Hey guys i hope this story occupies you as i rebuilt my thoghts on my resident evil naruto crossover. as always read and review!
I do not take all the credit for this!!! truthfully i took a few things from another person's document (like words i couldn't get through the game before i had to take it back and everything and also a few things that happen that didn't quite show in the game. also there are a few moves never included i see so sorry bout that)
I did do this document though, so i thank the person i took the few little things from.
Anyone who's played this game can tell everything from another thing and also guess what? i'm including the last two games as well for a longer stories sake. HOPE YOU LIKE! ONWARDS!
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A dark-haired young man stands on the terrace of an imposing palace set amid the lush vegetation of a monsoon rainforest. In the twilight damp, birds flock and wheel overhead. The young man is dressed in dark blue tunic and headdress, and carries a sword on his back. He seems to be waiting.
Through gauze curtains behind him is a brightly lit room; he turns and goes in. Storm clouds gather. A lightning flash, a rumble of thunder and a heavy raindrop falls. In a candlelit bedchamber a young woman sleeps, a translucent net her only cover in the humid night. "Most people think time is like a river that flows swift and sure in one direction,"
The young man declares, "but I have seen the face of time, and I can tell you - they are wrong." The raindrop splashes to the ground and at that moment the girl wakes with a start, her dark eyes wide. In the dense forest the young man, sword in hand, runs purposefully through the rain. "Time is an ocean in a storm!"
His feet splash through mud, he is heedless of the downpour, brushing aside branches, intent on his goal. "You may wonder who I am and why I say this," he continued. "Sit down, and I will tell you a tale like none that you have ever heard." On a hillside horses stamp impatiently, their riders watching, waiting.
Soldiers are gathered before a mighty palace. "Know first that I am the son of Shahraman, a mighty king of Persia," the young man looked to his father mounted beside him. "On our way to Azad with a small company of men, we passed through India, where the promise of honor and glory tempted my father into a grievous error."
Inside the gates of the palace a soldier raises its drawbridge. He turns as a gaunt figure looms behind him, dagger drawn. This man swiftly stabs the shocked sentry; with a grin of satisfaction, watches him fall. The drawbridge mechanism spins free. From within the palace a flaming arrow arcs across the sky. "Now, my son!" The battle begins - soldiers charge, swords drawn, sweeping aside the first defenders as riders rush headlong for the open gates.
King Shahraman and the Prince head the charge as they ride to a mighty clash of arms. Shahraman is about to strike at a figure but the man raises his hands. "Your majesty, I trust you will remember your promise?" It is the Vizier who opened the palace gates, his tone obsequious as he gestures. "The Maharajah's treasure vaults lie within." At that the Prince spurs his horse. "See how he rides!" King Shahraman laughs with pleasure, "Like a warrior's son!"
The Prince clatters across the stone floor at a gallop, the palace walls collapsing around him. His horse is brought down; he is thrown through a crumbling archway, lands hard with a gasp and is knocked cold. He came to lying amongst rubble on the hard stone floor of a keep. The battle still raged beyond the walls. All around was the clash of steel, the shiver of arrows, shouting and screams of desperate men, the whinny of horses and crash of flaming missiles, pounding the Maharajah's palace.
"Do you think I felt regret as I gazed upon the destruction we had wrought," wondered the Prince, "or at least humility at the speed at which a world can be transformed from a good world into a hell? If you think so you are mistaken. From that moment I thought of one thing only - the honor and glory I would bring my father by fighting like a warrior in my first battle!" A party of his father's soldiers shared the courtyard with him, using a ram to batter a sturdy gate under orders of a captain, sweeping his scimitar as he urged every stroke.
The Prince ran toward them, and as he approached a great ball of fire streaked over the palace walls and blasted the group with their ram. Smoke cleared and the Prince looked in horror at the twisted, burning bodies. He realized there was nothing to be done, and also that there was no way through that gate. He headed up over the rubble to the ramparts. As he ran across the top another flaming ball blasted out the walkway in front, forcing him to jump across the gap.
Past more grisly corpses he leaped across broken boards and ran inside a section of covered rampart. A hasty barricade of furniture blocked his way. He cleared this easily with his sword, and here now was his first taste of combat. A turbaned sentry stood ready, swinging his spear in a threatening stance.
With sword in hand, the Prince charged in and began to slash. He was able to block or roll when his opponent tried to thrust with the spear, and it took only a few blows before the sentry was overwhelmed. The Prince sheathed his sword in satisfaction and climbed a nearby ladder to higher battlements.
He drew his sword again and ran towards two sentries there. Moving and slashing, he divided his attack between them. Each fell soon enough beneath the swiftness of his sword. The Prince took a moment then to savor his victory. He looked down in awe upon the clash of battle all around. On the ramparts and in the courtyard below he could see flames, and men engaged in a desperate hand-to-hand struggle.
