Hey, everyone!
So there's a reason I deleted this fanfiction and re-uploaded it, I received a spam comment that relates nothing to the plot, and I couldn't get rid of it. So here it is again with a new chapter. I'm sorry about this, and I promise this isn't some sort of troll manuever.
Just a reminder: I welcome comments and even criticism, but any comment that has absolutely no relevance to this story will not be tolerated.
Again, my apologies.
Disclaimer: Tekken is own by Bandai (Namco)
Mishima Headquarters, Kyoto, Japan
The failures of the experiments were disappointing, but this was to be expected.
Heihachi sits at his desk with the afternoon skyline of Yokohama shining bright sun rays into his fairly dark room. He grunts tiredly feeling his age right now.
Ever since killing Ogre two years ago, Heihachi forced his top scientists to recover the remains of the ancient beast and, with the aid of Heihachi's genetic material, can create the new life form to help solidify his hold on the Mishima Zaibatsu and beyond. Unfortunately for Heihachi, the experiment ended in complete failure, and he learned that he needed to acquire the Devil Gene that plagued his lifeblood.
The thing that was the ultimate curse, is now the missing component to further his ambitions.
In a fit of rage, Heihachi hastily dispatched all of his contacts and agents across the globe to find Jin: the grandson he reluctantly betrayed two years ago. Instead, he became informed of a more shocking discovery: Kazuya Mishima's scorched body in the hands of G-Corporation.
With his hope restored, and his soul soothed, Heihachi is soon to address his Tekken Force about their latest mission.
But, right now, other matters acquire his attention.
Heihachi gently taps on his desk, producing a soft chime and his glass surface digitalize into a news broadcast of the Mishima Zaibatsu's accomplishments in Japan. Several news anchors are covering the breaking news.
"Over the past week, the United States has signed over all military installations and bases all throughout mainland Japan to the Mishima Zaibatsu: the multinational conglomerate renown for announcing only three King of Iron Fist Tournaments. Although the U.S. has no plans to hand over it's remaining military and civilian assets in Okinawa, Heihachi Mishima, the CEO of the Mishima Zaibatsu vows for the same results in the upcoming negotiations today between the United States and the Mishima Zaibatsu. In other news..."
Heihachi is growing impatient for the ambassadors to arrive but remains at his desk. He jabs his finger down on the screen making the broadcast disappear and restoring the blank glass surface.
Feeling a strong weariness dominating his body, Heihachi's eyelids grow heavy and doesn't even resist closing them.
His stomach churns and his vision is in a wild spiral before landing on the black and white tile floor. Heihachi begins to feel an unbearable pain in his gut as a demonic Kazuya slowly approaches him, each step clicks with mockery and terror. Knowing the unlimited cruelty of Kazuya, Heihachi staggers to his feet growling at the dark violet animal. He channels the remainder of his energy, a technique created in the Mishima style of martial arts, and without reserve, delivers a blow that is designed to kill Kazuya and eradicate this curse once and for all.
If only his strike actually effected Kazuya at all, which is not the case.
As if it is some cunning illusion, Heihachi's fist fills the gut of Kazuya but feels no impact of his blow, no bone-crunching cracks in the ribs. Nothing.
He can see Kazuya's glowing red eyes beaming bright, like shining stars in the night sky. The burning in Heihachi's head is unforgiving and howls in unspeakable pain letting his whole vision be blinded by a white filter. His screams are drowned out by the distorted voice of his own son.
"You cannot defeat what you created, Heihachi."
A dark chuckle is the last thing Heihachi hears before feeling his heart stop.
Heihachi gasps and shoots up in his chair, his face dripping lightly with a cold sweat. His rapid breathing quickly steadies and loosens his tense shoulders reminding himself that it was merely a dream.
"It's over," Heihachi mutters quietly, rubbing his temples. "It's finally over."
Despite this assurance he reminds himself of, Heihachi does not feel the quiet sense of satisfaction or the lukewarm serenity. Just more restlessness and frustration in these haunting dreams he is cursed with.
Is this a parting gift from Kazuya before he perished in the boiling lava of the volcano? Can a dead devil somehow taunt him with these nightmares?
The more he thought about it, the more he is convinced that it's true.
