Shadowlaw Base, Tournament Arena

Pattaya, Thailand

It had barely been a few days since Cammy and Ryu had touched down in Thailand and she still found it hard to ignore the humid heat so thick, she could just about brush it with her fingertips. But she tried nonetheless, to push it to the edges of her consciousness, along with the jeering crowd that surrounded the fighting arena, here in some Buddhist temple in a remote area of Thailand. Remote was the word most people would have used to describe her immediate surroundings, if not for the fact that the final rounds of the Street Fighter tournaments were taking place here, today, right now. This was the fight she had been training for – the one opportunity where she would get the chance to face the very man responsible for all the torment in her life, and countless others. M. Bison.

Cammy was aware of the kind of weight bearing down on her shoulders. So many people would have killed for the opportunity that graced her now; Chun Li, for the death of her father, Guile, for the death of his best friend, T. Hawk, for the pride of his people lost to Shadowlaw, Juli, for the loss eleven years of her life never to be returned, Julian, for his family and the son he never knew he had … and those were merely the lives ruined by Shadowlaw of which Cammy was aware, not counting her own, not counting Kenny's. Come to think of it, and she remembered only now, that she was fighting for him too, much too young for him to fight on his own.

DONG …

Someone struck the grand bell hanging a few paces off to her left. The crowd immediately fell silent, signaling that the fight was about to start. And yet, her opponent was nowhere to be seen.

DONG …

The bell rang again, and it was only now that Cammy turned to look. A large log, hoisted on the shoulders of four strong looking young monks garbed in orange robes. The end of the log that struck the brass bell had been worn smooth with a ring of splinters along its circumference after years of use.

Then something happened. Just a few feet in front of where Cammy stood, a column of black smoke sprung from the ground, seemingly out of nowhere. The dark spirals coiled and circled each other, moving upward all the while, growing thicker, wider and denser with every inch in height it gained. Once it had reached just over what Cammy estimated to be six feet, the smoke gradually dispersed and in its place stood M. Bison himself, purple glowing eyes looking out at her from the darkness provided by the brim of his red had. His broad body intimidated her, despite being hidden underneath a thick black cape.

XXXXX

Beyond the tournament grounds

Pattaya, Thailand

Upon contact, the energy ball that erupted from Genta's outstretched palm caused an explosion so powerful, it took everyone off their feet. Ken Masters was lifted high into the air, crashing right into Julian, planting both heavily built men to the ground. Wagner was no exception, as he had been knocked near unconsciousness, blinking heavily in the attempt to remain aware and alert.

Kenny had his arms over his head, eyes squeezed tightly shut, wondering if this darkness he saw was what being dead was like. It had only lasted a split second, but his thoughts were racing so fast, it could've been an eternity and he wouldn't have noticed the difference. This timelessness was so surreal, so peaceful that he could have remained in this state forever and it would have sat just fine with him –

THUD.

Something crashed to the ground landing right in front of him. Kenny realized he was alive when he opened his eyes only to see a world of brightness, and suddenly his senses began to return. The charred stench of cooking metal burned his nose. His limbs gradually regained their mass. The dryness returned to his mouth.

What happened to him?

Apparently, nothing, when he saw Cranky's face looking up at him from the ground, eyelids slowly closing on his emerald irises.

"Run," Cranky mouthed.

And then it made sense to Kenny. He thought Cranky had been knocked out cold from the initial blow that Genta delivered, but he held on to consciousness just long enough to absorb the second shot meant for Kenny.

"No!" Kenny cried. He hoisted Cranky into a sitting position, and struggled to hold his limp body sitting upright.

"What the fuck did you do that for?" Kenny wailed, his voice cracking with sorrow, shaking Cranky's limp body violently. "I could've taken it Crank, I could've! Why did you go off and fucking kill yourself when I could've taken the hit?" But Cranky wasn't listening. Kenny couldn't detect any breathing and his body was dead weight. And then the sorrow hit him, gripping his vital organs so hard, it hurt to breathe. And yet, a suppressed sob managed to find it way painfully out of Kenny's mouth. "I could have …" Kenny cried once more into Cranky's unhearing ears.

"Wasting his life for washed up trash like you," Genta snorted at Kenny.

"Who the hell …" Kenny's thoughts were filled with unprintable words expressing incomprehensible resentment for this face he did not recognize, but had taken someone important to him for no apparent reason.

