and the Devil, Part 4: FIN
The Dragon's Flames
Chapter 5: The Dragon's Flames
Armsmaster landed forcibly, ensuring not to harm civilians as best he could. It was more difficult without his halberd, thanks to the idiot who had broken it. He did cause some property damage upon landing, but that couldn't be helped. Besides, he couldn't care less at the moment. And not just because of his natural inclination toward selfishness.
Because he was burning. Were it not for the armor, the landing would have turned his organs to mush, and he would be half-dead. Not just burning. Burning.
Relax. With all this armor in between, it hasn't even reached me yet.
It was easier said than done (as the saying goes, everything is easier said than done, naturally), but he tried.
He crawled on the ground. Like a worm. He crawled forward, on all fours, amidst a frightened crowd running around like headless chickens. That was the symbol of the worst possible situation. Heroes, the PRT, were supposed to prevent situations like these. The public didn't need to know that someone as dangerous as Lung existed. It served no purpose.
They had been defeated and left him alone, so to speak. Hoping to put him behind bars in the future, naturally, but somewhat relieved. Because Lung was a monster without ambition. Content to be the leader of a bunch of small-time thugs. The Empire Eighty-Eight was a much bigger problem. It had been for a long time.
But now, this.
This.
Armsmaster broke open a fire hydrant on the side of the road with his bare hands. Water gushed out, drenching him. Dousing the flames. If he hadn't been there, well, he preferred not to think about that. He didn't like relying on luck, but sometimes there was no other choice.
He tried to take deep breaths. He had been close, but ultimately, he hadn't done much. His whole body hurt, and he had a couple of broken ribs, but it could be much worse. His armor was already injecting something to suppress the pain. Pain was a signal of danger, but ultimately, it was just a hindrance. He wished he could completely eradicate it. It was nothing but a waste of time.
Anyway, all in due time.
Armsmaster got up quickly, though not without effort. He had to lean on a nearby car to do it. Once on his feet, he stayed that way, however. It wasn't so bad. He could continue fighting... or rather, start, since he hadn't even had the chance yet.
But not without his halberd. Without his weapon, his tools. Would he have to retreat shamefully, without even doing anything? While...
He heard him. He swallowed hard. He instinctively knew it had to be him, as if he had been called by his thoughts. But still, looking up and seeing him flying in his shining armor like a Roman soldier, his shield and a thunderbolt in his hand, felt like being hit with a hammer in the chest. A pain deeper than the fall. By far.
Dauntless. What a joke of a name. Armsmaster, as a Tinker, had to work for what he had. Give blood, sweat, and tears. Give everything and more.
But Dauntless had been powerful from the start, and every day he became more powerful effortlessly, as natural as the sun rising in the morning, another law of the universe.
He was already powerful and would eventually become more powerful than anyone else, even Eidolon himself.
And all by luck.
Pure luck.
Dauntless was flying, shining in his armor and with the spear he carried, which seemed to be made of white electricity. With a lightning bolt in his hand. Like Zeus himself. A god among men, among...
Simple mortals.
Armsmaster's teeth chattered.
I'm unarmed, but it doesn't matter. I don't care at all.
——
Kazuya, smiling, watched his enemy grow and become even stronger. He just watched. As if he had nothing to do with it. As if it weren't a real problem.
Lung had reached the point where he measured about fifteen meters and looked like a true dragon. There was not a trace of humanity in his impenetrable body.
Or at least, that's what he was supposed to believe. Impenetrable, invincible. That was nonsense, of course. No one was invincible, not even Kazuya himself. Now I'll show you.
No, none of that.
He had already shown it. Lung had described his power clearly. He grew stronger the longer he fought, aiming to crush his enemies. The fact that his transformation was continuing without stopping was proof, if any were needed, that he couldn't handle him.
"Pathetic," said Kazuya.
Another explosion of fire. Kazuya didn't even bother to block. He let the flames pass through him without doing anything.
"Do you think getting bigger makes you stronger, faster? A better fighter? You're just an easier target."
Lung clawed at the earth with his huge claws. Ripping chunks and sending them flying. Again and again. Kazuya dodged the blows by jumping. He didn't even use his wings.
He punched him in the side of the face. He felt his jaw crunch, but he couldn't say he had broken it. He guessed that with a slack jaw, maybe that wasn't possible in the first place.
Next, Kazuya fired the laser, burning one of the creature's eyes, bursting it like a balloon.
He paid for it by receiving a swat that buried him into the wall of a nearby building. He felt the debris falling and the dust he breathed into his lungs.
He coughed forcefully several times.
Okay, getting bigger had only weakened him. But still, he should be careful of his physical strength.
It was a mistake, no, a mere oversight, but still, he would make sure it didn't happen again.
He barely managed to get out of the way before the fireball that would destroy the building arrived. He knew it before it started to collapse, that is, it was obvious. It was obvious that nothing could remain standing after that.
He preferred not to think about what it would have done to him.
It was absurd to even consider that possibility.
He had talked about no one being invincible, and it was true, of course. But that idea was very different from losing here. Not even against Heihachi, but against a stray wild dog he had randomly encountered in the alleyways. It was unthinkable. Unforgivable. Inconceivable.
Because he knew, he knew that without a doubt Heihachi would have killed this guy, so...
Nothing. He had only lost ground for the first time since the battle had begun. Nothing had happened yet. Panic? Was he panicking? Him, Kazuya Mishima, of all people? Him!
Ridiculous.
Ridiculous, ridiculous, ridiculous, ridiculous.
The explosion behind him tore him from his flight path, made him lose control.
And end up in the dragon's claws.
He grabbed him, slammed him into the ground.
Kazuya bounced like a rag doll.
He gasped, feeling the blood rising in his throat. He couldn't recover in time, before what happened. Lung spread his wings, which had grown proportionally to his huge body. Somehow, the air lifting didn't push him away, didn't send him flying far, but rather drew him toward Lung and kept him suspended in the air.
Suspended.
Defying the laws of gravity.
While a fireball formed above Lung's head. It grew larger and larger, expanding like a miniature sun.
Lung delivered a double kick to Kazuya's chest, and he felt as if all his ribs had exploded at once. But, of course, that wasn't the worst of what awaited him. Not by a long shot. The fall wouldn't be pleasant, but he wasn't talking about that, naturally.
The fireball was a 'projectile' so large that there was no way Lung could miss.
Even if he recovered in the air, even if he did everything possible to dodge it. He wouldn't make it in time. He knew it. He felt it in his bones. He would have to eat that attack... and overcome it.
Kazuya gritted his teeth as he fell, enveloped in his wings.
He would overcome it.
He was made for this.
——
Lung laughed victoriously.
In the state he was still in (it took him a while to revert), more than a laugh, it sounded like an earthquake in the depths of a cave.
Speaking of which...
That's what had happened to his opponent, more or less.
The blow would have left him half buried in the ground.
With the help of the explosive fireball, the ground had ceased to be an obstacle.
That's why this Kazuya had fallen into the depths of darkness. The bottom of the crater couldn't be seen, as if a bomb had been dropped.
Lung had defeated the enemy once again.
That's why he laughed.
Even if he could barely make it out of the darkness, he wouldn't be in a condition to fight.
But he wouldn't even be able to do that.
Who could have survived something like that?
He had gotten into trouble, not so much because of the massive property damage, but because of the deaths of several people. Civilians. In his current state, the ABB couldn't survive if the PRT went all out to crush them, seeing them as too dangerous.
It was a big game of tug-of-war to maintain the delicate balance between heroes and villains, a balance that, despite all efforts, was tilting toward the void anyway, but one couldn't simply do nothing.
But he couldn't care less at the moment.
Lung had won.
An absolute, indisputable victory.
It had been a long time since the last time he had felt so alive.
The Dragon's Flames: END
Armsmaster landed forcibly, ensuring not to harm civilians as best he could. It was more difficult without his halberd, thanks to the idiot who had broken it. He did cause some property damage upon landing, but that couldn't be helped. Besides, he couldn't care less at the moment. And not just because of his natural inclination toward selfishness.
Because he was burning. Were it not for the armor, the landing would have turned his organs to mush, and he would be half-dead. Not just burning. Burning.
Relax. With all this armor in between, it hasn't even reached me yet.
It was easier said than done (as the saying goes, everything is easier said than done, naturally), but he tried.
He crawled on the ground. Like a worm. He crawled forward, on all fours, amidst a frightened crowd running around like headless chickens. That was the symbol of the worst possible situation. Heroes, the PRT, were supposed to prevent situations like these. The public didn't need to know that someone as dangerous as Lung existed. It served no purpose.
They had been defeated and left him alone, so to speak. Hoping to put him behind bars in the future, naturally, but somewhat relieved. Because Lung was a monster without ambition. Content to be the leader of a bunch of small-time thugs. The Empire Eighty-Eight was a much bigger problem. It had been for a long time.
But now, this.
This.
Armsmaster broke open a fire hydrant on the side of the road with his bare hands. Water gushed out, drenching him. Dousing the flames. If he hadn't been there, well, he preferred not to think about that. He didn't like relying on luck, but sometimes there was no other choice.
He tried to take deep breaths. He had been close, but ultimately, he hadn't done much. His whole body hurt, and he had a couple of broken ribs, but it could be much worse. His armor was already injecting something to suppress the pain. Pain was a signal of danger, but ultimately, it was just a hindrance. He wished he could completely eradicate it. It was nothing but a waste of time.
Anyway, all in due time.
Armsmaster got up quickly, though not without effort. He had to lean on a nearby car to do it. Once on his feet, he stayed that way, however. It wasn't so bad. He could continue fighting... or rather, start, since he hadn't even had the chance yet.
But not without his halberd. Without his weapon, his tools. Would he have to retreat shamefully, without even doing anything? While...
He heard him. He swallowed hard. He instinctively knew it had to be him, as if he had been called by his thoughts. But still, looking up and seeing him flying in his shining armor like a Roman soldier, his shield and a thunderbolt in his hand, felt like being hit with a hammer in the chest. A pain deeper than the fall. By far.
Dauntless. What a joke of a name. Armsmaster, as a Tinker, had to work for what he had. Give blood, sweat, and tears. Give everything and more.
But Dauntless had been powerful from the start, and every day he became more powerful effortlessly, as natural as the sun rising in the morning, another law of the universe.
He was already powerful and would eventually become more powerful than anyone else, even Eidolon himself.
And all by luck.
Pure luck.
Dauntless was flying, shining in his armor and with the spear he carried, which seemed to be made of white electricity. With a lightning bolt in his hand. Like Zeus himself. A god among men, among...
Simple mortals.
Armsmaster's teeth chattered.
I'm unarmed, but it doesn't matter. I don't care at all.
——
Kazuya, smiling, watched his enemy grow and become even stronger. He just watched. As if he had nothing to do with it. As if it weren't a real problem.
Lung had reached the point where he measured about fifteen meters and looked like a true dragon. There was not a trace of humanity in his impenetrable body.
Or at least, that's what he was supposed to believe. Impenetrable, invincible. That was nonsense, of course. No one was invincible, not even Kazuya himself. Now I'll show you.
No, none of that.
He had already shown it. Lung had described his power clearly. He grew stronger the longer he fought, aiming to crush his enemies. The fact that his transformation was continuing without stopping was proof, if any were needed, that he couldn't handle him.
"Pathetic," said Kazuya.
Another explosion of fire. Kazuya didn't even bother to block. He let the flames pass through him without doing anything.
"Do you think getting bigger makes you stronger, faster? A better fighter? You're just an easier target."
Lung clawed at the earth with his huge claws. Ripping chunks and sending them flying. Again and again. Kazuya dodged the blows by jumping. He didn't even use his wings.
He punched him in the side of the face. He felt his jaw crunch, but he couldn't say he had broken it. He guessed that with a slack jaw, maybe that wasn't possible in the first place.
Next, Kazuya fired the laser, burning one of the creature's eyes, bursting it like a balloon.
He paid for it by receiving a swat that buried him into the wall of a nearby building. He felt the debris falling and the dust he breathed into his lungs.
He coughed forcefully several times.
Okay, getting bigger had only weakened him. But still, he should be careful of his physical strength.
It was a mistake, no, a mere oversight, but still, he would make sure it didn't happen again.
He barely managed to get out of the way before the fireball that would destroy the building arrived. He knew it before it started to collapse, that is, it was obvious. It was obvious that nothing could remain standing after that.
He preferred not to think about what it would have done to him.
It was absurd to even consider that possibility.
He had talked about no one being invincible, and it was true, of course. But that idea was very different from losing here. Not even against Heihachi, but against a stray wild dog he had randomly encountered in the alleyways. It was unthinkable. Unforgivable. Inconceivable.
Because he knew, he knew that without a doubt Heihachi would have killed this guy, so...
Nothing. He had only lost ground for the first time since the battle had begun. Nothing had happened yet. Panic? Was he panicking? Him, Kazuya Mishima, of all people? Him!
Ridiculous.
Ridiculous, ridiculous, ridiculous, ridiculous.
The explosion behind him tore him from his flight path, made him lose control.
And end up in the dragon's claws.
He grabbed him, slammed him into the ground.
Kazuya bounced like a rag doll.
He gasped, feeling the blood rising in his throat. He couldn't recover in time, before what happened. Lung spread his wings, which had grown proportionally to his huge body. Somehow, the air lifting didn't push him away, didn't send him flying far, but rather drew him toward Lung and kept him suspended in the air.
Suspended.
Defying the laws of gravity.
While a fireball formed above Lung's head. It grew larger and larger, expanding like a miniature sun.
Lung delivered a double kick to Kazuya's chest, and he felt as if all his ribs had exploded at once. But, of course, that wasn't the worst of what awaited him. Not by a long shot. The fall wouldn't be pleasant, but he wasn't talking about that, naturally.
