Disclaimer: I do not own Tekken or any of the characters within. But Shiki is of my design.

Dark One reborn

I let him live. Was that the right thing to do? King walked out of the hospital, thoughts deep what had happened. He had him, had his mentor's killer, Craig Marduk at his mercy. He could have killed him while he was on the hospital bed. It would have been quick and he wouldn't have suffered. And because of the condition he was in, the doctors would have thought that he died of his earlier injuries. But then he saw it. A small picture of Craig and his family. He hesitated. No, I must finish this. This man killed Armor King, my friend. He deserves to die! But the image continued to play in his head. Family. He never really had a family. He was an orphan and was raised as such. But then there was him. King. The first one. He treated him and the other orphans as his own children. Then when he died, he was devastated. And he was a teenager at the time.

But then he saw an opportunity to honor his memory. He saw that the orphanage that King took care of was about to become bankrupt so in order to take care of this, he would become the next King and fight for the orphanage. However, he lacked any real skill or power and lost constantly. Then he showed up. The Dark One. The shadow knight, Armor King. The boy told him his story and he decided to train him to truly take the mantle of King. The training was extreme and difficult, but he managed and became the new heir to the throne, King II. He remembered one of Armor King's first lessons. Don't drop your guard on your prey. Of course, he learned it the hard way as Armor King promptly beat him afterward.

It was around that time Armor told him of King's demise. How he knocked out Armor King in order to fight the demon warrior, Ogre alone. And how he died in the process.  King swore to avenge the first King's death and entered the third tournament. but despite his best efforts, he never confronted Ogre. From what he learned, a young man by the name of Jin Kazama was the one who finally destroyed him. And first, King was upset about not being able to kill Ogre with his own hands. However, Armor King told him that the boy had to defeat Ogre to avenge his mother, Jun Kazama, who was also killed by Ogre. At this, King calmed himself and found peace in that Ogre was destroyed. But then years later, he heard that Armor King was murdered. Killed by a Vale Tudo fighter. King couldn't believe it. Armor King was one of the most powerful warriors to exist. It seemed impossible that someone, anyone could kill him. But it proved true and Armor King was in fact, dead. King was deeply saddened by this fact and with that sadness, his anger arose again. He would kill this man, erase his very existence. But he wanted to do it in an honorable way and give this man a fighting chance. It seemed on fitting that way. King arranged the murderers release into the King of Iron Fist Tournament 4 where they would meet and King could exact his revenge. King found him and brutally defeated him after which he left the tournament, but not without a large amount of money. But this wasn't about money. But at the time where he could have taken his vengeance, he didn't. Why? All because this man had a family? What did it matter? The guy took his last real family. Where was the justice in that?

Tired, King let go of these thoughts and he walked to his home. He decided to re-visit Armor King's grave once again. On the way, he stopped to pick up some flowers. King smirked. Armor King would have had a fit about being given flowers on his grave. He walked a long way; pass the orphanage and stopping off briefly to tell everyone of his whereabouts. He then took a long walk to Armor King's grave. It began to rain, but King didn't care. If anything, the rain reflected his sad mood. But as he looked toward the hill, he saw a figure, a person, a boy. The kid was kneeling over Armor King's grave. King looked in astonishment and walked over to the boy. He heard muffled sounds coming from him. Was he...crying? Who was this boy? Who was he to my mentor?

King stood just behind the boy when he realized that the boy was far older than he thought. In fact, the boy was a teenager, around the same age as King was when he started training. The boy heard King behind him and stopped crying.

"He would be mad at me for crying, you know."

The boy turned and faced him and King saw his face through the rain. The boy's eyes were strange, much like King's eyes with the mask on. The eyes of a jaguar.

"Who are you?"

The boy looked at him strangely, "You're the one right? The second King?"

"Yes."

"He told me a lot about you. He said that you were the one."

"He?"

"Armor King."

King asked again, "Who are you?"

"His son."

King's eyes widened at this. A son? He never mentioned anything about a son.

King growled, "Don't kid with me, boy!"

The teen looked at him dead in the eyes, "I can assure you that I speak the truth."

King remained skeptical, but those eyes. They were Jaguarundi eyes, no doubt. But Armor King's son? Before another thought crossed into his mind, the boy suddenly lunged at him, leaping high into the air. King was surprised as he was suddenly knocked back. King rolled down the hill and the boy came at him again. On instinct, King kicked him with his boot, but the boy merely shrugged it off and stood up. Despite the rain, they began circling each other in fighting stance, like cats ready to pounce. Suddenly the boy charged and King followed suit. They met in a fierce grapple and King felt the strength of the boy. They held each other like that for a while, both trying to push the other back. Finally, seeing no other alternative, King lifted his arms upward, throwing the boy's arms up too, grabbed his shoulders and spun around in a tornado DDT. The boy fell to the ground, but suddenly rolled up and as King arose from his move, the boy hits him with a powerful clothesline. King slammed into the ground and jumped up. How did he do that? On wet grass no less. No one is able to roll out of a move like that and counter with such force. The boy gave a small grin.

"Don't drop your guard on your prey."