"I knew you looked familiar," Genta continued. "At first I thought it was the resemblance to Admiral Issei. But it's more than that, now that I recall."

"I'm more than any Shadowlaw scum," Kenny shot back angrily, his hateful glare burning holes into Genta's despicable visage.

"Big words coming from Shadowlaw scum," Genta retorted. "Once an icon for our great organization, a milestone for our technological and scientific achievements. And look at you now – without the technology that made you so powerful. Instead, it's being used to power the next generation of Shadowlaw warriors – and I intend to lead the way. And you … completely useless now that you've left the organization."

"That's enough!" Juli cried, cutting off any chance Kenny had at verbal redemption. She turned to Genta and hissed at him. "Shadowlaw took more than just my life away from me. They took my identity as an individual. What makes you think you're so different? Just because you can still think for yourself? What do you think will save you once Bison decides to mass manufacture Agent Initiative soldiers?"

"The fact that I have talents," Genta replied coolly, directing Juli's attention to Cranky, who was a good head taller than Genta and much more built, lying unconscious on the ground, "while you simply had the right body type." The cocky grin appeared on his face again. "I hear Master Bison likes his women especially young."

That was all Kenny could stand now as his anger flared suddenly, casting a red tinge to everything around him. His left eye made a sudden twitch as he fixed his gaze on the hateful sight of Genta. The Shadowlaw youth could've been Kenny's twin under different circumstances. They were the same age, similar hairstyles, only Genta's was a little shorter nearing a buzz cut, shared similar childhoods on the same streets, and physically, both boys were lean and thin.

But fate didn't have friendship planned for them. Shadowlaw ripped Genta off the streets and trained him as one of their own. And as for Kenny, they hunted him like an animal for his father's betrayal of the company. Now this was what they had made of Genta; a self absorbed child with the skills of a trained professional killer. Kenny knew it wasn't smart doing what he did next. But he was so overcome with emotion that the thought of his well being didn't once cross his mind.

Kenny thought he heard cries of protests coming from Aaron, Julian, Wagner, Uncle Ken, and Juli, all of them ordering him to stop his charade. But their voices were distant, barely noticeable. All he could see was Genta's smirking face in the middle of a spiral of red tinted trees and grass, smiling condescendingly at him with his arms folded across his chest. Kenny had never really experienced tunnel vision before though he had heard of the term and if he had, then what he was going through now was definitely it; nothing but his target. Oh, how he would love to scrape that expression off of Genta's face with the dirt on the ground …

"AAAARGGGH!!" Kenny bellowed, throwing his foot at Genta's head, but met with his forearm instead. A quick block. Barely a split second later, he followed up with a swing of his left fist, then his right, and a knee. Genta blocked the left hook, dodged the second, and jumped onto Kenny's raised knee, using it as leverage to perform a back flip to put some distance between him and the irate ex-Shadow Soldier, smashing Kenny's chin with his toes in the process.

Kenny reeled back. A sharp pain radiated from his jaw and into his face. He tasted blood. But it made him all the more angrier. He launched his body at Genta again, without a care in the world what happened to his own body. He just wanted Genta dead. That was the only thought that drove him.

XXXXX

Shadowlaw Base, Tournament Arena

Pattaya, Thailand

Cammy's body met the hard tile floor once again but by now, she had learned to deal with the impact and the physical agony it cost her. She had forgotten what it was like to live without pain for the most part of her life. This final battle with M. Bison was just a small step up, the pain manifesting itself into physical form. If she could make it through the mental anguish the Shadowlaw dictator put her through her whole life, dealing with the injuries sustained in this fight was a cakewalk. The revenge she had a chance at was worth it.

Before she could pick herself off the ground, she noticed her body completely engulfed in Bison's monolithic shadow. He had discarded his cape when the battle commenced and now she could see his scarlet uniform, trimmed with a sharply contrasting black and silver plated armor at his joints. His brought his foot down hard on her shoulder, forcing her to scream out, pinning her to the ground.

"How did you ever make it this far, Cammy?" Bison asked curiously. He spoke to her calmly but sternly, as if she were a naughty child. "You are not unlike the other warriors of the tournament – endowed by the gods with unrivaled skill, but never having the discipline to use it to their advantage, letting their egos and emotions lure them to the tournament. I helped make you what you are today, and I expected much more from you."