The fireball was a 'projectile' so large that there was no way Lung could miss.
Even if he recovered in the air, even if he did everything possible to dodge it. He wouldn't make it in time. He knew it. He felt it in his bones. He would have to eat that attack... and overcome it.
Kazuya gritted his teeth as he fell, enveloped in his wings.
He would overcome it.
He was made for this.
——
Lung laughed victoriously.
In the state he was still in (it took him a while to revert), more than a laugh, it sounded like an earthquake in the depths of a cave.
Speaking of which...
That's what had happened to his opponent, more or less.
The blow would have left him half buried in the ground.
With the help of the explosive fireball, the ground had ceased to be an obstacle.
That's why this Kazuya had fallen into the depths of darkness. The bottom of the crater couldn't be seen, as if a bomb had been dropped.
Lung had defeated the enemy once again.
That's why he laughed.
Even if he could barely make it out of the darkness, he wouldn't be in a condition to fight.
But he wouldn't even be able to do that.
Who could have survived something like that?
He had gotten into trouble, not so much because of the massive property damage, but because of the deaths of several people. Civilians. In his current state, the ABB couldn't survive if the PRT went all out to crush them, seeing them as too dangerous.
It was a big game of tug-of-war to maintain the delicate balance between heroes and villains, a balance that, despite all efforts, was tilting toward the void anyway, but one couldn't simply do nothing.
But he couldn't care less at the moment.
Lung had won.
An absolute, indisputable victory.
It had been a long time since the last time he had felt so alive.
The Dragon's Flames: END
The Decisive Blow (Climax)
Chapter 6: The Decisive Blow (Climax)
1
Lung stopped laughing soon.
Victory was a momentary pleasure. Fools and the weak enjoyed that, but at his level, it only meant that he had reached a high, yes, he had ridden the crest of a wave that would not rise again.
He had defeated his enemy and that was it, there was nothing more.
Next time it would be even harder to reach such a high, to find an enemy that was at least as challenging.
His heart knew it.
His power and his body knew it too.
He was deflating, losing scales, losing height and altitude, now that there was no battle to fight. Lung made sure to touch the ground before his wings disappeared completely, no, before his size decreased enough to render them useless for flying.
An instant after his feet touched the ground, there was an explosion of pain in the center of his chest.
Lung gasped, spitting blood. He saw the drops flying through the air with a sense of unreality as if he were dreaming awake.
"How is this possible?" he managed to mutter.
But only after falling to the ground did he realize what had happened. The huge hole in his chest. The blood flowing like sprayed from a sprinkler, falling and spreading, forming a red carpet on the ground.
Is this the end?
Then he was overcome by darkness. He knew he was only losing consciousness.
He knew the absolute terror of knowing that it didn't matter, that it wouldn't guarantee that he would wake up again.
2
The lightning, shot through the smoke, hit the target head-on.
He knew it instantly, even amidst the general commotion, he heard his opponent's slight gasp when it struck him. Maybe he hadn't ended the fight with that, but he had messed him up good, as he also heard him crash to the ground.
The dragon had fallen to the earth to never rise again. He would make sure of that.
Kazuya flew, not without effort, out of the crater. He crawled, limping through the smoke wall. He soon noticed Lung on the ground, he would have seen him instantly if he hadn't expected him to have returned to his normal size, a human size.
He had transformed and the laser had dealt him a mortal wound.
The hole in his chest was so large that an arm could pass through it to his back. The blood and the burning mess of his flesh were, above all, what concealed the heart.
Kazuya clicked his tongue.
Just to be clear, he had not intended to use a dishonorable tactic like waiting for him to transform back to attack, taking advantage of the enemy's power weakness that he had confessed himself.
He got stronger as long as he was in a fight.
It just happened that way.
Good luck, bad luck, some kind of luck, in any case.
He wouldn't stoop to do something like that against an opponent of this level, but that didn't mean he would waste the opportunity to crush his enemies if it was handed to him on a platter. His blood was colder than death.
Therefore, without hesitation for a moment, he crawled towards Lung to finish the job.
He couldn't, but not because his pulse trembled for the first time in his life for some mysterious reason or because his own body failed him after such a devastating attack.
Instead, he was simply attacked.
A spear that seemed to be made of electricity pierced his side, throwing him to the ground. Under normal circumstances, it would have bounced off his body, but these circumstances were anything but normal. It was an effort just to stay on his feet, let alone move.
"We arrived too late." His attacker, he assumed, said that.
Kazuya didn't know as he had fallen headfirst to the ground. Biting the dust. He gritted his teeth.
"Just in time. It could have been worse." A woman's voice this time.
"Yes," admitted, though not too convinced, the previous voice.
Kazuya, being a good Mishima, wasted no time while they were on that. He was propping himself up on the ground with his hands and giving it his all to do something as natural as it should be to stand up.
If Lung hadn't defeated him, he wouldn't let these nobodies who had just arrived do it and then take the credit after he had, in a way, softened him up.
Besides, the fight wasn't over yet.
Not really.
Kazuya ignored the approaching figures, more than two and more than four as well. He reached Lung, put his hands on his head. And began to squeeze. He soon felt the skull crunching under his hands.
"Stop!"
He ignored the pathetic plea of whoever it was, naturally.
Lung was a worthy opponent.
For that very reason. He had shown him that he was too dangerous to let live, wherever he was in the end.
So he crushed his head like a ripe watermelon with a big smile on his face.
"God."
Then someone vomited. Maybe the same person. He didn't care. Irrelevant, not worth even talking about. The important thing was that he still had strength.
Not to fight, but to... save it for another time.
Kazuya roared.
The purple aura of power enveloped his body again, an aura that took your breath away, sealed throats. He took off like a dark star. And the insects crawling on the ground shot at him, attacked him, tried to restrain him in various ways, as he had always done, his life had been a struggle against any bondage.
But of course, he flew far away before they could capture him.
Naturally.
Power was freedom.
3
"This has been a complete failure," said Miss Militia, shaking her head as she observed the destruction.
He couldn't blame her.
It couldn't even be said that they had saved lives. By the time they arrived, the fight was already over. Those two monsters had torn each other apart, as well as the surroundings.
"Well, at least Lung won't give us any more trouble."
Militia gave him a cold look. He wondered if he was being judged for what might seem like a joke. He might have been a villain, but Dauntless hadn't wanted that man to die like that, just to face justice.
Maybe he was overthinking it.
Maybe her look wasn't cold because she was judging him, but because she didn't care one way or another.
"That stranger, apparently, is worse than him. And obviously more powerful."
"Okay, true. I'm not good at looking on the bright side, but I've been trying for a short time."
Dauntless shrugged.
The divorce, life, in general, for years. One thing after another.
Not everything was bad, and he knew he was privileged compared to millions of people. He knew it, but it was hard to have perspective when you were in the middle.
How would they deal with the aftermath of this incident?
And what would happen with that strange parahuman with bat wings and a demonic appearance?
4
Kazuya kept flying, moving away.
But he wasn't fleeing under any circumstances. He was no coward; he had judged what the most appropriate course of action was and had followed it without hesitation. That was all.
"I can crush them, but I'm not myself. That animal has weakened me. I need some time."
Kazuya clicked his tongue.
Talking to himself was useless. Well, it was just thinking out loud; no one could hear him anyway.
A little time. Just a little.
Then he would recover and return with double the strength. He would crush anyone who got in his way. It had been like that forever, and it would continue to be so. Nothing had changed.
He had the power.
"Besides, it makes no sense to fight on their terms. I dictate the rules. I... I am the one who has to control everything."
Yes. It was not at all honorable or brave to get into a fight where almost everything was against him. Even if it were, Kazuya spat on useless things like that; all he cared about was getting his way in the end, and he would do anything to get what he wanted.
Something he had demonstrated countless times.
He had left as soon as Jun began to think she could tame him, making him play house with her and the brat for the rest of his life.
It had nothing to do with Heihachi having defeated him and thrown him into the volcano.
He had never planned to return in the first place, as the woman had become too pretentious.
But, even so...
Even so, he could barely contain his rage. Every cell in his body screamed at him to turn around and confront those pretentious insects, even if it was with ten percent of his strength.
It was an anger bordering on madness.
Well, Kazuya Mishima had been lost in his mad lust for revenge for decades after all.
The Decisive Blow (Climax): FIN
1
Lung stopped laughing soon.
Victory was a momentary pleasure. Fools and the weak enjoyed that, but at his level, it only meant that he had reached a high, yes, he had ridden the crest of a wave that would not rise again.
He had defeated his enemy and that was it, there was nothing more.
Next time it would be even harder to reach such a high, to find an enemy that was at least as challenging.
His heart knew it.
His power and his body knew it too.
He was deflating, losing scales, losing height and altitude, now that there was no battle to fight. Lung made sure to touch the ground before his wings disappeared completely, no, before his size decreased enough to render them useless for flying.
An instant after his feet touched the ground, there was an explosion of pain in the center of his chest.
Lung gasped, spitting blood. He saw the drops flying through the air with a sense of unreality as if he were dreaming awake.
"How is this possible?" he managed to mutter.
But only after falling to the ground did he realize what had happened. The huge hole in his chest. The blood flowing like sprayed from a sprinkler, falling and spreading, forming a red carpet on the ground.
Is this the end?
Then he was overcome by darkness. He knew he was only losing consciousness.
He knew the absolute terror of knowing that it didn't matter, that it wouldn't guarantee that he would wake up again.
2
The lightning, shot through the smoke, hit the target head-on.
He knew it instantly, even amidst the general commotion, he heard his opponent's slight gasp when it struck him. Maybe he hadn't ended the fight with that, but he had messed him up good, as he also heard him crash to the ground.
The dragon had fallen to the earth to never rise again. He would make sure of that.
Kazuya flew, not without effort, out of the crater. He crawled, limping through the smoke wall. He soon noticed Lung on the ground, he would have seen him instantly if he hadn't expected him to have returned to his normal size, a human size.
He had transformed and the laser had dealt him a mortal wound.
The hole in his chest was so large that an arm could pass through it to his back. The blood and the burning mess of his flesh were, above all, what concealed the heart.
Kazuya clicked his tongue.
Just to be clear, he had not intended to use a dishonorable tactic like waiting for him to transform back to attack, taking advantage of the enemy's power weakness that he had confessed himself.
He got stronger as long as he was in a fight.
It just happened that way.
Good luck, bad luck, some kind of luck, in any case.
He wouldn't stoop to do something like that against an opponent of this level, but that didn't mean he would waste the opportunity to crush his enemies if it was handed to him on a platter. His blood was colder than death.
Therefore, without hesitation for a moment, he crawled towards Lung to finish the job.
He couldn't, but not because his pulse trembled for the first time in his life for some mysterious reason or because his own body failed him after such a devastating attack.
Instead, he was simply attacked.
A spear that seemed to be made of electricity pierced his side, throwing him to the ground. Under normal circumstances, it would have bounced off his body, but these circumstances were anything but normal. It was an effort just to stay on his feet, let alone move.
"We arrived too late." His attacker, he assumed, said that.
Kazuya didn't know as he had fallen headfirst to the ground. Biting the dust. He gritted his teeth.
"Just in time. It could have been worse." A woman's voice this time.
"Yes," admitted, though not too convinced, the previous voice.
Kazuya, being a good Mishima, wasted no time while they were on that. He was propping himself up on the ground with his hands and giving it his all to do something as natural as it should be to stand up.
If Lung hadn't defeated him, he wouldn't let these nobodies who had just arrived do it and then take the credit after he had, in a way, softened him up.
Besides, the fight wasn't over yet.
Not really.
Kazuya ignored the approaching figures, more than two and more than four as well. He reached Lung, put his hands on his head. And began to squeeze. He soon felt the skull crunching under his hands.
"Stop!"
He ignored the pathetic plea of whoever it was, naturally.
Lung was a worthy opponent.
For that very reason. He had shown him that he was too dangerous to let live, wherever he was in the end.
So he crushed his head like a ripe watermelon with a big smile on his face.
"God."
Then someone vomited. Maybe the same person. He didn't care. Irrelevant, not worth even talking about. The important thing was that he still had strength.
Not to fight, but to... save it for another time.
Kazuya roared.
The purple aura of power enveloped his body again, an aura that took your breath away, sealed throats. He took off like a dark star. And the insects crawling on the ground shot at him, attacked him, tried to restrain him in various ways, as he had always done, his life had been a struggle against any bondage.
But of course, he flew far away before they could capture him.
Naturally.
Power was freedom.
3
"This has been a complete failure," said Miss Militia, shaking her head as she observed the destruction.
He couldn't blame her.
It couldn't even be said that they had saved lives. By the time they arrived, the fight was already over. Those two monsters had torn each other apart, as well as the surroundings.
"Well, at least Lung won't give us any more trouble."
Militia gave him a cold look. He wondered if he was being judged for what might seem like a joke. He might have been a villain, but Dauntless hadn't wanted that man to die like that, just to face justice.
Maybe he was overthinking it.
Maybe her look wasn't cold because she was judging him, but because she didn't care one way or another.
"That stranger, apparently, is worse than him. And obviously more powerful."
"Okay, true. I'm not good at looking on the bright side, but I've been trying for a short time."
Dauntless shrugged.
The divorce, life, in general, for years. One thing after another.
Not everything was bad, and he knew he was privileged compared to millions of people. He knew it, but it was hard to have perspective when you were in the middle.
How would they deal with the aftermath of this incident?
And what would happen with that strange parahuman with bat wings and a demonic appearance?
4
Kazuya kept flying, moving away.
But he wasn't fleeing under any circumstances. He was no coward; he had judged what the most appropriate course of action was and had followed it without hesitation. That was all.
