*Satan, you know where I lie
Gently I go into that good night
All our lives get complicated
Search for pleasures over-rated
Never found our souls (?)
What the future would hold
We were innocent
Angels, lend me your might
Thought that all my lies
I'd get just one right
All those colors long since faded
And all our smiles are confiscated
Never did we know
That we'd been bought and sold
We were innocent*
*Fuel - Innocent*
Present day...
A harsh, bitter wind swept by Bryan Fury as he stepped off the plane at the Tokyo International Airport. Almost immediately, he spotted his ride, and climbed into the long black limosine. No bags. The ride was a long one, and he used the time to catch a catnap before arriving at Abel's lab.
God, he hated this place. He still remembered when Abel had brought him back to life here. It had been like waking up from a nightmare. He'd woken up, all right, with one hand wrapped firmly around an assistant's windpipe. The assistant had died quickly, and Bryan hadn't apologized for it.
For bringing Bryan back to life, Abel demanded tasks of him. Get this information, kill those people--not like he had anything better to do. His life as an Interpol detective was over, no doubt. He couldn't exactly walk back into the office. He was dead, after all. Dead...
That's right, he forced himself to admit. You're dead. His internal organs had been ravaged by the shower of bullets, and Bryan had eaten the sickening mix of blood and gravel for at least a minute after the shots had faded. He could still feel the pain of those bullets, and his hand absently traveled to the bullet-scars on his chest as he thought.
His memory of the past, particularly his childhood, had been erased. His internal organs had needed immediate treatment, and now Bryan found himself the proud owner of a cutting-edge bio-mechanical set of organs, complete with a pacemaker-like heart, and a completely revamped digestive system. He was bullet-proof, too, with something like plastic chainmail, just under the skin in his front and back. He was a goddamn cyborg.
The thing that really disturbed him were his emotions, or lack thereof. He couldn't feel happy or sad anymore. All he could feel was bitterness. He became cynical, and sarcastic, and increasingly rude to everyone. His emotions faded to memories, and nearly disappeared. He'd feel sad about that, if he could.
As to Abel's tasks, they gave him something to do, and exploited his rage over his betrayal. The first people he'd killed, once brought back to life, were the gang leaders, as well as a few choice cops he'd never liked. He couldn't find Lei, not that he wanted to. No sadness equals no remorse, remember?
It was a half a year now since the King of Iron Fist Tournament 3. He'd been brought back only two weeks after his death, and had spent the time from then till now doing tasks and running errands for Dr. Abel. Now, all that was about to change.
The limosine pulled through the wrought iron gates and up the drive to the garage, where Bryan stepped out. He knew his way to Abel's lab, and headed there immediately. He wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted him.
Abel's lab was almost completely bare. No stacked papers, no big filing cabinets. The large computers were gone. All that was left were some cardboard boxes, and a few chairs. Abel was directing the removal when he spotted Bryan.
"Fury! Why did you return so late? I expected results much sooner than this." Abel's voice was the last thing Bryan wanted to hear.
"I can't find him! It's like his disappeared. None of my sources know where-"
"Failure! I will hear no more of your excuses! I am done with you! Goodbye, failure!" That said, Abel turned his back on Bryan and once again directing the cleanup when he felt Bryan's black-gloved hand close around his windpipe.
"You wanna run that by me again?" His voice was low and deep, and even through the gloves he could feel the blood pulsing in Abel's veins.
"I said I am done with you! I don't need you any more! I've been hired as the chief scientist for the Mishima Zaibatsu, and they already have a much more challenging project in store for me. So, get out of my sight!" How Abel managed to keep his cool, he had no idea. He'd been staring into the coldest eyes in the world, and even through Bryan's gloves, he could feel the cyborg's icy touch. His breath was the only thing warm about him, and it was a bit sour.
Bryan's features tightened, as did his grip, and for a moment it seemed to the entire room that the cyborg would strangle the little man right then and there. Then the grip loosened, and Abel dropped to the ground. "You bastard..." it was the only thing that came out of Bryan's mouth for several seconds. Abel climbed to his feet.
"If you must stay, then I suppose that I do have something for you to do. Here-" Abel tossed Bryan a manila envelope full of papers. "Another failing project of mine. If you truly feel the need, you can be a part of that one. You should be dead in a few months, anyway. Now get out of my sight!"