Fiery balls streaked through the air and showers of flaming arrows fizzed overhead. At his feet, a smoldering ball had become lodged in the solid stone of the ramparts. With grim determination, he headed inside where he splashed through a footbath. He took this opportunity to drink a little water, which seemed miraculously to recover his strength.
"Many men that day sought to win honor and glory on the battlefield, that their king might say to them, as Khosrau said to Rustam: 'You are the noblest of my warriors'. From the moment my sword tasted blood I knew this would not be my way. I would win my father's praise not by killing but by being the first to find the Maharajah's Treasure Vault and the wonders within." To that end, he smashed a wooden bench from his way and returned outside.
Arrows of fire rained down over the palace walls. Fireballs shook the sky. The battle raged on. Sentries paced ramparts below, awaiting any intruder. With the recklessness of youth and intent on glory, the Prince made his way down through the rubble of the shattered ramparts and rushed to join battle.
He moved swiftly from one to the next, knocking each back and pinning them down until one by one they too fell beneath his sword. He sheathed his now blooded blade and turned inside once again. As missiles pounded all around, he felt himself safer there. Through a twisting corridor he emerged, as another fireball whistled down and smashed away the wooden rampart in front. He continued his run but raised himself on the wall across the gap, and in this manner passed easily over it.
Dropping down lightly on the other side, he gathered enough energy in a few steps to repeat the extraordinary feat over the next gap. He climbed a ladder to higher ramparts. Beneath shaded canopies on ivy-covered walls, racks of spears waited their purpose. However, the Maharajah's troops were nowhere to be seen. The Prince moved inside once more. Refreshing himself at another shallow pool he emerged to find the absent soldiers.
A short distance ahead, a fireball whistled down and blasted a hole clean through the thick stone walls of the palace. A way inside perhaps - but he had first to clear a path to it. Despite their ferocious demeanor, the palace sentries proved not to have such skill as he. The Prince whirled expertly among them and finished all without taking any wound, yet knew there was always the pool of water just behind were he not so expert yet.
With the way clear he scaled the palace walls. Reaching up, he was able to grab hold of a ledge and pull up onto it to move sideways towards a corner. Wherever necessary he dropped beneath obstructions to grab the ledge and shimmy along to clamber up once again.
As he edged confidently along the ledge, another fireball whistled down and pounded the wall below, shaking his hold but failing to dislodge him. Undaunted, the Prince edged around the corner and made his way along a frieze of decoration, studded with the faces of exotic deities, in their sculpted serenity unseeing of the destruction all around.
Presently he came to the hole in the wall, where he dropped swiftly to grab on and haul up. He was inside the Maharajah's Palace at last. Here was the smoldering ball that had smashed its way through, and the Prince jumped down to the rubble beside it. Armed guards paced the room, and with his sudden entrance stood ready to challenge him.
He dealt properly with them; his sword the only visa for passage beyond. This small room had heavy wooden doors and a barred gate, but plainly no way through either. The Prince looked up to a balcony high along one side. There appeared to be an exit off it. He refreshed himself at a basin underneath, and noticed one pillar more slender than the rest.
He tested his athletic abilities in scaling it, thus gaining the height he needed to leap from tne pillar to the next across the room, and off the last to the balcony close beside. He found a dank stone passage, condensation dripping to its mould-covered floor. Thin shafts of light broke through from above, and dusty cobwebs blew among the rusted chains hanging from green-tinged walls; large areas of these were inscribed in a language he could not understand.
The Prince made his way through a pair of tattered drapes. His eye was drawn immediately to a weapon glowing brightly in an alcove opposite the balcony on which he stood. "And there it lay, just out of reach," he observed: "the Dagger of Time. There was a treasure I could carry with pride, as a trophy of our victory! If I could only get there..." He overlooked a room of carved pillars and ornate arches.
Statues of deities in alcoves to the sides; water flowed into pools at each corner. A carpet had been laid over the flagstones, leading to a raised platform under a stone canopy at one end. Glowing irresistibly within, a strange device. The Prince jumped down and stepped up to examine it.
It was a sculpted glass tube in a decorative metal frame, taller even than he. A low hum emanated from it, becoming louder as he approached. "The Hourglass drew me; fascinated me. But to move it would take a dozen of my father's soldiers," he conceded. "I wanted a prize I could fit into one hand." Massive embossed wooden doors sealed the exit, leaving the Prince no alternative to using a column to ascend back to the balcony where he had entered.