"I can crush them, but I'm not myself. That animal has weakened me. I need some time."
Kazuya clicked his tongue.
Talking to himself was useless. Well, it was just thinking out loud; no one could hear him anyway.
A little time. Just a little.
Then he would recover and return with double the strength. He would crush anyone who got in his way. It had been like that forever, and it would continue to be so. Nothing had changed.
He had the power.
"Besides, it makes no sense to fight on their terms. I dictate the rules. I... I am the one who has to control everything."
Yes. It was not at all honorable or brave to get into a fight where almost everything was against him. Even if it were, Kazuya spat on useless things like that; all he cared about was getting his way in the end, and he would do anything to get what he wanted.
Something he had demonstrated countless times.
He had left as soon as Jun began to think she could tame him, making him play house with her and the brat for the rest of his life.
It had nothing to do with Heihachi having defeated him and thrown him into the volcano.
He had never planned to return in the first place, as the woman had become too pretentious.
But, even so...
Even so, he could barely contain his rage. Every cell in his body screamed at him to turn around and confront those pretentious insects, even if it was with ten percent of his strength.
It was an anger bordering on madness.
Well, Kazuya Mishima had been lost in his mad lust for revenge for decades after all.
The Decisive Blow (Climax): FIN
The Golden Man and the Heart Stained Black
The Golden Man and the Heart Stained Black
Kazuya had defeated one of his greatest enemies (despite knowing him for such a short time), Lung, by tearing apart his heart and crushing his head. He doubted that he could regenerate from that. The mere thought was tempting fate, of course, but Kazuya had more reasons to believe it than just wishful thinking.
That stupid yet powerful creature had been kind enough to explain how his powers worked. The longer he endured in a fight, the stronger he became. Faster, bigger, more scaly. More of everything, in short. That included his regeneration powers naturally.
He had come back to square one after believing he had won, so there was no way he could survive those two lethal blows. He didn't know any monster that could survive something like that. At least he had gotten rid of that problem.
He had even managed to evade the cavalry. They didn't seem like Lung's friends, but they weren't his either, as they were dedicated to stopping the conflict. And, he supposed, the resulting deaths as collateral damage.
But misfortunes never came alone.
As expected, misfortune was waiting around the corner. There was no corner in the endless blue sky, but it still managed to surprise him, as if it had turned a corner. A man with golden skin, a cloak, and dressed in such pure white that there wasn't a speck of dust. That man wasn't human. He was different from Lung, who was merely a transformed human. Kazuya vaguely understood that fact with the first glance for some reason.
That's fine. He wasn't the first inhuman being he faced. The only strange thing was his vacant gaze, as if his heart were made of stone. One could be filled with rage, with hatred, one didn't need to be a person to have a burning heart. But that being? There was nothing there. Absolutely nothing.
That didn't matter.
What threat could a creature be that had no instinct for survival?
"Get out of my way."
But, despite his bravado, Kazuya...
Kazuya's heart shook for the first time since he was a child. That terrible day when he challenged Heihachi only to be torn apart and thrown off the cliff. Left for dead. He almost brought his hands to the scar on his chest, as it suddenly hurt.
Instead, he stopped the nonsense. He dashed towards the new obstacle, even though he hadn't recovered yet. He would manage, as he always did. About to strike the first blow, suddenly...
A gasp.
Kazuya fell to the ground, split in half.
And if that were all. A golden light was penetrating deeper and deeper into his wound. Devouring him, as if splitting him in half wasn't enough. He hadn't even seen the movement that had...
Ended him? No, no way!
He fell to the ground and felt the darkness engulfing him to claim him. Kazuya knew that if he allowed himself to lose consciousness, even for a second, he wouldn't return. He would die, this time for real. Deep down in his mind, he was aware that there wouldn't be a G Corporation to bring him back, that this wasn't his world.
So he crawled with one arm, the only one left, towards the nearest safe place. A sewer. A dirty sewer.
Normally, they couldn't even pay him to step on such a thing (of course, he didn't need anyone's money, but even leaving that aside, he wouldn't do it anyway), but what could he do?
Split in half, leaving a thick trail of blood behind him like a snail's slime.
His entrails were crawling too.
Being scratched by the asphalt as he passed.
What could he do?
He had to accept the circumstances.
"I'm not going to die here. I can't. Ridiculous."
The circumstances of his momentary weakness, not something like this. He couldn't die. Not here, no way, it was too soon to die! Not even death had been able to stop him once, so he couldn't let things end like this.
He kept crawling towards the sewer, slowly.
To hide from the eyes of the golden man.
"Ridiculous!"
But, it wasn't. This was the only way he could hide, embarrassing as it was. He had to admit it. The impossible had happened. He had been defeated in a single blow. No, I'm alive, so the fight goes on. Nothing has ended as long as I'm alive.
He reached the sewer and hid in the darkness. In the silence of the grave. There, time felt frozen. Time always passed, for better or for worse. No one could stop it.
Even breathing was difficult for him.
His broken ribs stabbed him everywhere with each inhalation and exhalation. His existence was just pain.
Regeneration was even worse than the injury. Of course. Everything in this world had a price. It was natural that putting things back in place would be so agonizing.
But at least, there was no other incident.
The golden man hadn't seen him. Or at least he had left too soon, thinking him dead.
His lost arm regenerated.
When his legs began to regenerate too...
Kazuya!
A voiceless voice, echoing directly in his head. A ghostly voice that could be the product of his imagination, but it wasn't. He recognized it perfectly.
"You again," he spat. "Is it really possible? Here, in this other world? Could you have followed me this far?"
The answer came quickly, as if it could read his thoughts. It wouldn't surprise him if the creature were capable of such violation. He gritted his teeth, filled with rage... helplessness. How he hated that word. How he wished he could never apply it to himself under any circumstances.
"My power still flows through your veins. Why would it be impossible? As long as you depend on the power of the Devil Gene, you will always depend on me. You will always keep me alive."
Kazuya rejected his words without a second thought.
"This power is mine. Mine alone."
"You foolish boy. Open your eyes. You are nothing but my puppet, you and your son have the role I desire."
Jin. Why did he mention him? He had to admit he was surprised when he started the Third World War, but ultimately, unfortunately, he was too weak, although not lacking in power, quite the opposite.
He resembled his mother too much.
"My son has nothing to do with this! He is insignificant. He doesn't have the power to defend anything, nor to destroy it."
"That's why you're still alive despite being so pathetic." So Azazel knew even that. That Jin had had the chance to kill him in the past, as well as Heihachi, and had let it pass. At least he hoped he regretted it now. In any case, that disgusting creature had been watching the Mishimas for a long time, huh? "But everything can be remedied. Die, Kazuya. And let me in."
A wet crunch. A sliding sensation. The feeling was his organs, which had returned to their place, coming out again. A huge arm protruded. The freshly spilled blood made it feel like it had been drying for hours compared to the gleam of the sharp crystals on the arm.
"A new world full of wonders to discover. And even more poisoned than ours. I have to Rectify everything."
Kazuya screamed in agony.
The Golden Man and the Heart Stained Black: FIN
Kazuya had defeated one of his greatest enemies (despite knowing him for such a short time), Lung, by tearing apart his heart and crushing his head. He doubted that he could regenerate from that. The mere thought was tempting fate, of course, but Kazuya had more reasons to believe it than just wishful thinking.
That stupid yet powerful creature had been kind enough to explain how his powers worked. The longer he endured in a fight, the stronger he became. Faster, bigger, more scaly. More of everything, in short. That included his regeneration powers naturally.
He had come back to square one after believing he had won, so there was no way he could survive those two lethal blows. He didn't know any monster that could survive something like that. At least he had gotten rid of that problem.
He had even managed to evade the cavalry. They didn't seem like Lung's friends, but they weren't his either, as they were dedicated to stopping the conflict. And, he supposed, the resulting deaths as collateral damage.
But misfortunes never came alone.
As expected, misfortune was waiting around the corner. There was no corner in the endless blue sky, but it still managed to surprise him, as if it had turned a corner. A man with golden skin, a cloak, and dressed in such pure white that there wasn't a speck of dust. That man wasn't human. He was different from Lung, who was merely a transformed human. Kazuya vaguely understood that fact with the first glance for some reason.
That's fine. He wasn't the first inhuman being he faced. The only strange thing was his vacant gaze, as if his heart were made of stone. One could be filled with rage, with hatred, one didn't need to be a person to have a burning heart. But that being? There was nothing there. Absolutely nothing.
That didn't matter.
What threat could a creature be that had no instinct for survival?
"Get out of my way."
But, despite his bravado, Kazuya...
Kazuya's heart shook for the first time since he was a child. That terrible day when he challenged Heihachi only to be torn apart and thrown off the cliff. Left for dead. He almost brought his hands to the scar on his chest, as it suddenly hurt.
Instead, he stopped the nonsense. He dashed towards the new obstacle, even though he hadn't recovered yet. He would manage, as he always did. About to strike the first blow, suddenly...
A gasp.
Kazuya fell to the ground, split in half.
And if that were all. A golden light was penetrating deeper and deeper into his wound. Devouring him, as if splitting him in half wasn't enough. He hadn't even seen the movement that had...
Ended him? No, no way!
He fell to the ground and felt the darkness engulfing him to claim him. Kazuya knew that if he allowed himself to lose consciousness, even for a second, he wouldn't return. He would die, this time for real. Deep down in his mind, he was aware that there wouldn't be a G Corporation to bring him back, that this wasn't his world.
So he crawled with one arm, the only one left, towards the nearest safe place. A sewer. A dirty sewer.
Normally, they couldn't even pay him to step on such a thing (of course, he didn't need anyone's money, but even leaving that aside, he wouldn't do it anyway), but what could he do?
Split in half, leaving a thick trail of blood behind him like a snail's slime.
His entrails were crawling too.
Being scratched by the asphalt as he passed.
What could he do?
He had to accept the circumstances.
"I'm not going to die here. I can't. Ridiculous."
The circumstances of his momentary weakness, not something like this. He couldn't die. Not here, no way, it was too soon to die! Not even death had been able to stop him once, so he couldn't let things end like this.
He kept crawling towards the sewer, slowly.
To hide from the eyes of the golden man.
"Ridiculous!"
But, it wasn't. This was the only way he could hide, embarrassing as it was. He had to admit it. The impossible had happened. He had been defeated in a single blow. No, I'm alive, so the fight goes on. Nothing has ended as long as I'm alive.
He reached the sewer and hid in the darkness. In the silence of the grave. There, time felt frozen. Time always passed, for better or for worse. No one could stop it.
Even breathing was difficult for him.
His broken ribs stabbed him everywhere with each inhalation and exhalation. His existence was just pain.
Regeneration was even worse than the injury. Of course. Everything in this world had a price. It was natural that putting things back in place would be so agonizing.
But at least, there was no other incident.
The golden man hadn't seen him. Or at least he had left too soon, thinking him dead.
His lost arm regenerated.
When his legs began to regenerate too...
Kazuya!
A voiceless voice, echoing directly in his head. A ghostly voice that could be the product of his imagination, but it wasn't. He recognized it perfectly.
"You again," he spat. "Is it really possible? Here, in this other world? Could you have followed me this far?"
The answer came quickly, as if it could read his thoughts. It wouldn't surprise him if the creature were capable of such violation. He gritted his teeth, filled with rage... helplessness. How he hated that word. How he wished he could never apply it to himself under any circumstances.
"My power still flows through your veins. Why would it be impossible? As long as you depend on the power of the Devil Gene, you will always depend on me. You will always keep me alive."
Kazuya rejected his words without a second thought.
"This power is mine. Mine alone."
"You foolish boy. Open your eyes. You are nothing but my puppet, you and your son have the role I desire."
Jin. Why did he mention him? He had to admit he was surprised when he started the Third World War, but ultimately, unfortunately, he was too weak, although not lacking in power, quite the opposite.
He resembled his mother too much.
"My son has nothing to do with this! He is insignificant. He doesn't have the power to defend anything, nor to destroy it."
"That's why you're still alive despite being so pathetic." So Azazel knew even that. That Jin had had the chance to kill him in the past, as well as Heihachi, and had let it pass. At least he hoped he regretted it now. In any case, that disgusting creature had been watching the Mishimas for a long time, huh? "But everything can be remedied. Die, Kazuya. And let me in."
A wet crunch. A sliding sensation. The feeling was his organs, which had returned to their place, coming out again. A huge arm protruded. The freshly spilled blood made it feel like it had been drying for hours compared to the gleam of the sharp crystals on the arm.
"A new world full of wonders to discover. And even more poisoned than ours. I have to Rectify everything."
Kazuya screamed in agony.
The Golden Man and the Heart Stained Black: FIN
STORM RISING (Normal)
STORM RISING (Normal)
Azazel had just emerged from his body.
The creature was over ten feet tall. It should have torn him to pieces in the process, but Kazuya was just as bad off as before it had emerged.
He vaguely understood that Azazel had transformed his body into a kind of portal and had emerged as if passing through the surface of a lake.
It wasn't something as 'physical' as it might seem, or he would undoubtedly be dead.
But the sewer tunnel where he had taken refuge had no such advantages. It began to collapse even before the creature stood upright. The debris slid over the shoulders of the monster, naturally causing no harm; it might as well have been a shower of cherry blossoms for all the effect it had.
Screams. Above, on the street, humans were scattering like rabbits at the approach of a fox.
Among the rubble, breathing heavily, Kazuya focused his rage and burned it with his gaze. He wasn't about to back down, not even a bit, even in such a situation. Although his mind knew that perhaps the most sensible thing would be to crawl away, he would never humble himself. Not before this monster, nor before anyone. He had sworn years ago, after all, that 'that day' would be the last. That he would never bow his head again.