"It's surprising to hear," Cammy replied through bloody teeth. "I thought I was just another nameless victim to you."

"Oh no," Bision said slyly, a nauseous grin spreading slowly over his cleft chin. "You weren't nameless."

"Fuck you!" Ignoring the agony exploding from her shoulder, she used her free arm to give Bison's knee an open-palm strike, forcing the dictator to take his foot off of her. Cammy rolled to her feet but her stance was no longer strong and proud as it had been before the round commenced.

Bison came at her, twisting his body sideways in the air and performed a deadly scissor kick. The move was too quick for Cammy's weakened reflexes to register and she absorbed the full impact. She was sent sailing in a wide arch through their air, having her path shattered by the bell with a resounding dong before falling to the ground once again.

This time she couldn't pick herself up. The pain had amplified, but so had the frustration. Bison was too much for her. She had bitten off more than she could chew with her raging emotions. Cammy never once sat down and thought logically about what she wanted to do. She didn't see the means. She only saw the end. And the end involved Bison lying bruised and bloodied at her feet. She never cared about how she would get it done, just as long as it was done. That was her mistake and Cammy had only just realizedit. It was the most basic fundamental philosophy in military unit she had trained with since leaving Shadowlaw and she had always been convinced she was a good soldier because of it. But maybe she didn't take the philosophy preached at her seriously enough. Maybe the only reason she allowed herself to be disciplined in the first place was because it would guarantee a route to Bison. But in the end, what did it all mean to her? How was she applying it now that the opportunity she trained for was presenting itself in front of her? Could she remember everything, or did she only pretend to understand her training?

There was no time to dwell on the question, only time to act.

But a split second of doubt was all it took for Bison to finish Cammy off.

XXXXX

Shadowlaw Base, Arena Stands

Pattaya, Thailand

Ryu watched Cammy fight valiantly with everything she had in her small frame. The woman's abilities were something he'd learned to respect over the years. In fact he'd learn long ago never to judge a fighter's capabilities by their size alone. Passing through the mountains of China, Ryu had seen the lean, wiry bodies of monks of different kung fu disciplines fight with fearful speed and precision. He recognized forms and techniques here and there, for Japanese karate was derived from the basic forms of Chinese kung fu. Presently, it was centuries of isolated evolution that kept the two fighting arts developing in different directions.

The techniques that Cammy were using, however, were very twentieth century, based on the traditional fighting forms of some European martial art, but had been updated taking defense in modern times into consideration, as assailants now had the option of attacking with guns and knives. Watching the way Cammy twisted her body expertly through the air in all sorts of elegant flips and tumbles, Ryu could almost see the wide arc of her kicks knocking a firearm from her opponent's hands, leaping arcs over bullet fire, ducking beneath knife slashes.

But her opponent, the dictator M. Bison fought barehanded. There were no visible weapons in his arsenal, but Bison was far from unarmed. Ryu could sense the Psycho Drive powering the dictator's movements, allowing him to move at incredible speeds so inhuman, that even Cammy and her natural agility were having a hard time keeping up with. It had only been a few minutes before the fight was over. Ryu could see it coming but he didn't expect it to end so soon. Cammy had been thrown into the large bell with a force that made him cringe with sympathy. When she landed, it had only been a split second she hesitated before counterattacking Bison's follow up attack. And just like that, it was over and Cammy had been carted off the fighting grounds in a gurney. Bison didn't stick around to gloat – he was far too accomplished, too powerful, too evil of a man to bathe in the glory of his victory in front of cheering crowds he would sooner destroy with a blast of Psycho Energy.

"You're up next, Ryu."

Ryu turned around to his speaker, the announcer of the tournament standing in front of him in person for the first time, his eyes secretively covered by the large shaded lenses of his sunglasses. His thin lips were pressed into a straight line, and the single drop of sweat running down the side of his face told Ryu that he feared for the Shotokan fighter's safety.

Ryu replied with a single, silent nod and rose from his seat from behind the thick glass that allowed him to view the fight beyond without interference. Before he could make his exit, the announcer clasped his hand on Ryu's shoulder.

"You're the only one left," he said, his voice deep with worry. "If Bison isn't brought down …"

Ryu gave him an all knowing glare and the announcer said no more. It was time to fight.