Bryan stared at Abel for a second, trying vainly to display all his hatred for the little man in a single look. It was all Abel could do to maintain eye contact. Then abruptly Bryan spun on his heel and exited the lab, slamming the glass door so hard that it shattered.
An hour later found Bryan on a plane back to America. He reviewed the folder's contents for the millionth time.
It was a little something known as 'The Angel Project,' gone sour because the subject was becoming rebellious and uncontrollable. The subject needed a stable figure, one that she could look up to. Yeah, Bryan supposed he could at least do this. Some kind of simulated family environment. Be a positive role model, yadda yadda. He almost decided not to do it, but something persuaded him otherwise. What else could he do, be a contract killer? Tempting, but he didn't have the patience.
The girl's name (why a girl?) was Angel. He studied a photograph. She was tall, and thin. She had gleaming silver hair (like Lee Chaolan's). Her skin was pale, almost gray. Her lavendar eyes were incredibly piercing, like his. One look from her sent shivers down your spine, even from a photograph!
She was a stunning martial arts master. Shotokan, aikido, kenpo, kung fu, Tae Kwon Do... the list went on and on. This kid was a freakin' GrandMaster martial artist at the age of 17. As for her track record... she'd never lost a fight, as far as he could tell. Not only was she a skilled martial artist, she was well-trained in hand weapons, and preferred knives above all others. She hated guns, because they took the challenge out of the fight. No surprise; she was a skilled marksman as well. Jesus. She was the perfect soldier. So, why was the project going under?
The file was plain: Due to the gross inexperience of her guardian, one Kenji Takahashi, she was becoming increasingly rude and confrontational. She was also an extreme loner. And--Jesus Christ, she'd already attempted suicide. No friends, no family, only a heartless bastard raising her... no wonder Kenji was fearing for his life now. Bryan would be, too.
Bryan spent the rest of the flight pouring over the files, and catching up on his sleep. Once at his destination, he took a cab to the current address listed on the file. A quaint little two-story (could it be anything but?), complete with a large, elaborate Japanese garden surrounding the house. He'd barely taken five steps toward the house when the barking started.
He froze in his tracks when a huge ball of fur and teeth flew from the back of the house. It planted itself about five feet from Bryan, and took a "guard dog" type stance, barking and showing its teeth. It was easily the biggest German Shepherd he'd ever seen. Christ, he'd seen smaller ponies at the zoo. Then came the call from the house. Something yelled in Japanese. Instantly the dog stopped barking, and sat quietly regarding him.
Out of the house stepped the person who could only be Kenji Takahashi. A short Japanese man with a cane. "Who are you?" His voice was sharp, and so nasal as to be painful.
"Abel sent me." Bryan's voice was cold and clear, but his eyes never left the mammoth dog-mountain in front of him. "Nice dog."
"Abel sent you? What for? And that's not my dog; it's HERS."
"He decided I needed a change of pace, and apparently thought I'd make a good family man. The name's Fury. Bryan Fury."
"Family? YOU would pose as Tenshi's father? You are a bit young, aren't you? Besides, I am Tenshi's father."
Bryan gave a short, dry laugh. "Not father. I was thinking more along the lines of 'brother.' Abel's worried about this project failing, and sent me to give you a hand."
Kenji drew himself to his full height, which was about to Bryan's chest. "I am NOT failing. SHE is becoming disobedient. I am controlling her perfectly fine, and don't need you."
"Yeah, whatever. I'm staying, and that's that. You got a problem with that?" Bryan's tone was dangerous. "Now, where is she?"
Kenji glanced at the clock after giving Bryan a heavy glare. "She is still in school right now. After that, she'll probably go to that BAR."
At the mention of a bar, Bryan's eyes lit up. "She hangs out at a bar? I thought she was underage."
"She is. She drinks sodas."
Bryan shrugged. "Whatever. Gimme the address, I'll wait for her there."
Kenji glared. "Why must you come here? I have this situation perfectly under control, and don't need-"
"Look, you little bastard. I don't give a shit about your little problems. She not listening to you? Tough cookies. Now gimme that address, before I break your fucking arm."
Kenji paled, then straightened. Trying to regain some measure of control, he attempted to stare Bryan down. He failed miserably. "You may stay, only if you think you can control her. She no longer listens to me."
A cold smile oozed from the thin line that was Bryan's mouth. "She'll listen to me, all right."