"Kill you?" Azazel spoke directly into his head, invading him. Kazuya clenched his teeth. "If I wanted you dead, you would be. How could I let go of such a useful piece? Don't be ridiculous."
A laugh that might sound like the final agonized screams of someone lost in the depths of a cavern, twisted by echoes once they reached the outside. A laugh halfway between a scream, a sob, and laughter.
"You're still useful to me, Kazuya."
Azazel was a demon with gray skin and blazing red eyes. A demon covered in crystals that emitted a purple light. In fact, his own skin sometimes glowed the same color... Through his cracked chest, though not a wound, it was clear that these crystals acted as his innards. It was something that defied all logic and rationality, just like the Devil Gene he had brought into this world.
The Rectifier of All Things.
The Destroyer.
But... not his end, not his final moment. Definitely.
"Do you think you can... look down on me, dog? You waited until I was... weakened by someone else. You're afraid of me. Even now, you're trembling, mangy dog."
Azazel's expression didn't change in the slightest. After all, he didn't need such a thing to make his reaction clear.
"So eager for me to kill you? Even a brash child like you should know that you can do nothing to stop it now."
And it was mockery. He mocked, Kazuya would have preferred a thousand times that he rage, even if that meant being crushed by him a second later. He had already returned from the dead once, but he could not tolerate insults to his pride. Yes, it was absolutely intolerable.
So, naturally, he completely lost his head.
"Come on, kill me. Take advantage and kill me now, before I can recover. You wouldn't... want to risk it. Coward. Come on, let's go, let's go!"
Yes. He completely lost his head. He couldn't have controlled himself even if he wanted to. His countless enemies and the pieces he possessed would never have imagined, not in a million years, that he could behave this way.
They called him the emperor of cold blood.
He was supposed to be the kind of person who crushed his enemies without feeling anything, without letting anything or anyone affect him.
And, not only that.
Kazuya began to crawl towards Azazel as if he could do something against the demon with his body broken in every conceivable way and his strength nearly exhausted.
He was crawling across the ground, but not humbling himself in the least. In reality, he was demonstrating his great willpower, which was as superhuman as his physical strength.
He moved forward with determination, despite all he now felt was pain.
He moved forward, despite the fact that even crawling across the ground required such an effort that it made him vomit blood. And for what purpose? He could neither fight Azazel nor escape. But he kept doing it, without a moment's doubt. He couldn't be more stubborn.
Azazel simply looked away, directing his gaze toward the distant horizon.
"As I said, you are still useful to me, that's all. I'm not going to kill you. And I'm not going to wait for you to lie with a human, I don't think such a thing will happen twice. Goodbye, Kazuya. I have much work to do."
His enormous wings stirred, raising a tempest. He took flight. Kazuya knew that to spread the Devil Gene. He had made it very clear.
To spread the Gene in this different world into which he had ended up without knowing how or why.
2
Kayden finally came home, holding the shopping bags. Naturally, She had arrived so late only because that wasn't the only thing she had been doing. At least she could finally rest. Her eyes were already closing.
"Theo, have you taken good care of Aster? Theo?" she whispered, not wanting to wake the baby.
She received no response.
But that was not unusual. Although sometimes Theo stayed up very late watching television, since he had trouble sleeping, at this time he could well be sleeping peacefully in his bed.
Hopefully. He deserved a good rest.
She went into the living room and turned on the lights. The TV was still on, though muted. Theo was nowhere to be found. So what? Didn't she just explain why this wasn't strange?
Yes.
Yes.
Her fear made no sense, but Kayden's heart was submerged in the dark waters of a terrible premonition, and she couldn't escape. The dark waters...
As she stepped back into the hallway, she heard just that. Water. Dripping water.
No. No. Don't think about nonsense.
It can't be.
Kayden approached the bathroom. The closer she got, the louder the dripping became... naturally... How could it not get louder? Kayden stepped in a puddle, looking down as if to check that it really was there, that she hadn't somehow imagined it.
The water... was sliding under the door... and from inside, it continued dripping incessantly...
Drip drop, drip drop...
Maybe she was dreaming. That's what she desperately thought as she reached for the doorknob, turned it, and...
The door opened creaking like the jaws of some cruel beast.
When she saw what was on the other side, Kayden screamed, she couldn't stop screaming... she screamed as if she was going mad, no, she screamed as if she wished to go mad.
3
The dark waters were not a lake, they were not a river.
They were an ocean. Therefore, this had only just begun. Someone, their name was unimportant, woke up with a start, wrapped in the sheets as if they were a shroud. Covered in sweat and breathing like a wild beast.
What kind of dream, or nightmare, had he seen?
This someone didn't remember. In any case, what had pulled him out of the world of dreams was a dark impulse. Indeed, it was something he had thought about more times than he could count.
Everyone sometimes thought of doing terrible things. Who hadn't fantasized at least once, for example, about knocking out their asshole boss's teeth? But there were no thought crimes. As long as it stayed in the imagination, it was no sin.
However, today he would definitely... cross the line without looking back. And he was talking about doing 'something' much worse than punching his boss.
Someone opened the closet. There were all kinds of things there. First of all, he took an AK-47 and inserted the magazine, then took more, all that could fit between the pockets of his pants and his jacket. He still had to look for the jacket, but that was another story.
Also...
Grenades, of course. A few grenades would come in handy.
Lastly, although he doubted it would be of much use, he hung a hunting knife from his belt. It didn't have to be particularly useful. If he were someone cold and pragmatic, he would do only what was strictly necessary and seek to end 'that' without problems. However, he intended to enjoy it, so the hunting knife was also important.
He left his room.
Without turning on the lights, he reached the living room.
He picked up the first jacket he found. His old army jacket. As usual, he had left it hanging on the sofa right in front of the television. There, it had been waiting for him..., how long now? How long had it been since he retired from the army due to injuries and returned to this land that now felt strange to him, a completely different country, a country full of aliens with their own customs and ways of thinking, where he had no place?
'Someone' couldn't remember.
He supposed it didn't matter.
That, in reality, was the least of it. Deep down in his heart, he had always wanted to die violently. That's why he had joined the army. It was just that no one had managed to kill him in those bloody years. Just because he wanted to die didn't mean he was going to let just anyone kill him.
It was a twisted way of thinking, but he had stopped being a normal person a long time ago.
Perhaps he had never been one, deep down in his heart. In the dark waters of the abyss of...
(Azazel)
In any case, even before he was born, the human had 'died,' giving birth to a demon.
And today he would die. Sooner or later he would die.
But, he wouldn't leave this world alone.
Prepared for the massacre, or at least as prepared as he could ever be, 'someone' ran out of his house. The door wasn't locked, so he opened it by pushing it with his shoulder and all the strength of his trained body.
He raised the rifle and shot the first person he saw, a woman with her back to him. He didn't even see her. Even now, as she writhed on the ground, choking on her own blood with her hands on the gunshot wound, as if she could do something, she must have been trying to understand what the hell had happened.
There were screams, of course. But, now that he thought about it, hadn't the screams started before he pulled the trigger? Ah, whatever, whatever. In the end that wasn't important.
His first victim had been boring. He should have waited for her to turn around. He couldn't make the hands of the clock move backwards, but he could rectify his mistake.
He had never thought the hunting knife would be useful so soon.
Someone grabbed the woman by the hair and pulled it back, exposing her neck. And then he slit her throat, but only after she processed it, understood what was happening. Who was responsible for her end. He slit her throat as if she were a pig and damn, he enjoyed it like a child.
Someone stood up, with a wide smile. The blood of another person covering his body seemed unreal under the streetlight.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a dark shape.
He turned around, his heart in his fist. Suddenly, just like that, his pleasure had turned into tension... No wonder. It was a guy in a costume, and he hadn't been living in a cave for the last few decades. He knew very well what that meant.
The insect eyes and those jaws made him look like a monster from one of his worst nightmares, a humanoid insect or a half-insect human, in any case, repulsive and terrifying. To make matters worse, he must have had some power. He didn't think it was just a stupid costume, although he didn't recognize a hero or villain in that suit.
He acted quickly.
His best chance against someone with superpowers was simply that, to strike decisively before he had time to act.
Unfortunately, fear slowed him down for a couple of seconds.
Almost nothing, but it was enough for the cape to backtrack, taking refuge behind a house. He didn't hear a scream, not even a slight gasp. He doubted he had hit him. If it was a new hero or villain, independent, he wouldn't have many resources. He doubted that suit was bulletproof.
'Someone' didn't need to reload yet. He hadn't fired that much, and he would never lose count. It was like the beating of his heart, a natural process.
Every time he pulled the trigger, his whole body vibrated and he felt alive.
That was enough.
That would have to be enough until he suffered the violent death he sought. Perhaps, instead of a large-scale massacre, all he needed to PROVE something was to take down one person with superpowers.
Maybe he just needed to slit that damn insect's throat!
4
Taylor, crouched behind a house after barely dodging a bullet, was wondering why the hell she had thought she could be a superhero.
A complete stranger had appeared to save her from putting her life at risk to defend a group of teenage villains (but what bad luck, why had she heard everything except the most important part?).
Now no one would come to save her.
She had to stop that lunatic, that lunatic who didn't even have superpowers, or she would die miserably like that woman... In front of her eyes, without being able to do anything, great job, great job.
And the enemy was just a normal guy with a gun, not a supervillain. She had already said that, but for some reason she couldn't get it out of her head, as if that were the most important thing.
In any case, being a superhero... She never believed it would be easy, but it wasn't at all what she had imagined.
"He killed that woman in front of my eyes," she whispered to herself, her voice drowned out by the screams of frightened people, hoping a hero would come to save them and the roar of bullets that buzzed closer and closer. Her legs were trembling and if no bullet had hit her so far as it went through the wood, it had been mostly a bit of luck, right? The luck of being alive to continue suffering. "Why am I hesitating? Stopping him? It's obvious that I have to... kill him."
Yes.
It was something horrible that she preferred not to think about, that no one wanted to see themselves forced to do. But it would be self-defense. No one would blame her for killing him. Heck, they'd probably give her a medal. She knew that perfectly well, so she had to stop dithering and act.
She had been doing it.
While the lunatic who wanted to become a mass murderer continued to shoot at her cover and approach, she had been gathering swarms of bugs in the darkness. They were just waiting for the command.
She should kill him, right? Trying to simply 'stop' him wasn't worth it when more lives could be lost in the process, just because she tried to be virtuous—an idea childish and hollow compared to the weight of innocent lives.
She had the right to take justice into her own hands.
Whether she decided to kill or stop, she had to take a look. She could sense all sorts of things through the bugs, but it wasn't like she could see through their eyes. She couldn't direct them to the shooter blindly.
So, she needed to take a risky peek.
She nearly had her head blown off. She saw the black hole forming in the wall mere millimeters from her mask. Close, too close.
The lunatic with the rifle was also too close...
But he had fired too much, he had to reload.
Taylor swallowed hard.
She wouldn't get another chance.
Justice, injustice, what should be and what was. What did all that matter now? She just wanted to live... and go home!
She gave the order.
5
Kazuya hadn't moved an inch from where he was. He hadn't been able to muster the strength to do so. So, he still lay in the darkness of the sewer, amid the rubble. Breathing like a wild beast.
It didn't matter in what miserable state he found himself.
What mattered was that he was recovering, not slowly dying. He was definitely recovering, and when he did...
"I will defeat you, Azazel... and your power will be mine... forever. I am no piece... on your game board, and if I am, I will throw the damn table over and set it on fire. I swear it. I swear it. I swear ittttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt!"
There was no one to hear him, but it didn't matter.
Kazuya howled his declaration of victory toward the heart of the skies tinged with black velvet, heralding a storm that would sweep away everything.
6
Danny heard the door open.
If circumstances had been different, he surely would have pretended to be still asleep. To not pressure her, not to demand too much of his daughter, who was already having a tough enough time.
He wanted to help her, of course. To be there for her.
But he wanted her to feel like she could come to him and tell him things, instead of meddling and forcing her to talk about the horrible reality and her worst fears. Danny was simply trying to be a good father, even though he had never had a good example.
He could say that he had done the best he could.
He just wished that it was enough, because it clearly wasn't. Taylor had barely told him anything since the incident, kept him at a distance. And now, she had felt the need to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night, without saying anything, in a neighborhood like this.
He felt sorry for her, but clearly it was time to intervene.
If he didn't do it now, he never would. Besides...
He had spent the whole night awake and watching TV. After the horrible things he had seen on TV, he had almost run out of the house looking for her...
And what he saw there...
It was a person in disguise. A cape, or a thug trying to pass as that to make things easier? In any case, his heart jumped into his throat. Danny stepped back, thinking that on top of everything they were going to rob them of the little they had, and that Taylor was still out there, somewhere, still in danger. If she wasn't dead already.
This person in disguise, cape or whatever it was, was covered in blood from head to toe. And shaking violently. Dying?
No.
"Oh, shit." The voice of his daughter, clearly, even through the mask. A possibility he hadn't even dared to think about. "It's... It's not mine."
The blood? It was good to know that, but it wasn't the most important thing right now, what was happening here? He felt like his world... was swaying and crumbling in the same way as when Annette died.
He didn't know what the hell to say.
Then, as if he hadn't had enough...
Taylor screamed in rage and frustration, but it was nothing compared to the sound of the air raid sirens.
7
"We've found him."
Kazuya didn't recognize the voice. He couldn't even see anything, though he doubted that would have helped. Anyway, the identity of the newcomer was the least of his concerns.
The important thing was what the hell he was here to do. With him, because he had found him.
But he couldn't see, he couldn't move, nor could he think. Only a few thin threads still tied him to consciousness. Kazuya was floating in a dark sea, deprived of everything, and the voice of the stranger barely reached him in some way. That was all.