Those words. They were the same. Even the cold, steely way he said it was the same. King stood out of stance.

"Explain yourself."

The boy stood out as well, although a little cautiously at first. "Where should I start?"

King folded his hands, "First off, where are you from?"

"Far away."

"Okay. Who was your mother?"

"I don't remember her. Armor King told me that she died when I was born."

King was a little frustrated. So far, he's told me nothing. Just like him. "Alright then, why do you think Armor King is your father? You have his techniques and his attitude, but I need something concrete."

The boy thought for awhile and then raised a sleeve on his shirt. "Will this do?"

King looked as he saw the boy's arm was semi-scarred. Sniffing it, he faintly recognized Armor King's scent.

"When I was five, he marked me just as the tribe said should be done."

"Tribe? The Jaguarundi?"

"Yes. I was raised there. He took care of me when he was there and taught me how to fight. He would leave every now and again and he would always tell me about King. How he was one of his best friends. He also mentioned you, the cub of King and his new heir."

"Hmmm. I'm not saying I believe you fully, but I have no reason to doubt you either. What did you plan to do?"

"I...don't know. I've never really been out into the world by myself. I was able to find this place based on some instructions he left me."

"What instructions? Show me."

The boy dug his hand into a pouch that was slung on his back. He then pulled out several sheets of paper. King took them and read them over. Despite the rain, he was still able to smell something. These have his scent all over it. He then found one particular note.

King

Should a time come where I am no longer alive, then I must ask of a request for you. I want you watch over and train my son. You need not know his name unless he tells you, which he won't. You will know him by the mark on his right arm that I left on him. My scent will be there so there is no doubt about his identity. Just as you became the heir to the King, he must do the same with me.

Your greatest friend and adversary

A.K.

P.S. Don't be soft on him.

King smiled a little and then turned to the boy. "Why didn't you show me this earlier?"

"............"

Hmph, this will take some work. "According to this, I am to train you. And that's just what I'm going to do. Your father was a feared warrior and you will be no different. The training will be hard and brutal, but you will succeed. I will see to it. When you aren't training, you will be sparring with me. You have good moves, but they will not be effective in a real fight."

"I beat you."

"Hardly. I held back so I could know who you were. If I fought at full-force, you wouldn't even be alive." King turned around, "But I will also show you the world around. You will need this knowledge if you are to become a skilled fighter." He gave the boy a hard stare. "This is your last chance. Are you sure you wish to take this path? Once done, there's no turning back. Do you want to do this?"

The boy looked almost hesitant. But then he turned and looked back at the grave. Father. I will make you proud.

"Yes. I will do this."

"What is your name?"

".........."

"He said you'd do that. Well, until your training is complete, I will call you Seiki."

"Whatever."

King and Seiki began. King put him through the exact same training regime as Armor King had given him. There were times when Seiki appeared to look as if he would fall over or pass out from the exercises. But the boy's eyes would flash with determination and he would push himself to keep going. King watched as Seiki improved. During their sparring matches, King would put his body though extremes, constantly pummeling him with his grappling holds and techniques. As time went on, Seiki managed to withstand the attacks and even learned how to escape and reverse them. His body became like that of a gladiator, hard and rigid as a boulder. His speed was almost inhuman and his agility increased just the same. After awhile, King would let Seiki fight in wrestling tournaments against other wrestlers around the world. Shiki's training paid off as he completely and utterly crushed his opponents without effort. During these matches, Shiki always wore a mask, not a jaguar one, just a plain ordinary mask. And his name was never announced to anyone, making him a mystery, just as his father. A year has gone by and King looked at his pupil, whose training was now completed. King nodded to him and showed him a sheet of paper.

"What is this?"

"Read."

It was an invitation. It announced the King of Iron Fist tournament 5. Shiki nodded, "So I will be entering?"

"Yes. As will I." King pointed to the closet. "Put it on."

Shiki opened the closet. Inside was a black set of clothes and armor. Shiki fitted the clothes on and then fitted the armor. It was different from Armor King's armor in that it was lighter and sleeker. Once completed, Shiki walked back to King. Together, the two of them walked outside up to Armor King's grave. On top of it, a black jaguar mask hung there, similar to Armor King's, including up to the red scar on one of the eyes. They stood there quietly and then King took the mask off the grave and handed it to Shiki. Shiki put it on and immediately felt the power fill him. His senses expanded tremendously and he felt something else. Rage. Pure, unbridled rage. He had to calm himself to control it.

"Shiki. How do you feel?"

"Alive. Awake. But you made a mistake." His voice had changed slightly, almost as in a constant growl.

"And what is that?"

"Shiki no longer exists. He is no more and the Jaguarundi shadow knight is reborn."

King smiled. That night, one year ago, he asked himself if there was justice anymore. Now, looking at his student, he at last had his answer.

"Yes. You are right, Welcome back, Dark One."

The two King's roared in the moonlight. The tournament would begin soon. And a new Armor King will arise to the new challengers, to once again show that he is a force to be feared.

Let the bodies hit the floor.

Author- What do you think? Sorry about that last line, but I couldn't help it. R&R please.