He saw now that he could nimbly run along the wall to another platform, and from their jump on top of the roof of the Hourglass canopy. Here, inside a recess too small for him to reach through, could be seen the Dagger of Time, tantalizingly close. He would have to work his way around the other side.
By a series of platforms, the agile Prince ran and jumped his way to another dank passage. Here, with a purposeful 'Thunk!' mechanical traps sprang into operation: spiked poles, spinning with lacerating intent, sliding back and forth along grooves in the floor over which he must pass. Taking up his courage, the Prince judged the moment to dive through and threaded his way past, dodging each blade to run to safety further along.
Dropping down here for a drink to restore such strength as he had lost, the Prince noticed upon the walls strange colorful murals and dense writing in the same impenetrable script he'd seen earlier. Doubtless these words told the story of the wall paintings, which were otherwise difficult for him to interpret.
The first appeared to show a Blue god of some kind and his pregnant wife (the child appeared to be Red), she a winged goddess. In the next picture a Red god came and slew the Blue god, snatching the child from its mother and devouring it. The Blue god returned and wrought vengeance, tearing from the belly of the Red god the Sands of Time into an Hourglass. This seemed somehow to be held as the symbol of the four-armed Blue goddess thus worshipped by the people.
In one hand she held the head of the Blue god, in another a sword - or was it the Dagger of Time? Perhaps he would resolve the story in due course thought the Prince as he made his way around narrow ledges above the mysterious wall paintings. Though he unwittingly activated more spinning spiked poles here - grinding sparks in their relentless course back and forth across his path - he had scant difficulty working his way once more to the open air.
He was atop a ledge, high above the ground in what appeared to be a partly ruined temple. He worked his way methodically along crumbling ledges to a place where he could jump back to grab a thin column, still high above the ground. Through a series of leaps he was able to grab each tall column in a row to move to the centre of the room, where he ended on one that had its base sufficiently near to the ground to allow him to dismount safely.
So this was the Maharajah's Treasure Vault. Two huge flaming bowls lit the area, a basin of water near each at the top of a wide flight of stone steps. Broken steps lead away at the front. On decorative rugs lay scattered ornaments and wooden chests; alas, all empty. Towering above him was an immense likeness of a figure, carved from the very rock.
Its visage serene, one hand in offering, palm raised. Glowing irresistibly in a shaft of light atop the head the Prince knew his prize waited. Scrambling up to the lower hand of the statue, he ran up and jumped backwards to the second. From here he made his way up and across the shoulder, and had then to execute an arduous athletic maneuver where by a rhythmic series of jumps he ascended a narrow chimney formed by the head of the deity and the wall of the niche in which it was set.
He arrived at last on top of the statue, and claimed his reward. The Dagger rested on a metallic mount in a shaft of light from high above. As the Prince picked up the trophy, dust and rubble began to fall. He inspected the Dagger closely. It glowed. "Sand..?" He tapped lightly on a raised button in the Dagger's handle.
At that moment, masonry crumbled from the ceiling above. With a gasp of shock, the Prince looked up to see certain death crashing down upon him! His perspective became distorted, his vision blurred. Time itself seemed to stand still as the boulders slowed, were suspended above him, then reversed their course in a flash of white light.
Again his finger was on the button and now, stepping back, time was allowed to flow once more and the masonry crashed down as before, yet this time safely beyond his footing. Though he could not fully comprehend it, the Prince had seen the Dagger's power. "Hah!" he exclaimed, as he sheathed it in triumph.
Loose masonry and dust cascaded about him. "I had what I came for," he declared. "It was time to get out - now!" As the building shook and crumbled, the Prince took flight through an open doorway. Though stone tiles crumbled before him revealing savage spike pits below, a few agile wall runs and a jump over a gap brought him safely to solid ground.
Here were more spinning spiky poles, nimbly dodged - the last phalanx of five by means of an alcove just off their deadly course. He dropped down to return to the first passage of sliding spiked poles, as easily dodged as before. The palace rumbled and shook, dust crumbling from the ceiling as he tumbled through an open doorway.
The Prince leaped from a balcony to the floor, rolling in one move to the feet of his father. Shahraman turned to his son. "Oh!" as he showed his delight. The Prince was back in the room where he had seen the Hourglass. A dozen of his father's men were indeed moving it.
The Prince presented the Dagger of Time. "Father, I have brought us honor and glory." The Vizier stepped forward, coughing as he spoke. "Your Majesty," he rasped, "You promised me my choice of the Maharajah's treasures..." His eyes fell on the Prince's trophy. "That dagger!" "Surely you won't deny the lad a souvenir of his first battle?" replied the king. "You may have your choice of all the Maharajah's other treasures." The Vizier turned eagerly to the Hourglass.