Yes, that was it, he was just losing consciousness. He wouldn't die by any means!
"Let's hope he recovers soon... and that he has answers."
There were two of them now.
Once he recovered, he would teach a lesson to the fools who had dared lay hands on him, whoever they were, and to that monster arrogant enough to believe he could control him.
He swore it.
STORM RISING (Normal): FIN
Azazel had just emerged from his body.
The creature was over ten feet tall. It should have torn him to pieces in the process, but Kazuya was just as bad off as before it had emerged.
He vaguely understood that Azazel had transformed his body into a kind of portal and had emerged as if passing through the surface of a lake.
It wasn't something as 'physical' as it might seem, or he would undoubtedly be dead.
But the sewer tunnel where he had taken refuge had no such advantages. It began to collapse even before the creature stood upright. The debris slid over the shoulders of the monster, naturally causing no harm; it might as well have been a shower of cherry blossoms for all the effect it had.
Screams. Above, on the street, humans were scattering like rabbits at the approach of a fox.
Among the rubble, breathing heavily, Kazuya focused his rage and burned it with his gaze. He wasn't about to back down, not even a bit, even in such a situation. Although his mind knew that perhaps the most sensible thing would be to crawl away, he would never humble himself. Not before this monster, nor before anyone. He had sworn years ago, after all, that 'that day' would be the last. That he would never bow his head again.
"Kill you?" Azazel spoke directly into his head, invading him. Kazuya clenched his teeth. "If I wanted you dead, you would be. How could I let go of such a useful piece? Don't be ridiculous."
A laugh that might sound like the final agonized screams of someone lost in the depths of a cavern, twisted by echoes once they reached the outside. A laugh halfway between a scream, a sob, and laughter.
"You're still useful to me, Kazuya."
Azazel was a demon with gray skin and blazing red eyes. A demon covered in crystals that emitted a purple light. In fact, his own skin sometimes glowed the same color... Through his cracked chest, though not a wound, it was clear that these crystals acted as his innards. It was something that defied all logic and rationality, just like the Devil Gene he had brought into this world.
The Rectifier of All Things.
The Destroyer.
But... not his end, not his final moment. Definitely.
"Do you think you can... look down on me, dog? You waited until I was... weakened by someone else. You're afraid of me. Even now, you're trembling, mangy dog."
Azazel's expression didn't change in the slightest. After all, he didn't need such a thing to make his reaction clear.
"So eager for me to kill you? Even a brash child like you should know that you can do nothing to stop it now."
And it was mockery. He mocked, Kazuya would have preferred a thousand times that he rage, even if that meant being crushed by him a second later. He had already returned from the dead once, but he could not tolerate insults to his pride. Yes, it was absolutely intolerable.
So, naturally, he completely lost his head.
"Come on, kill me. Take advantage and kill me now, before I can recover. You wouldn't... want to risk it. Coward. Come on, let's go, let's go!"
Yes. He completely lost his head. He couldn't have controlled himself even if he wanted to. His countless enemies and the pieces he possessed would never have imagined, not in a million years, that he could behave this way.
They called him the emperor of cold blood.
He was supposed to be the kind of person who crushed his enemies without feeling anything, without letting anything or anyone affect him.
And, not only that.
Kazuya began to crawl towards Azazel as if he could do something against the demon with his body broken in every conceivable way and his strength nearly exhausted.
He was crawling across the ground, but not humbling himself in the least. In reality, he was demonstrating his great willpower, which was as superhuman as his physical strength.
He moved forward with determination, despite all he now felt was pain.
He moved forward, despite the fact that even crawling across the ground required such an effort that it made him vomit blood. And for what purpose? He could neither fight Azazel nor escape. But he kept doing it, without a moment's doubt. He couldn't be more stubborn.
Azazel simply looked away, directing his gaze toward the distant horizon.
"As I said, you are still useful to me, that's all. I'm not going to kill you. And I'm not going to wait for you to lie with a human, I don't think such a thing will happen twice. Goodbye, Kazuya. I have much work to do."
His enormous wings stirred, raising a tempest. He took flight. Kazuya knew that to spread the Devil Gene. He had made it very clear.
To spread the Gene in this different world into which he had ended up without knowing how or why.
2
Kayden finally came home, holding the shopping bags. Naturally, She had arrived so late only because that wasn't the only thing she had been doing. At least she could finally rest. Her eyes were already closing.
"Theo, have you taken good care of Aster? Theo?" she whispered, not wanting to wake the baby.
She received no response.
But that was not unusual. Although sometimes Theo stayed up very late watching television, since he had trouble sleeping, at this time he could well be sleeping peacefully in his bed.
Hopefully. He deserved a good rest.
She went into the living room and turned on the lights. The TV was still on, though muted. Theo was nowhere to be found. So what? Didn't she just explain why this wasn't strange?
Yes.
Yes.
Her fear made no sense, but Kayden's heart was submerged in the dark waters of a terrible premonition, and she couldn't escape. The dark waters...
As she stepped back into the hallway, she heard just that. Water. Dripping water.
No. No. Don't think about nonsense.
It can't be.
Kayden approached the bathroom. The closer she got, the louder the dripping became... naturally... How could it not get louder? Kayden stepped in a puddle, looking down as if to check that it really was there, that she hadn't somehow imagined it.
The water... was sliding under the door... and from inside, it continued dripping incessantly...
Drip drop, drip drop...
Maybe she was dreaming. That's what she desperately thought as she reached for the doorknob, turned it, and...
The door opened creaking like the jaws of some cruel beast.
When she saw what was on the other side, Kayden screamed, she couldn't stop screaming... she screamed as if she was going mad, no, she screamed as if she wished to go mad.
3
The dark waters were not a lake, they were not a river.
They were an ocean. Therefore, this had only just begun. Someone, their name was unimportant, woke up with a start, wrapped in the sheets as if they were a shroud. Covered in sweat and breathing like a wild beast.
What kind of dream, or nightmare, had he seen?
This someone didn't remember. In any case, what had pulled him out of the world of dreams was a dark impulse. Indeed, it was something he had thought about more times than he could count.
Everyone sometimes thought of doing terrible things. Who hadn't fantasized at least once, for example, about knocking out their asshole boss's teeth? But there were no thought crimes. As long as it stayed in the imagination, it was no sin.
However, today he would definitely... cross the line without looking back. And he was talking about doing 'something' much worse than punching his boss.
Someone opened the closet. There were all kinds of things there. First of all, he took an AK-47 and inserted the magazine, then took more, all that could fit between the pockets of his pants and his jacket. He still had to look for the jacket, but that was another story.
Also...
Grenades, of course. A few grenades would come in handy.
Lastly, although he doubted it would be of much use, he hung a hunting knife from his belt. It didn't have to be particularly useful. If he were someone cold and pragmatic, he would do only what was strictly necessary and seek to end 'that' without problems. However, he intended to enjoy it, so the hunting knife was also important.
He left his room.
Without turning on the lights, he reached the living room.
He picked up the first jacket he found. His old army jacket. As usual, he had left it hanging on the sofa right in front of the television. There, it had been waiting for him..., how long now? How long had it been since he retired from the army due to injuries and returned to this land that now felt strange to him, a completely different country, a country full of aliens with their own customs and ways of thinking, where he had no place?
'Someone' couldn't remember.
He supposed it didn't matter.
That, in reality, was the least of it. Deep down in his heart, he had always wanted to die violently. That's why he had joined the army. It was just that no one had managed to kill him in those bloody years. Just because he wanted to die didn't mean he was going to let just anyone kill him.
It was a twisted way of thinking, but he had stopped being a normal person a long time ago.
Perhaps he had never been one, deep down in his heart. In the dark waters of the abyss of...
(Azazel)
In any case, even before he was born, the human had 'died,' giving birth to a demon.
And today he would die. Sooner or later he would die.
But, he wouldn't leave this world alone.
Prepared for the massacre, or at least as prepared as he could ever be, 'someone' ran out of his house. The door wasn't locked, so he opened it by pushing it with his shoulder and all the strength of his trained body.
He raised the rifle and shot the first person he saw, a woman with her back to him. He didn't even see her. Even now, as she writhed on the ground, choking on her own blood with her hands on the gunshot wound, as if she could do something, she must have been trying to understand what the hell had happened.
There were screams, of course. But, now that he thought about it, hadn't the screams started before he pulled the trigger? Ah, whatever, whatever. In the end that wasn't important.
His first victim had been boring. He should have waited for her to turn around. He couldn't make the hands of the clock move backwards, but he could rectify his mistake.
He had never thought the hunting knife would be useful so soon.
Someone grabbed the woman by the hair and pulled it back, exposing her neck. And then he slit her throat, but only after she processed it, understood what was happening. Who was responsible for her end. He slit her throat as if she were a pig and damn, he enjoyed it like a child.
Someone stood up, with a wide smile. The blood of another person covering his body seemed unreal under the streetlight.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a dark shape.
He turned around, his heart in his fist. Suddenly, just like that, his pleasure had turned into tension... No wonder. It was a guy in a costume, and he hadn't been living in a cave for the last few decades. He knew very well what that meant.
The insect eyes and those jaws made him look like a monster from one of his worst nightmares, a humanoid insect or a half-insect human, in any case, repulsive and terrifying. To make matters worse, he must have had some power. He didn't think it was just a stupid costume, although he didn't recognize a hero or villain in that suit.
He acted quickly.
His best chance against someone with superpowers was simply that, to strike decisively before he had time to act.
Unfortunately, fear slowed him down for a couple of seconds.
Almost nothing, but it was enough for the cape to backtrack, taking refuge behind a house. He didn't hear a scream, not even a slight gasp. He doubted he had hit him. If it was a new hero or villain, independent, he wouldn't have many resources. He doubted that suit was bulletproof.
'Someone' didn't need to reload yet. He hadn't fired that much, and he would never lose count. It was like the beating of his heart, a natural process.
Every time he pulled the trigger, his whole body vibrated and he felt alive.
That was enough.
That would have to be enough until he suffered the violent death he sought. Perhaps, instead of a large-scale massacre, all he needed to PROVE something was to take down one person with superpowers.
Maybe he just needed to slit that damn insect's throat!
4
Taylor, crouched behind a house after barely dodging a bullet, was wondering why the hell she had thought she could be a superhero.
A complete stranger had appeared to save her from putting her life at risk to defend a group of teenage villains (but what bad luck, why had she heard everything except the most important part?).
Now no one would come to save her.
She had to stop that lunatic, that lunatic who didn't even have superpowers, or she would die miserably like that woman... In front of her eyes, without being able to do anything, great job, great job.
And the enemy was just a normal guy with a gun, not a supervillain. She had already said that, but for some reason she couldn't get it out of her head, as if that were the most important thing.
In any case, being a superhero... She never believed it would be easy, but it wasn't at all what she had imagined.
"He killed that woman in front of my eyes," she whispered to herself, her voice drowned out by the screams of frightened people, hoping a hero would come to save them and the roar of bullets that buzzed closer and closer. Her legs were trembling and if no bullet had hit her so far as it went through the wood, it had been mostly a bit of luck, right? The luck of being alive to continue suffering. "Why am I hesitating? Stopping him? It's obvious that I have to... kill him."
Yes.
It was something horrible that she preferred not to think about, that no one wanted to see themselves forced to do. But it would be self-defense. No one would blame her for killing him. Heck, they'd probably give her a medal. She knew that perfectly well, so she had to stop dithering and act.
She had been doing it.
While the lunatic who wanted to become a mass murderer continued to shoot at her cover and approach, she had been gathering swarms of bugs in the darkness. They were just waiting for the command.
She should kill him, right? Trying to simply 'stop' him wasn't worth it when more lives could be lost in the process, just because she tried to be virtuous—an idea childish and hollow compared to the weight of innocent lives.
She had the right to take justice into her own hands.
Whether she decided to kill or stop, she had to take a look. She could sense all sorts of things through the bugs, but it wasn't like she could see through their eyes. She couldn't direct them to the shooter blindly.
So, she needed to take a risky peek.
She nearly had her head blown off. She saw the black hole forming in the wall mere millimeters from her mask. Close, too close.
The lunatic with the rifle was also too close...
But he had fired too much, he had to reload.
Taylor swallowed hard.
She wouldn't get another chance.
Justice, injustice, what should be and what was. What did all that matter now? She just wanted to live... and go home!
She gave the order.
5
Kazuya hadn't moved an inch from where he was. He hadn't been able to muster the strength to do so. So, he still lay in the darkness of the sewer, amid the rubble. Breathing like a wild beast.
It didn't matter in what miserable state he found himself.
What mattered was that he was recovering, not slowly dying. He was definitely recovering, and when he did...
"I will defeat you, Azazel... and your power will be mine... forever. I am no piece... on your game board, and if I am, I will throw the damn table over and set it on fire. I swear it. I swear it. I swear ittttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt!"
There was no one to hear him, but it didn't matter.
Kazuya howled his declaration of victory toward the heart of the skies tinged with black velvet, heralding a storm that would sweep away everything.
6
Danny heard the door open.
If circumstances had been different, he surely would have pretended to be still asleep. To not pressure her, not to demand too much of his daughter, who was already having a tough enough time.
He wanted to help her, of course. To be there for her.
But he wanted her to feel like she could come to him and tell him things, instead of meddling and forcing her to talk about the horrible reality and her worst fears. Danny was simply trying to be a good father, even though he had never had a good example.
He could say that he had done the best he could.
He just wished that it was enough, because it clearly wasn't. Taylor had barely told him anything since the incident, kept him at a distance. And now, she had felt the need to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night, without saying anything, in a neighborhood like this.
He felt sorry for her, but clearly it was time to intervene.