"Even as a dead man, you try to make me weak!" Heihachi growls, his voice dangerously rising. "You think you can brEAK MY WILL?!"
An enraging shout rushes from Heihachi's throat as he slams his fists down the desk creating several cracking veins on its surface.
With slouching shoulders and a limp fall back into his chair, Heihachi chuckles quietly, forcing his pride to assume control.
"Give it up. It changes nothing..."
A high-pitch beep blares from Heihachi's terminal. Clearing his mind, Heihachi taps down on his damaged surface, creating a digitalized figure of a young woman with a professional persona. Her hair is neatly cropped along with a black suit jacket with a light blue button shirt underneath. Heihachi can see through her neutral expression a mild nervousness in her eyes.
"Mr. Mishima?" For a new employee, she excels in sounding confident. "They're here, sir."
Heihachi narrows his brows. "Who's here, Emi?" He sternly demands. He knows who she is referring to, but if she's going to do her job, she needs to inform him properly. "If you don't remember the names of who's to be seeing me, I can greet them personally!"
"N-no need, sir!" Emi stammers. "Ambassador Hughes, t-the American ambassador meeting today at the... 2:45 meeting... PM! Not AM!"
"Thank you, Emi." Heihachi's tone warms up. "Send him in."
"Yes, sir!"
The feed is cut and Emi's holographic portrait disappears.
Right now, a dull negotiation might be what Heihachi needs to shake Kazuya from his thoughts.
A soft creaking from the titanic doors is heard as a lone figure enters from within a dark shading. Heihachi can see the tall skinny stature of his visitor and as he emerges into the dim light, the figure turns out to be a middle-aged man with everything from his suit to his clean-cut being loose, but well cared for. Heihachi notices the slump in his posture and a mild limp in his movement before walking over to greet Heihachi.
The two men exchange handshakes with Heihachi's grip shaking Ambassador Hughes's whole body. As they both take their seats, Heihachi feels more confident that this round of negotiations is going to be easier than he previously thought.
*TK*
G Coporation Facility, Nebraska, USA
Shrouded in a dark void, Kazuya fearlessly waits for his enemies that cannot be seen with the naked eye. Kazuya can hear the faint whirring of gears and machinery in a rhythmic manner that gradually increases in a way to send chills down the spines of even the most battle-hardened warriors. Kazuya, however, remains unintimidated by this indirect tactic and patiently waits for whatever comes his way.
Kazuya let's out a curt hum when he can hear ground shaking stomps growing loud at an alarming rate. They suddenly stop and Kazuya cocks his head with a bored "Hmph!" Before crying out a ferocious shout and spins his arm around at a sharp right angle and quickly feels the hard impact of his first victims. Bright sparks fickle for a quick second before vanishing and several loud clanks and a hard thud are heard.
Kazuya hears the stomping speeding up causing a miniature earthquake and positions himself for the horde closing in on him.
Kazuya brings his fist out in a clean uppercut resulting in more fizzling sparks and raises another arm up to successfully deflect a punishing blow to his face. Taking advantage of the failed offensive, Kazuya rings his arm around the broad cold metallic arm of his opponent and brutally squeezes it to which he hears the loud creaking of dented metal and a distorted scream from his victim. He brings his foot out and savagely bends another metal limb before lunging his body back successfully tearing the limb of those broad-shouldered robots.
One after another, Kazuya ruthlessly disposed of the Jack-2 models in the cover of the void. He can feel the adrenaline racing throughout his body, blessing him with more strength that is hardly needed, but nonetheless welcoming. When the offensive ceased and numerously sparks periodically burst in the air, Kazuya passes the training course and severly depleted the stock of Jack-2's G-Corp have collected decades ago.
Kazuya hums again and begins walking towards the exit before the lights blind the vast dome-shaped room decorated with the millions of messy remains of the killing machines leaving the observant scientists glaring down in astonishment.
Dana could not believe what she just saw. She heard the stories of his skill and prowess, but to see it with her own two eyes. It's the type of brutal fight she would see in a action movie!
"Holy shit!" Shonkar mutters in amazement. "Did you just see what he did there." He laughs nervously. "Remind me to never get on his bad side, huh, Dana? I swear, I almost feel sorry for his dad."
Dana pays no attention to her colleague and keeps her gaze fixed on Kazuya as he exits through an opening on the wall, exiting the arena.