Gently I go into that good night
All our lives get complicated
Search for pleasures over-rated
Never found our souls (?)
What the future would hold
We were innocent
Angels, lend me your might
Thought that all my lies
I'd get just one right
All those colors long since faded
And all our smiles are confiscated
Never did we know
That we'd been bought and sold
We were innocent*
*Fuel - Innocent*
Present day...
A harsh, bitter wind swept by Bryan Fury as he stepped off the plane at the Tokyo International Airport. Almost immediately, he spotted his ride, and climbed into the long black limosine. No bags. The ride was a long one, and he used the time to catch a catnap before arriving at Abel's lab.
God, he hated this place. He still remembered when Abel had brought him back to life here. It had been like waking up from a nightmare. He'd woken up, all right, with one hand wrapped firmly around an assistant's windpipe. The assistant had died quickly, and Bryan hadn't apologized for it.
For bringing Bryan back to life, Abel demanded tasks of him. Get this information, kill those people--not like he had anything better to do. His life as an Interpol detective was over, no doubt. He couldn't exactly walk back into the office. He was dead, after all. Dead...
That's right, he forced himself to admit. You're dead. His internal organs had been ravaged by the shower of bullets, and Bryan had eaten the sickening mix of blood and gravel for at least a minute after the shots had faded. He could still feel the pain of those bullets, and his hand absently traveled to the bullet-scars on his chest as he thought.
His memory of the past, particularly his childhood, had been erased. His internal organs had needed immediate treatment, and now Bryan found himself the proud owner of a cutting-edge bio-mechanical set of organs, complete with a pacemaker-like heart, and a completely revamped digestive system. He was bullet-proof, too, with something like plastic chainmail, just under the skin in his front and back. He was a goddamn cyborg.
The thing that really disturbed him were his emotions, or lack thereof. He couldn't feel happy or sad anymore. All he could feel was bitterness. He became cynical, and sarcastic, and increasingly rude to everyone. His emotions faded to memories, and nearly disappeared. He'd feel sad about that, if he could.
As to Abel's tasks, they gave him something to do, and exploited his rage over his betrayal. The first people he'd killed, once brought back to life, were the gang leaders, as well as a few choice cops he'd never liked. He couldn't find Lei, not that he wanted to. No sadness equals no remorse, remember?
It was a half a year now since the King of Iron Fist Tournament 3. He'd been brought back only two weeks after his death, and had spent the time from then till now doing tasks and running errands for Dr. Abel. Now, all that was about to change.
The limosine pulled through the wrought iron gates and up the drive to the garage, where Bryan stepped out. He knew his way to Abel's lab, and headed there immediately. He wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted him.
Abel's lab was almost completely bare. No stacked papers, no big filing cabinets. The large computers were gone. All that was left were some cardboard boxes, and a few chairs. Abel was directing the removal when he spotted Bryan.
"Fury! Why did you return so late? I expected results much sooner than this." Abel's voice was the last thing Bryan wanted to hear.
"I can't find him! It's like his disappeared. None of my sources know where-"
"Failure! I will hear no more of your excuses! I am done with you! Goodbye, failure!" That said, Abel turned his back on Bryan and once again directing the cleanup when he felt Bryan's black-gloved hand close around his windpipe.
"You wanna run that by me again?" His voice was low and deep, and even through the gloves he could feel the blood pulsing in Abel's veins.
"I said I am done with you! I don't need you any more! I've been hired as the chief scientist for the Mishima Zaibatsu, and they already have a much more challenging project in store for me. So, get out of my sight!" How Abel managed to keep his cool, he had no idea. He'd been staring into the coldest eyes in the world, and even through Bryan's gloves, he could feel the cyborg's icy touch. His breath was the only thing warm about him, and it was a bit sour.
Bryan's features tightened, as did his grip, and for a moment it seemed to the entire room that the cyborg would strangle the little man right then and there. Then the grip loosened, and Abel dropped to the ground. "You bastard..." it was the only thing that came out of Bryan's mouth for several seconds. Abel climbed to his feet.
"If you must stay, then I suppose that I do have something for you to do. Here-" Abel tossed Bryan a manila envelope full of papers. "Another failing project of mine. If you truly feel the need, you can be a part of that one. You should be dead in a few months, anyway. Now get out of my sight!"