If he didn't do it now, he never would. Besides...
He had spent the whole night awake and watching TV. After the horrible things he had seen on TV, he had almost run out of the house looking for her...
And what he saw there...
It was a person in disguise. A cape, or a thug trying to pass as that to make things easier? In any case, his heart jumped into his throat. Danny stepped back, thinking that on top of everything they were going to rob them of the little they had, and that Taylor was still out there, somewhere, still in danger. If she wasn't dead already.
This person in disguise, cape or whatever it was, was covered in blood from head to toe. And shaking violently. Dying?
No.
"Oh, shit." The voice of his daughter, clearly, even through the mask. A possibility he hadn't even dared to think about. "It's... It's not mine."
The blood? It was good to know that, but it wasn't the most important thing right now, what was happening here? He felt like his world... was swaying and crumbling in the same way as when Annette died.
He didn't know what the hell to say.
Then, as if he hadn't had enough...
Taylor screamed in rage and frustration, but it was nothing compared to the sound of the air raid sirens.
7
"We've found him."
Kazuya didn't recognize the voice. He couldn't even see anything, though he doubted that would have helped. Anyway, the identity of the newcomer was the least of his concerns.
The important thing was what the hell he was here to do. With him, because he had found him.
But he couldn't see, he couldn't move, nor could he think. Only a few thin threads still tied him to consciousness. Kazuya was floating in a dark sea, deprived of everything, and the voice of the stranger barely reached him in some way. That was all.
Yes, that was it, he was just losing consciousness. He wouldn't die by any means!
"Let's hope he recovers soon... and that he has answers."
There were two of them now.
Once he recovered, he would teach a lesson to the fools who had dared lay hands on him, whoever they were, and to that monster arrogant enough to believe he could control him.
He swore it.
STORM RISING (Normal): FIN
STORM RISING (Climax)
STORM RISING (Climax)
1
Azazel ascended to the skies above Brockton Bay, his enormous silhouette framed by storm clouds, his arrival heralded by infernal trumpets resounding throughout the city. It was the reception he deserved, though he wasn't used to such a swift reaction to his arrival; it was as if he was known, almost, despite not even being from this world.
He also wasn't used to not knowing, but despite this being the first time in millennia that he didn't know something, the answer didn't bother him. It wouldn't change what he was here to do. What he was already doing.
His influence spread across the city, making people reveal their true faces.
Human beings hid their true selves under countless layers of lies. His job was to peel them away so they could unleash their ugliness. That was all.
He wasn't responsible for their actions. He simply allowed them to do what they wanted, what they had always wanted. Although, of course, it wasn't an act of kindness. Quite the opposite.
It was what they deserved. To endure themselves without the layers of lies that allowed the world to function like a Swiss watch.
Or rather, society.
Human society marched on smoothly, the world was dying, and no one cared. Sure, they could make some symbolic gestures to feel like better people, but in the end, if it didn't concern them, it wasn't their problem.
Voluntarily and selfishly, they had reduced the world to shreds. Now the sinners must atone in the only possible way, death.
Azazel spread his wings and his enormous arms as if to encompass all of Brockton Bay. His shadow, elongated by the afternoon sun, covered most of the city.
Perhaps they thought they were prepared for him, unlike the response Azazel was accustomed to (if it could be said he was accustomed to anything when he had been sealed for what was now the majority of his existence), that is, humans running around like headless chickens, looking for places to hide and covering their eyes because they preferred to believe they were simply living a nightmare.
But he would show them they weren't prepared, that they were nothing but presumptuous fools.
The storm that was rising would leave nothing standing in its wake.
2
Kazuya woke up the way he usually did when things went wrong.
With a start, gritting his teeth and roaring like a caged animal. Which he was, by the way. Quite the animal, and caged.
"I felt a bit bad, throwing him in a cell as soon as he was healed," said some guy, talking as if Kazuya wasn't right there. He wasn't alone; there were several people, each with a more ridiculous costume than the last. "But Piggot was right. He was ready to kill even before he realized he was locked up."
"Do you think these bars will hold me?" Kazuya asked, laughing in his face.
"They're not just bars, but no. We don't want to keep you locked up. We want your help."
"Funny way to show it."
"Well, if you weren't in there, maybe my guts would be painting the wall right now, so…"
"Dauntless." That wasn't even a name, just a word, and he didn't seem very dauntless anyway. Seemed more like he was full of arrogance. And stupidity. "That's enough."
The one who spoke was a woman dressed like a soldier, except for the mask covering half her face, making her look more like a petty thief, especially since it had the pattern of the United States flag.
Every time he saw an American, Kazuya couldn't help but think of Paul.
To him, he was the quintessential American. Loud, stupid, and very arrogant.
That woman wasn't a very good American based on those criteria. Her voice was determined but soft.
"Reviewing footage from nearby cameras, we saw a monster emerging from inside you. We immediately sounded the air raid sirens, assuming it could be a new Endbringer. It seems to be like the Simurgh, judging by the strange incidents that started happening throughout the city. People losing control, crossing the line. We want your help to deal with that beast, which for now is codenamed…"
"Azazel."
The woman frowned.
"Wait, you mean…?"
"You seem to think it was born then, but it's been bothering me for a while."
"Yeah, it just emerged from your body, leaving you in pieces. A small nuisance, nothing more," said a man dressed all in red.
He thought he was funny, huh?
The woman beside him didn't find it funny either, responding by elbowing him to shut him up. She must have seen what Kazuya was capable of, and had the sense to realize that Kazuya was simply playing along for fun, nothing more.
If he wanted to break free, he would have already done it.
If he wanted to go through them, literally and figuratively, he would have already done it. He was playing with fire. With a goddamn forest fire.
"Assault," said the American woman. He had considered the possibility that she wasn't, but why else would she put the country's flag all over her face? Maybe it was something Kazuya, who had renounced his nationality, couldn't understand. "I told you to stay quiet." She sighed deeply. "As I was saying, I'm glad to hear that. It probably isn't a new Endbringer, then."
"I don't know what you're talking about, but I'm sure it's more dangerous than those Endbringers."
"That's impossible," Dauntless said.
"Neither I nor that thing are from this world. Don't give me that dumb look," Kazuya said. Yes, the helmet he wore allowed him to see enough to judge his expression. "While I was unconscious, you must have searched all the records, checked that I don't exist. In this world, at least."
"People can disappear off the map without being from another world," the female soldier said. "But I understand, that explains a lot. Now…"
Kazuya kicked the bars, which went flying over the heads of those present and crashed into a wall. They would have taken more than one person out if they hadn't reacted quickly, ducking down.
"Kazuya. My name is Kazuya Mishima. So much talk about cooperation, and you didn't even ask my name. You're not very good at this."
The difference between Kazuya and those costumed clowns was that he had no need to fake sincerity. He could do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, however he wanted.
No matter what world he ended up in, some things never changed.
"Give us all the information you have," the woman continued. "For now, the creature isn't attacking… directly, so we have time to formulate a plan."
"Look…"
"Miss Militia."
"That's not a name, but fine. I don't need a plan. And I don't need you. I've been playing along to see what you had to say, but I'm already bored of this charade."
To her credit, the woman didn't look away.
"When this is over, we'll help you return to your world. I can see it in your eyes. You have unfinished business."
Kazuya frowned briefly and then, slowly, nodded. He didn't like giving in to anyone, especially so easily, but he had priorities.
3
Kazuya finished explaining to Miss Militia and the rest (they insisted on introducing themselves, no matter how little he cared, so now he could associate names but not faces with each stupid costume) everything he knew about Azazel.
Not only did cooperating with someone always leave a bad taste in his mouth (his teeth still occasionally ground thinking about the couple of minutes he had fought side by side with Heihachi, even if it was just to stab him in the back), it couldn't be said that it had been worth it as he didn't have much information.
They hoped to come up with a plan based on that information, and with those crumbs, they were left in the same place. But hey, it couldn't be said that Kazuya hadn't fulfilled his part. It wasn't his fault they had miscalibrated their expectations.
Miss Militia took it philosophically.
Meanwhile, Armsmaster seemed furious, even though only the lower half of his face was visible.
Which didn't say much.
He had been angry since he entered the room and saw him.
Only he would know why since Kazuya hadn't laid a hand on him. No, Lung had taken care of him before he had to. But that half-man was inferior to him. The fact that he only threw murderous glances and the occasional sarcastic comment was proof of that. So Kazuya wouldn't stoop to answering his provocations.
He had made it clear that if he had something against him, he would fight him at any time, and he hadn't responded. Anyone could see he was like a chihuahua with its tail between its legs, trembling. In other words, all bark and no bite.
Someone contacted Armsmaster before any of those present had a bright idea on how to defeat Azazel (Kazuya had a very simple and direct idea, but for now, he'd play along, all in order to go home and kick Hiehachi's ass). He put a hand next to his helmet, asked a question, and listened. Not for too long. It turned out because forcibly the message was as simple and direct as he would like to handle things.
"The monster has left Brockton Bay," Armsmaster said. He didn't seem relieved at all.
"What does this mean?" Miss Militia asked. Of course, staring at him.
It seemed fair and nothing strange. First of all, Azazel would have only decided to start with this city because it was where Kazuya had ended up for one reason or another. Like, since I'm here anyways, let's go.
But that raised a very important question. What had distracted him? What could have become his top priority? He wanted to answer that question. Kazuya's top priority was to return to his world to kill his greatest enemy and finally achieve peace, perhaps even that elusive thing they called happiness. But it wouldn't hurt to defeat Azazel and absorb his power. He believed his current level of power would be enough for Heihachi, but, well...
Since I'm here anyways, let's go, he thought.
"Kazuya?"
"What are the major organizations...?"
"Could you stop that?" It was formulated as a question, but yelled, it sounded more like an order. And nobody gave him orders. Nobody.
"What are you talking about?"
"Making us understand you while speaking a different language nobody here knows. I'm surprised you're all so calm; it's mental manipulation, no matter what it's for! There's no such thing as harmless mental manipulation!"
"What are you talking about? This is normal. Are you saying in this world, you have to study languages to understand them?"
"Yes!" he replied, banging the table with both fists to give pathetic emphasis to that word.
"Hmm," Kazuya scoffed. "Terribly inefficient."
"Armsmaster, control yourself," Miss Militia said. "We have no reason to think he's hostile, and right now, we have other priorities."
"Hey man, hey," Assault said, patting him on the shoulder to get his attention.
"Don't you start too."
"Seriously, don't embarrass me," Battery said.
"Yeah, sorry, sweetheart, but I have a question that I'm sure is on everyone's mind. Just one question. Then I'll shut up. Don't make that face; I can be quiet."
"Just ask it already," Kazuya said.
"If everyone in your world can understand each other without any problems, then why do you have multiple languages?" Of course, he had explained that the layout of his world was more or less the same as theirs. Except for superpowers, the costumedidiots (well, not as many), and those Endbringers, who seemed overrated. "How did that happen? Instead of a universal language?"
Kazuya considered it for a few seconds.
He soon suffered a terrible headache.
"Shut up."
4
"In short," said Emily Piggot, director of the Protectorate of Brockton Bay, "these are the most likely top priorities of the potential Endbringer from another world, designated Azazel: the Slaughterhouse Nine, The Guild, The Elite... and the Birdcage. Anything to add?"
"If I had anything, I would have said it," Kazuya replied. "I don't work for you; I don't need your permission to speak."
"Such a charming fellow."
5
Dragon was the one who found the answer to that question. Thousands of cameras captured the image of the beast and sent all kinds of robots to intercept it, while sounding the alarm. But she wasn't worried. Even if it was a new Endbringer, it wouldn't be the first time she had repelled an assault on the Birdcage.
One of the largest concentrations of Parahumans on the planet. It was natural that it would be a target for those monsters.
Behemoth had been stopped before reaching it.
The same would happen now, although this Azazel was already much closer than Behemoth had ever been. I didn't think it would have any problem.
Except, well, that one of her mech prototypes was named Azazel. After this, she would have to change its name, because it would be like calling her water-spouting mech Leviathan, and names weren't her strong suit.
But well, it wasn't the time to think about those trivialities.
Many lives depended on her.
Right now, only on her, the cavalry would take time to arrive. They weren't innocent lives, but that didn't make them worth less. They were all people, after all, and they had started out innocent, like anyone else.
STORM RISING (Climax): FIN
1
Azazel ascended to the skies above Brockton Bay, his enormous silhouette framed by storm clouds, his arrival heralded by infernal trumpets resounding throughout the city. It was the reception he deserved, though he wasn't used to such a swift reaction to his arrival; it was as if he was known, almost, despite not even being from this world.
He also wasn't used to not knowing, but despite this being the first time in millennia that he didn't know something, the answer didn't bother him. It wouldn't change what he was here to do. What he was already doing.
His influence spread across the city, making people reveal their true faces.
Human beings hid their true selves under countless layers of lies. His job was to peel them away so they could unleash their ugliness. That was all.
He wasn't responsible for their actions. He simply allowed them to do what they wanted, what they had always wanted. Although, of course, it wasn't an act of kindness. Quite the opposite.
It was what they deserved. To endure themselves without the layers of lies that allowed the world to function like a Swiss watch.
Or rather, society.
Human society marched on smoothly, the world was dying, and no one cared. Sure, they could make some symbolic gestures to feel like better people, but in the end, if it didn't concern them, it wasn't their problem.
Voluntarily and selfishly, they had reduced the world to shreds. Now the sinners must atone in the only possible way, death.
Azazel spread his wings and his enormous arms as if to encompass all of Brockton Bay. His shadow, elongated by the afternoon sun, covered most of the city.
