Kazuya Mishima looked at his fallen foe with contempt. The injured man groaned, clasping his ribs through his satin shirt, blood streaming from his nose. He glanced up at the victor to be greeted with a smirk.

You should have stayed hidden, brother, Kazuya sneered. I would have thought that even you would have had the sense to do that.

Lee Chao Lan pulled himself into a sitting position, wincing as he did so. He visibly struggled to summon his bravado, pushing back his newly dyed purple hair.

And I would have thought you'd be dead after being thrown into a volcano. Looks like we're going to keep surprising each other.

Kazuya snorted dismissively. He doubted that Lee had anything even remotely surprising left in him. He shook his head. He began walking away, but looked back over his shoulder. I'm going to kill Heihachi.

Lee laughed. Ah, twenty years on and you're still repeating the same tired refrain! Just make sure you finish the job this time, Kazuya. Give the old man my warm regards.

Kazuya looked at him momentarily outraged, before calming himself. His adoptive brother wasn't worth his time nor effort - better to let him live out his own petty life, full of failure. And Lee had stood behind him after he won the first tournament-

Only so he could stick a knife in your back, Kazuya...

Kazuya shook his head as he left the crowds behind him, climbing into his chauffeur-driven Limousine. Since his resurrection, he had found it increasing difficult to keep his thoughts and that of his guest' seperate. Sometimes he wasn't at all sure which thoughts were his own, and that disturbed him. He had always been his own man...

Or had he? He sometimes felt that he was lying to himself - he lost his freedom the moment he was first possessed by the entity which now permanently inhabited his body. Looking at his scarred reflection in the window, he thought about all that he had lost throughout his life; when he decimated the Tekkenshu no more than a month ago, he swore that he would get everything back...but some things were gone forever. He could - and would - regain control of the Mishima Ziabatsu. He would kill his father. His vengeance was all he had left.

And all that I need.

He smirked. The pure fury he felt towards his father was his own, he knew that for certain. He idly wondered if his son felt the same way about him. The boy had entered the tournament, despite the fact he had spent the past two years hiding from Heihachi. Maybe he too wanted revenge on the old man; reports from G-Corporation's spies within the Ziabatsu had said that the boy had been shot multiple times after his victory over Ogre, the so-called God of Fighting'. Jin Kazama was a survivor, if nothing else.

If he was honest with himself, Kazuya had to admit that he was curious about the son he had never met. Photos showed that the boy took after him physically, if not psychologically. Apparently the boy took after his mother in temperament, being prey rather than predator.

Perhaps Heihachi had done the boy a favour by shooting him, teaching him the true nature of life.

What made him even more curious was that the entity within Kazuya was more than eager to meet the boy; Kazuya thought he almost felt a strange sense of longing from the creature. He couldn't understand it, but he guessed it had something to do with his son also possessing the Devil Gene.

He leaned back into the upholstered seat; all would be revealed soon enough.