"...Except that Hourglass," continued Shahraman. The thwarted Vizier turned away in veiled anger, stamping his curiously decorated Staff and now coughing blood. "...That will make a fine gift for the Sultan of Azad when we pass through his city," decided the king.
He warmed to his theme, the Vizier continuing to cough furiously. "...And some exotic animals for his menagerie. And a dozen slave girls. Yes," now thinking aloud, "that should be enough." King Shahraman turned to his soldiers. "I want no animals or maidens harmed until I have chosen." From behind a pillar a dark-haired girl in a bright red sari looked down, fingering a pendant about her neck and listening to her enemies' words.
"Let it be known," Shahraman announced expansively, raising his arms in a magnanimous gesture, "King Shahraman is merciful in victory!" Suddenly the girl turned, and struggled in vain as a burly soldier grabbed her. With the spoils of their victory in tow, the Persian army crossed burning desert sands whipped by stinging wind.
The foot soldiers led on, trailed by cartloads of animals, of plunder and of maidens captured as slaves, including the dark beauty in the red sari, shackled under the blazing sun. She gazed impassively at the Prince as he rode to join his father, the Vizier close by. "Trust not a man who has betrayed his master, nor take him into your own service, lest he betrays you too," was the Prince's warning thoughts.
"I learned the truth of this, to my sorrow, the day that we arrived in Azad as the Sultan's honored guests." "My friend!" announced Shahraman. They were in the magnificent Reception Halls of the Sultan's Palace. Maidens prepared restoratives, as soldiers of both armies attended the ceremony. "My friend," returned the Sultan.
"Your visit brings joy and honor to my poor and humble dwelling. If only you had given me time to prepare a proper welcome." They hugged expressively as well as they were able allowing for the contrasting physique of the portly Sultan and the warrior Shahraman. "The glories of Azad are famed throughout the world," declared the king. They walked forward together. "...And the best is yet to come," he continued.
The Sultan looked hopefully at the maidens, then apprehensively at the caged animals. "I give you -- " Shahraman turned dramatically to the Hourglass as it was unveiled. "The Sands of Time!" A silken cover slid to floor and the Hourglass was revealed.
The dark girl looked on with disquiet. "May the friendship between our kingdoms endure as long as Time itself," declared Shahraman. The Sultan put a hand to the glass and stared wide-eyed at the Sands within. "The sand -- " he marveled, "why does it glow?" "I can tell you." The Vizier stepped forward. "Inside the hourglass is a marvel that no living man has seen," the sycophant's words flowed like treacle.
"Alas, only the Dagger can unlock the Sands of Time, and it belongs to a greater one than I -- a young prince, dearer to his father than all the wealth of India." The Vizier turned solicitously to the Prince. "Perhaps he will oblige?" The girl watched in horror as the young Prince looked around at the faces waiting expectantly.
He approached the Hourglass. "No," she cried. The Prince unsheathed the Dagger. The girl broke free from her guards. "No! Stop!" she insisted. Too late. The Prince slid the Dagger into a slot in the glass, evidently made for the purpose. Perspective became distorted as the Hourglass pulsed. Guards blocked the girl. "NOOO!" her cry rang through the Hall.
Black clouds formed in the skies above the Palace of Azad. A shaft of light struck down, a thunderous shockwave hit, and the Sands were unleashed from the Hourglass, tumbling from its now open base. The walls of the palace trembled and shook. The assembled company stepped away from the fearful device. "Is it meant to do this?" asked the Sultan.
At that moment the Vizier stepped forward. He raised his Staff and loudly intoned an incantation in an unknown tongue. The Sands whirled about the room, scattering all to terror and confusion. King Shahraman tried to fight off the Sand as it swirled about him. "Father!" gasped the Prince.
Soldiers were gripped in the lash of the storm and horribly transformed into demon ogres as the Sands raged through their bodies, stripping their very sinews. Screams rent the air, guards and captives alike attempting to flee. Amid the noise and confusion, the walls of the palace began to collapse.
The Vizier turned to the Prince, alone amid the chaos with his Dagger in hand, and advanced upon him ominously, bony fingers outstretched. "Give me the Dagger!" he hissed. The Prince shook his head, "No." He backed away, masonry crumbling around. The thick choking Sand seemed not to affect him as it did the others.
The Dagger was the key. "You have unleashed the Sands of Time!" the Vizier warned, "I can undo what you have done." He snarled a command, "Give it to me!" "No!" Through collapsed rubble the Prince turned and ran. He dived through a doorway as its columns tumbled to the ground, holding back the Vizier and all the demons within.
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Guess who XD lol yep it's ending time lol. and not much a cliffy as you might think. anyways heres the credits.
Ok guys have fun waiting for the next chapy of the re4 story and this one.
Next chappy, the chasing of a girl