Perhaps they thought they were prepared for him, unlike the response Azazel was accustomed to (if it could be said he was accustomed to anything when he had been sealed for what was now the majority of his existence), that is, humans running around like headless chickens, looking for places to hide and covering their eyes because they preferred to believe they were simply living a nightmare.
But he would show them they weren't prepared, that they were nothing but presumptuous fools.
The storm that was rising would leave nothing standing in its wake.
2
Kazuya woke up the way he usually did when things went wrong.
With a start, gritting his teeth and roaring like a caged animal. Which he was, by the way. Quite the animal, and caged.
"I felt a bit bad, throwing him in a cell as soon as he was healed," said some guy, talking as if Kazuya wasn't right there. He wasn't alone; there were several people, each with a more ridiculous costume than the last. "But Piggot was right. He was ready to kill even before he realized he was locked up."
"Do you think these bars will hold me?" Kazuya asked, laughing in his face.
"They're not just bars, but no. We don't want to keep you locked up. We want your help."
"Funny way to show it."
"Well, if you weren't in there, maybe my guts would be painting the wall right now, so…"
"Dauntless." That wasn't even a name, just a word, and he didn't seem very dauntless anyway. Seemed more like he was full of arrogance. And stupidity. "That's enough."
The one who spoke was a woman dressed like a soldier, except for the mask covering half her face, making her look more like a petty thief, especially since it had the pattern of the United States flag.
Every time he saw an American, Kazuya couldn't help but think of Paul.
To him, he was the quintessential American. Loud, stupid, and very arrogant.
That woman wasn't a very good American based on those criteria. Her voice was determined but soft.
"Reviewing footage from nearby cameras, we saw a monster emerging from inside you. We immediately sounded the air raid sirens, assuming it could be a new Endbringer. It seems to be like the Simurgh, judging by the strange incidents that started happening throughout the city. People losing control, crossing the line. We want your help to deal with that beast, which for now is codenamed…"
"Azazel."
The woman frowned.
"Wait, you mean…?"
"You seem to think it was born then, but it's been bothering me for a while."
"Yeah, it just emerged from your body, leaving you in pieces. A small nuisance, nothing more," said a man dressed all in red.
He thought he was funny, huh?
The woman beside him didn't find it funny either, responding by elbowing him to shut him up. She must have seen what Kazuya was capable of, and had the sense to realize that Kazuya was simply playing along for fun, nothing more.
If he wanted to break free, he would have already done it.
If he wanted to go through them, literally and figuratively, he would have already done it. He was playing with fire. With a goddamn forest fire.
"Assault," said the American woman. He had considered the possibility that she wasn't, but why else would she put the country's flag all over her face? Maybe it was something Kazuya, who had renounced his nationality, couldn't understand. "I told you to stay quiet." She sighed deeply. "As I was saying, I'm glad to hear that. It probably isn't a new Endbringer, then."
"I don't know what you're talking about, but I'm sure it's more dangerous than those Endbringers."
"That's impossible," Dauntless said.
"Neither I nor that thing are from this world. Don't give me that dumb look," Kazuya said. Yes, the helmet he wore allowed him to see enough to judge his expression. "While I was unconscious, you must have searched all the records, checked that I don't exist. In this world, at least."
"People can disappear off the map without being from another world," the female soldier said. "But I understand, that explains a lot. Now…"
Kazuya kicked the bars, which went flying over the heads of those present and crashed into a wall. They would have taken more than one person out if they hadn't reacted quickly, ducking down.
"Kazuya. My name is Kazuya Mishima. So much talk about cooperation, and you didn't even ask my name. You're not very good at this."
The difference between Kazuya and those costumed clowns was that he had no need to fake sincerity. He could do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, however he wanted.
No matter what world he ended up in, some things never changed.
"Give us all the information you have," the woman continued. "For now, the creature isn't attacking… directly, so we have time to formulate a plan."
"Look…"
"Miss Militia."
"That's not a name, but fine. I don't need a plan. And I don't need you. I've been playing along to see what you had to say, but I'm already bored of this charade."
To her credit, the woman didn't look away.
"When this is over, we'll help you return to your world. I can see it in your eyes. You have unfinished business."
Kazuya frowned briefly and then, slowly, nodded. He didn't like giving in to anyone, especially so easily, but he had priorities.
3
Kazuya finished explaining to Miss Militia and the rest (they insisted on introducing themselves, no matter how little he cared, so now he could associate names but not faces with each stupid costume) everything he knew about Azazel.
Not only did cooperating with someone always leave a bad taste in his mouth (his teeth still occasionally ground thinking about the couple of minutes he had fought side by side with Heihachi, even if it was just to stab him in the back), it couldn't be said that it had been worth it as he didn't have much information.
They hoped to come up with a plan based on that information, and with those crumbs, they were left in the same place. But hey, it couldn't be said that Kazuya hadn't fulfilled his part. It wasn't his fault they had miscalibrated their expectations.
Miss Militia took it philosophically.
Meanwhile, Armsmaster seemed furious, even though only the lower half of his face was visible.
Which didn't say much.
He had been angry since he entered the room and saw him.
Only he would know why since Kazuya hadn't laid a hand on him. No, Lung had taken care of him before he had to. But that half-man was inferior to him. The fact that he only threw murderous glances and the occasional sarcastic comment was proof of that. So Kazuya wouldn't stoop to answering his provocations.
He had made it clear that if he had something against him, he would fight him at any time, and he hadn't responded. Anyone could see he was like a chihuahua with its tail between its legs, trembling. In other words, all bark and no bite.
Someone contacted Armsmaster before any of those present had a bright idea on how to defeat Azazel (Kazuya had a very simple and direct idea, but for now, he'd play along, all in order to go home and kick Hiehachi's ass). He put a hand next to his helmet, asked a question, and listened. Not for too long. It turned out because forcibly the message was as simple and direct as he would like to handle things.
"The monster has left Brockton Bay," Armsmaster said. He didn't seem relieved at all.
"What does this mean?" Miss Militia asked. Of course, staring at him.
It seemed fair and nothing strange. First of all, Azazel would have only decided to start with this city because it was where Kazuya had ended up for one reason or another. Like, since I'm here anyways, let's go.
But that raised a very important question. What had distracted him? What could have become his top priority? He wanted to answer that question. Kazuya's top priority was to return to his world to kill his greatest enemy and finally achieve peace, perhaps even that elusive thing they called happiness. But it wouldn't hurt to defeat Azazel and absorb his power. He believed his current level of power would be enough for Heihachi, but, well...
Since I'm here anyways, let's go, he thought.
"Kazuya?"
"What are the major organizations...?"
"Could you stop that?" It was formulated as a question, but yelled, it sounded more like an order. And nobody gave him orders. Nobody.
"What are you talking about?"
"Making us understand you while speaking a different language nobody here knows. I'm surprised you're all so calm; it's mental manipulation, no matter what it's for! There's no such thing as harmless mental manipulation!"
"What are you talking about? This is normal. Are you saying in this world, you have to study languages to understand them?"
"Yes!" he replied, banging the table with both fists to give pathetic emphasis to that word.
"Hmm," Kazuya scoffed. "Terribly inefficient."
"Armsmaster, control yourself," Miss Militia said. "We have no reason to think he's hostile, and right now, we have other priorities."
"Hey man, hey," Assault said, patting him on the shoulder to get his attention.
"Don't you start too."
"Seriously, don't embarrass me," Battery said.
"Yeah, sorry, sweetheart, but I have a question that I'm sure is on everyone's mind. Just one question. Then I'll shut up. Don't make that face; I can be quiet."
"Just ask it already," Kazuya said.
"If everyone in your world can understand each other without any problems, then why do you have multiple languages?" Of course, he had explained that the layout of his world was more or less the same as theirs. Except for superpowers, the costumedidiots (well, not as many), and those Endbringers, who seemed overrated. "How did that happen? Instead of a universal language?"
Kazuya considered it for a few seconds.
He soon suffered a terrible headache.
"Shut up."
4
"In short," said Emily Piggot, director of the Protectorate of Brockton Bay, "these are the most likely top priorities of the potential Endbringer from another world, designated Azazel: the Slaughterhouse Nine, The Guild, The Elite... and the Birdcage. Anything to add?"
"If I had anything, I would have said it," Kazuya replied. "I don't work for you; I don't need your permission to speak."
"Such a charming fellow."
5
Dragon was the one who found the answer to that question. Thousands of cameras captured the image of the beast and sent all kinds of robots to intercept it, while sounding the alarm. But she wasn't worried. Even if it was a new Endbringer, it wouldn't be the first time she had repelled an assault on the Birdcage.
One of the largest concentrations of Parahumans on the planet. It was natural that it would be a target for those monsters.
Behemoth had been stopped before reaching it.
The same would happen now, although this Azazel was already much closer than Behemoth had ever been. I didn't think it would have any problem.
Except, well, that one of her mech prototypes was named Azazel. After this, she would have to change its name, because it would be like calling her water-spouting mech Leviathan, and names weren't her strong suit.
But well, it wasn't the time to think about those trivialities.
Many lives depended on her.
Right now, only on her, the cavalry would take time to arrive. They weren't innocent lives, but that didn't make them worth less. They were all people, after all, and they had started out innocent, like anyone else.
STORM RISING (Climax): FIN
10. Birdcage – Demonic Hunting Ground (1)
Chapter 10: Birdcage – Demonic Hunting Ground (1)
1
To prevent prisoners from escaping, the Birdcage had many defenses and redundancies. Inside a hollow mountain, shrunk to the size of a ball, containment foam, three thousand anti-gravity drones, ready to spring into action at the first sign of an anomaly.
But the defenses against invasion consisted mainly of herself.
To end the problem or at least contain it until reinforcements arrived. She had only had to defend the Birdcage from the Endbringers once, when Behemoth attacked, and it had never come so close.
Even so, Dragon would succeed.
She had to.
It wasn't an enemy whose capabilities she was unaware of. At least not entirely, as all the information provided by Mishima Kazuya had been transmitted to her.
There was no way to know how complete his information was, but it was better than nothing.
Let's do it, she thought.
The monster with the codename Azazel reached the first significant obstacle. A network of nanomachines, invisible to the human eye, that could destroy a city. However, the monster passed through the network as if it were nothing, tearing it to pieces. It had no effect.
That this monster was a fourth Endbringer, despite coming from an alternate world, was nothing more than the most fatalistic theory hastily concocted from very limited facts.
However, whatever it was, it had just demonstrated that its durability was nothing to envy of the Endbringers.
Her mechanical suits approached the creature, floating a few feet above the ground. Most of those suits had been designed to deal with the Dragonslayers, while they continued to evade and humiliate her in some way. But that was mainly because she limited herself to using non-lethal armaments.
Now, however, she had no reason to hold back.
A rain of missiles.
The heavy rain descended on the giant.
Behemoth had approached in the same way. It didn't really mean anything, but it was still true. Slow and heavy. As if it believed it couldn't be stopped anyway.
What could she do if it started running?
In any case, the explosions covered the creature with a cloud of dust. But only for a moment. It walked through it a moment later, unscathed. The first salvo had no effect... At least, no visible effect.
Where is the difference?
If she had a tongue, she would have clicked it.
Azazel grabbed one of her suits in the air, not important or advanced enough in its development process for her to have given it a name. In any case, it broke it with the same ease that an angry child could break a toy, twisting its limbs, tearing off its head, and then smashing it against the ground several times. No child's toy would explode like it did afterward, of course.
The rest of the suits would share the same fate soon.
Dragon knew that, regardless of the designated target being Azazel, she had to treat this as a fight against an Endbringer. That is, the victory condition was only to do enough damage to make it prefer to retreat to lick its wounds. She shouldn't dream of a more decisive way to win.
A deep, cruel laugh. Needless to say, it didn't come from her vocalization systems. Nor did it come from the constant recording of the Birdcage. She had pushed that and other distractions aside for this.
That monster was the one laughing, of course.
It was something more human, for lack of a better word right now, than any other reaction the Endbringers had exhibited to date. The Simurgh had attracted attention at first with many people expecting it to be another Scion, but the only human thing it had, that it had, was its appearance, its form. It hadn't said or done anything. Until one day it unleashed chaos.
However, this creature was laughing and with a modulation that denoted a certain personality. She didn't think it was her imagination the curiosity in its laugh while tearing the robot apart, as if saying, well, well, I've never seen anything like this.
Its human characteristics were the least of it, now and always, but Dragon found it impossible to ignore that detail.
Besides, what else should she think about?
The fact that she was losing the fight, that soon it would reach the prison and the nearest reinforcements were still too far away?
She didn't run from her problems. She made sure to solve them no matter the cost, sometimes forgetting everything else in the process. She was proud of being efficient and working to improve her efficiency where others would have become complacent, but there were problems that couldn't be solved. Problems where you could only stand, wondering what the hell had gone wrong.
"Dragon."
Ciara. It was the voice of Glaistig Uaine, the self-proclaimed Fairy Queen, perpetually with the appearance of a girl young enough to believe in those things, when in reality she was much older.
A poor lunatic who had only been captured because she had agreed to surrender, marching right to the Birdcage.
She wasn't speaking directly to her, of course, she couldn't.
She was speaking to her private room in the Cell Block she ruled, hoping she would hear her.
"Let me out of here. You know very well you can't stop it without help."
If she had a body, Dragon would have shuddered.
How was it possible that Glaistig Uaine knew? That she had noticed anything from the depths of the Birdcage?
She knew they had never really had control over her, that she only remained locked up because she wanted to, but this went beyond what had been thought.
Deep down she knew she was right, but Dragon chose to try to ignore her.
Besides, it wasn't as easy as the childish prisoner seemed to believe. Leaving a gap open for her to escape the cage would only provoke a mass escape attempt, to begin with.