Bryan stared at Abel for a second, trying vainly to display all his hatred for the little man in a single look. It was all Abel could do to maintain eye contact. Then abruptly Bryan spun on his heel and exited the lab, slamming the glass door so hard that it shattered.
An hour later found Bryan on a plane back to America. He reviewed the folder's contents for the millionth time.
It was a little something known as 'The Angel Project,' gone sour because the subject was becoming rebellious and uncontrollable. The subject needed a stable figure, one that she could look up to. Yeah, Bryan supposed he could at least do this. Some kind of simulated family environment. Be a positive role model, yadda yadda. He almost decided not to do it, but something persuaded him otherwise. What else could he do, be a contract killer? Tempting, but he didn't have the patience.
The girl's name (why a girl?) was Angel. He studied a photograph. She was tall, and thin. She had gleaming silver hair (like Lee Chaolan's). Her skin was pale, almost gray. Her lavendar eyes were incredibly piercing, like his. One look from her sent shivers down your spine, even from a photograph!
She was a stunning martial arts master. Shotokan, aikido, kenpo, kung fu, Tae Kwon Do... the list went on and on. This kid was a freakin' GrandMaster martial artist at the age of 17. As for her track record... she'd never lost a fight, as far as he could tell. Not only was she a skilled martial artist, she was well-trained in hand weapons, and preferred knives above all others. She hated guns, because they took the challenge out of the fight. No surprise; she was a skilled marksman as well. Jesus. She was the perfect soldier. So, why was the project going under?
The file was plain: Due to the gross inexperience of her guardian, one Kenji Takahashi, she was becoming increasingly rude and confrontational. She was also an extreme loner. And--Jesus Christ, she'd already attempted suicide. No friends, no family, only a heartless bastard raising her... no wonder Kenji was fearing for his life now. Bryan would be, too.
Bryan spent the rest of the flight pouring over the files, and catching up on his sleep. Once at his destination, he took a cab to the current address listed on the file. A quaint little two-story (could it be anything but?), complete with a large, elaborate Japanese garden surrounding the house. He'd barely taken five steps toward the house when the barking started.
He froze in his tracks when a huge ball of fur and teeth flew from the back of the house. It planted itself about five feet from Bryan, and took a "guard dog" type stance, barking and showing its teeth. It was easily the biggest German Shepherd he'd ever seen. Christ, he'd seen smaller ponies at the zoo. Then came the call from the house. Something yelled in Japanese. Instantly the dog stopped barking, and sat quietly regarding him.
Out of the house stepped the person who could only be Kenji Takahashi. A short Japanese man with a cane. "Who are you?" His voice was sharp, and so nasal as to be painful.
"Abel sent me." Bryan's voice was cold and clear, but his eyes never left the mammoth dog-mountain in front of him. "Nice dog."
"Abel sent you? What for? And that's not my dog; it's HERS."
"He decided I needed a change of pace, and apparently thought I'd make a good family man. The name's Fury. Bryan Fury."
"Family? YOU would pose as Tenshi's father? You are a bit young, aren't you? Besides, I am Tenshi's father."
Bryan gave a short, dry laugh. "Not father. I was thinking more along the lines of 'brother.' Abel's worried about this project failing, and sent me to give you a hand."
Kenji drew himself to his full height, which was about to Bryan's chest. "I am NOT failing. SHE is becoming disobedient. I am controlling her perfectly fine, and don't need you."
"Yeah, whatever. I'm staying, and that's that. You got a problem with that?" Bryan's tone was dangerous. "Now, where is she?"
Kenji glanced at the clock after giving Bryan a heavy glare. "She is still in school right now. After that, she'll probably go to that BAR."
At the mention of a bar, Bryan's eyes lit up. "She hangs out at a bar? I thought she was underage."
"She is. She drinks sodas."
Bryan shrugged. "Whatever. Gimme the address, I'll wait for her there."
Kenji glared. "Why must you come here? I have this situation perfectly under control, and don't need-"
"Look, you little bastard. I don't give a shit about your little problems. She not listening to you? Tough cookies. Now gimme that address, before I break your fucking arm."
Kenji paled, then straightened. Trying to regain some measure of control, he attempted to stare Bryan down. He failed miserably. "You may stay, only if you think you can control her. She no longer listens to me."
A cold smile oozed from the thin line that was Bryan's mouth. "She'll listen to me, all right."