Glaistig Uaine was surely the most powerful parahuman inside the prison. She could contain the rest of the prisoners, but was it worth the risk?
Betting everything that she would be able to contain them. Risking that her plan to gather power in the Birdcage was enough motivation to try, in the first place. After all, for better or worse, new prisoners always came in. Risking that she would then decide not to return to the prison after all. Glaistig Uaine might have plans, but the woman was crazy. So obviously she couldn't count on her acting rationally.
In short, there were too many holes to call it a plan. To even consider it for a second. She needed help, but the Fairy Queen was not help. She could actually be the final nail in her coffin.
Dragon refocused all her attention on the fight. It should never have been otherwise. Of course, while listening to her and having an internal debate, the fight had continued all along. With the same result. Not a single attack had made a dent in the monster. And it kept tearing her suits apart as if they were toys, laughing all the time.
Even the suit named Azazel was doing poorly, although at least it was still in the fight. Dragon felt pure hatred again. Her irresponsible father's restrictions had not only prevented her from doing harm, they limited her even in this. If she had a partner by her side, someone she could trust, someone who could break down those restrictions, she knew she could improve the Azazel. Transform it into a completely different suit, making her plans and ideas a reality.
But she was alone and it was too late in any case. This was what she had. She had to swim or die like this.
Swim or die.
Except she was completely sure. The ones who would die were other people, so it was very easy to say that.
"Dragon."
Ciara's voice reached her again. How persistent. As part of her restrictions, Dragon was obligated to obey the authorities. Temporarily releasing a prisoner to help her stop the destruction of the prison... Would it work?
Azazel suddenly started running. As if that monster had also detected something it shouldn't. That is, her making a decision. Damn. It would soon be upon her. She had no other choice left. She should feel better, free of the weight of the decision she had made, but it wasn't so.
Her suits pounced on it while firing. One of the suits drove a huge spear into the monster's shoulder. That was the first wound, sinking deeply into the monster's skin, but it didn't matter. It kept running, dragging the suit backward and receiving the shots and explosions from the rest as if nothing was happening.
Not even Behemoth had been this difficult to handle. Although with great sacrifices, of course, they had stopped him much earlier. He hadn't come this close to the Birdcage.
The crystals covering Azazel's body were replaced. They were quickly and violently replaced by others. The projectiles sank deeply into the mountain and exploded. Dragon's bad feeling turned out to be correct. It wouldn't know the exact location of the cage, but it wasn't far off.
Once it found the prison, it could crush it in its fist as if it were nothing, along with all the lives inside. Or release the prisoners. Whatever the monster planned, it wasn't good.
Glaistig Uaine rose above the mountains, surrounded by fallen parahumans she called shadows. She was dressed in prison clothes, naturally, but it didn't last long. Even wearing prison clothes was part of the farce she intended to honor for three hundred years, when the fairies would dance. Whatever that meant.
In any case, one of the shadows transformed her outfit into something completely different and fitting her self-proclaimed title. All green and flowing. Blonde hair and green eyes swimming in a sea of fabric of the same color. It would be adorable if it weren't so creepy.
"Don't make me regret this, Fairy Queen."
Glaistig Uaine didn't even look at her.
Three shadows floated around her, waiting, almost observing. None that she recognized at first glance. In any case, it was the least of it.
"We all have our roles, our duties. The destruction of this prop does not suit me."
Prop? What an ally she had found.
But Glaistig Uaine quickly proved that it had been worth dedicating several systems to getting her out of there and opening a discreet gap before anyone could find out where she was going while Dragon continued the battle.
She repelled Azazel with a combination of powers, sending it flying twenty or thirty meters backward. The impact shook the ground like a great earthquake. Of course, Dragon didn't waste time. Her suits bombarded the monster again, with the same result as so far. She could only hope that her efforts were making a dent in the creature, even if she couldn't see them at first glance. That's how it worked with the Endbringers. Although she had a bad feeling, the sense that this thing was actually something completely different, that couldn't be measured or compared so easily.
Another rough, malignant, guttural laugh. Then...
"That's true. We all have our duty. This is my duty."
The monster spoke as if it was natural.
2
"I want to be transported to that Birdcage," said Kazuya while glaring at Piggot.
If looks could kill, the woman would already be in a body bag.
Well, his look could kill, but he was still behaving, playing along. For now.
"We are saving those resources for priority reinforcements."
"I am strong. I stopped Lung."
"I know, don't remind me," Piggot grimaced. "Before you say something stupid, don't insult my intelligence by pretending you did what you did because you give a damn about the civilians."
"You are a hateful woman."
Kazuya, as usual, didn't think twice.
"I get told that all the time. It's part of my job to tell people what needs to be said, not what they want to hear."
Birdcage – Demonic Hunting Ground (1): FIN
1
To prevent prisoners from escaping, the Birdcage had many defenses and redundancies. Inside a hollow mountain, shrunk to the size of a ball, containment foam, three thousand anti-gravity drones, ready to spring into action at the first sign of an anomaly.
But the defenses against invasion consisted mainly of herself.
To end the problem or at least contain it until reinforcements arrived. She had only had to defend the Birdcage from the Endbringers once, when Behemoth attacked, and it had never come so close.
Even so, Dragon would succeed.
She had to.
It wasn't an enemy whose capabilities she was unaware of. At least not entirely, as all the information provided by Mishima Kazuya had been transmitted to her.
There was no way to know how complete his information was, but it was better than nothing.
Let's do it, she thought.
The monster with the codename Azazel reached the first significant obstacle. A network of nanomachines, invisible to the human eye, that could destroy a city. However, the monster passed through the network as if it were nothing, tearing it to pieces. It had no effect.
That this monster was a fourth Endbringer, despite coming from an alternate world, was nothing more than the most fatalistic theory hastily concocted from very limited facts.
However, whatever it was, it had just demonstrated that its durability was nothing to envy of the Endbringers.
Her mechanical suits approached the creature, floating a few feet above the ground. Most of those suits had been designed to deal with the Dragonslayers, while they continued to evade and humiliate her in some way. But that was mainly because she limited herself to using non-lethal armaments.
Now, however, she had no reason to hold back.
A rain of missiles.
The heavy rain descended on the giant.
Behemoth had approached in the same way. It didn't really mean anything, but it was still true. Slow and heavy. As if it believed it couldn't be stopped anyway.
What could she do if it started running?
In any case, the explosions covered the creature with a cloud of dust. But only for a moment. It walked through it a moment later, unscathed. The first salvo had no effect... At least, no visible effect.
Where is the difference?
If she had a tongue, she would have clicked it.
Azazel grabbed one of her suits in the air, not important or advanced enough in its development process for her to have given it a name. In any case, it broke it with the same ease that an angry child could break a toy, twisting its limbs, tearing off its head, and then smashing it against the ground several times. No child's toy would explode like it did afterward, of course.
The rest of the suits would share the same fate soon.
Dragon knew that, regardless of the designated target being Azazel, she had to treat this as a fight against an Endbringer. That is, the victory condition was only to do enough damage to make it prefer to retreat to lick its wounds. She shouldn't dream of a more decisive way to win.
A deep, cruel laugh. Needless to say, it didn't come from her vocalization systems. Nor did it come from the constant recording of the Birdcage. She had pushed that and other distractions aside for this.
That monster was the one laughing, of course.
It was something more human, for lack of a better word right now, than any other reaction the Endbringers had exhibited to date. The Simurgh had attracted attention at first with many people expecting it to be another Scion, but the only human thing it had, that it had, was its appearance, its form. It hadn't said or done anything. Until one day it unleashed chaos.
However, this creature was laughing and with a modulation that denoted a certain personality. She didn't think it was her imagination the curiosity in its laugh while tearing the robot apart, as if saying, well, well, I've never seen anything like this.
Its human characteristics were the least of it, now and always, but Dragon found it impossible to ignore that detail.
Besides, what else should she think about?
The fact that she was losing the fight, that soon it would reach the prison and the nearest reinforcements were still too far away?
She didn't run from her problems. She made sure to solve them no matter the cost, sometimes forgetting everything else in the process. She was proud of being efficient and working to improve her efficiency where others would have become complacent, but there were problems that couldn't be solved. Problems where you could only stand, wondering what the hell had gone wrong.
"Dragon."
Ciara. It was the voice of Glaistig Uaine, the self-proclaimed Fairy Queen, perpetually with the appearance of a girl young enough to believe in those things, when in reality she was much older.
A poor lunatic who had only been captured because she had agreed to surrender, marching right to the Birdcage.
She wasn't speaking directly to her, of course, she couldn't.
She was speaking to her private room in the Cell Block she ruled, hoping she would hear her.
"Let me out of here. You know very well you can't stop it without help."
If she had a body, Dragon would have shuddered.
How was it possible that Glaistig Uaine knew? That she had noticed anything from the depths of the Birdcage?
She knew they had never really had control over her, that she only remained locked up because she wanted to, but this went beyond what had been thought.
Deep down she knew she was right, but Dragon chose to try to ignore her.
Besides, it wasn't as easy as the childish prisoner seemed to believe. Leaving a gap open for her to escape the cage would only provoke a mass escape attempt, to begin with.
Glaistig Uaine was surely the most powerful parahuman inside the prison. She could contain the rest of the prisoners, but was it worth the risk?
Betting everything that she would be able to contain them. Risking that her plan to gather power in the Birdcage was enough motivation to try, in the first place. After all, for better or worse, new prisoners always came in. Risking that she would then decide not to return to the prison after all. Glaistig Uaine might have plans, but the woman was crazy. So obviously she couldn't count on her acting rationally.
In short, there were too many holes to call it a plan. To even consider it for a second. She needed help, but the Fairy Queen was not help. She could actually be the final nail in her coffin.
Dragon refocused all her attention on the fight. It should never have been otherwise. Of course, while listening to her and having an internal debate, the fight had continued all along. With the same result. Not a single attack had made a dent in the monster. And it kept tearing her suits apart as if they were toys, laughing all the time.
Even the suit named Azazel was doing poorly, although at least it was still in the fight. Dragon felt pure hatred again. Her irresponsible father's restrictions had not only prevented her from doing harm, they limited her even in this. If she had a partner by her side, someone she could trust, someone who could break down those restrictions, she knew she could improve the Azazel. Transform it into a completely different suit, making her plans and ideas a reality.
But she was alone and it was too late in any case. This was what she had. She had to swim or die like this.
Swim or die.
Except she was completely sure. The ones who would die were other people, so it was very easy to say that.
"Dragon."
Ciara's voice reached her again. How persistent. As part of her restrictions, Dragon was obligated to obey the authorities. Temporarily releasing a prisoner to help her stop the destruction of the prison... Would it work?
Azazel suddenly started running. As if that monster had also detected something it shouldn't. That is, her making a decision. Damn. It would soon be upon her. She had no other choice left. She should feel better, free of the weight of the decision she had made, but it wasn't so.
Her suits pounced on it while firing. One of the suits drove a huge spear into the monster's shoulder. That was the first wound, sinking deeply into the monster's skin, but it didn't matter. It kept running, dragging the suit backward and receiving the shots and explosions from the rest as if nothing was happening.
Not even Behemoth had been this difficult to handle. Although with great sacrifices, of course, they had stopped him much earlier. He hadn't come this close to the Birdcage.
The crystals covering Azazel's body were replaced. They were quickly and violently replaced by others. The projectiles sank deeply into the mountain and exploded. Dragon's bad feeling turned out to be correct. It wouldn't know the exact location of the cage, but it wasn't far off.
Once it found the prison, it could crush it in its fist as if it were nothing, along with all the lives inside. Or release the prisoners. Whatever the monster planned, it wasn't good.
Glaistig Uaine rose above the mountains, surrounded by fallen parahumans she called shadows. She was dressed in prison clothes, naturally, but it didn't last long. Even wearing prison clothes was part of the farce she intended to honor for three hundred years, when the fairies would dance. Whatever that meant.
In any case, one of the shadows transformed her outfit into something completely different and fitting her self-proclaimed title. All green and flowing. Blonde hair and green eyes swimming in a sea of fabric of the same color. It would be adorable if it weren't so creepy.
"Don't make me regret this, Fairy Queen."
Glaistig Uaine didn't even look at her.
Three shadows floated around her, waiting, almost observing. None that she recognized at first glance. In any case, it was the least of it.
"We all have our roles, our duties. The destruction of this prop does not suit me."
Prop? What an ally she had found.
But Glaistig Uaine quickly proved that it had been worth dedicating several systems to getting her out of there and opening a discreet gap before anyone could find out where she was going while Dragon continued the battle.
She repelled Azazel with a combination of powers, sending it flying twenty or thirty meters backward. The impact shook the ground like a great earthquake. Of course, Dragon didn't waste time. Her suits bombarded the monster again, with the same result as so far. She could only hope that her efforts were making a dent in the creature, even if she couldn't see them at first glance. That's how it worked with the Endbringers. Although she had a bad feeling, the sense that this thing was actually something completely different, that couldn't be measured or compared so easily.
Another rough, malignant, guttural laugh. Then...
"That's true. We all have our duty. This is my duty."
The monster spoke as if it was natural.
2
"I want to be transported to that Birdcage," said Kazuya while glaring at Piggot.
If looks could kill, the woman would already be in a body bag.
Well, his look could kill, but he was still behaving, playing along. For now.
"We are saving those resources for priority reinforcements."
"I am strong. I stopped Lung."
"I know, don't remind me," Piggot grimaced. "Before you say something stupid, don't insult my intelligence by pretending you did what you did because you give a damn about the civilians."
"You are a hateful woman."
Kazuya, as usual, didn't think twice.
"I get told that all the time. It's part of my job to tell people what needs to be said, not what they want to hear."
Birdcage – Demonic Hunting Ground (1): FIN