So... that's something you don't see everyday. I wonder how much of that strength and skill was from the Devil Gene or from Kazuya? Maybe it's both. We'll have to get a new batch of tests on him. Not that he'll complain. Dude practically is in love with some needles and bio tanks.
"Hey Dana." She feels her arm being lightly nudged. "You alright there?"
Dana looks at him with a hard stare, gets to her feet and marches out of the observing room calling back to Shonkar, "Follow me!"
She starts to jogs through the long corridor with a puzzled Shonkar following her at arm's length, shouting at her what's going on and where she is heading. Dana didn't respond at first, but Shonkar's endless supply of questions begin to frustrate her and cranes her neck around and calmly hisses. "Shonkar, shut the fuck up." Before she could face forward, Dana grunts on impacting into something, or more accurately someone. She falls to the floor and looks up to see Kazuya bare-chested and in white Gi pants with a graceful lightning image on the lower right leg. As their eyes meet, Dana can see Kazuya's left eye glowing with a blood red color. His deadly glare made freezes her, but for a moment as she bravely rises to her feet and says nothing. Kazuya simply scoffs and walks away muttering something in his native language.
"I think I just pissed myself..." Shonkar whimpers fearfully.
Dana sighs and picks up the pace until she reaches her room where she quickly zips towards her desk, frantically pulling out every draw until she exhales in relief to see that she has found what she's been hiding in secret: A small sample glass with an bright ethereal essence stored inside.
When Shonkar spots it, gasps in fear. "Did you-"
"Shonkar, look-"
"Are you fucking serious?!" He snaps loudly. "You just... extracted whatever the hell that thing is and you're keeping it a secret! That's a sure way of losing your job!"
"Yeah, thanks, mom." She sarcastically replies gently storing it back in one of her drawers with soft misc. items camouflaging the sample. "Look, whatever this bad boy is, as far as I know it's the only thing that's succesfully terminating the Devil Cells."
"Termina-" Shonkar doesn't finish his word and walks in Dana's room closing the door behind her. "Our job is to not terminate the Devil Cells, we're to fucking suppress them!"
"Think back, Shonkar!" Dana shouts. "You seen the results, every thing we've done so far has failed, and they're taking over!" She sighs and leans on her desk. "At this point, the only way to suppress the Devil Cells is to destroy them. Besides: If the stories are true, destroying them would do us and the world a whole 'lotta good."
"And you think that Kazuya will be on board with this?"
"Nope." She shamlessly answeres popping her P. "That's why we're not going to tell Kazuya about it."
Shonkar does not look assured. "That sounds like a horrible plan that could dangerously backfire. And let me be clear: I like my head and arms where they are thank you!"
"Nothing ventured nothing gained, dude." Dana tells him. "So we are not going to tell anyone about this sample. Not a soul. Not the Director, not the others, and definitely not Kazuya. Deal?"
Shonkar sighs frustratedly. "Dana..."
"Deal?" She repeats firmly
Shonkar growls and begrudgingly replies, "Deal..."
Dana smiles. "Good." She chirps. "Now go sleep it off. I got a mystery to solve. I'll ring you if I need anything."
Shonkar remains silent as he exits her room leaving Dana to safely bring out the sample and dreamily stares at it.
"Not a soul." She whispers to herself gripping the sample close to her heart, like something precious and fragile. "No one."
*TK*
Nassau, The Bahamas
For Lee, it has not been a great day. As he sits on the stool of the ethereal establishment with a lush tropical theme, he sips a small portion of martini into his mouth. He allows for the overpowering taste to slowly subside and whoosh across his mouth before finally delivering it down his throat.
Through his usual flamboyant appearance of a silk purple sleeve shirt with a white vest, shimmering white pants, and sunglasses, Lee seems out of character in his outgoing attire.
Dr. Platts should be thankful that he even has a place in Violet Industries, but ever since Lee lashed out over several failures the Doctor is responsible for, he highly doubts that Platt's is feeling anything but grateful.
*TK*
Earlier today
"Would you like to explain to me what the hell happened in there, Doctor?" Lee's smooth tone was acidic and nearly quiet.
Dr. Platts, displaying the most hardened face he could muster, was trembling in his seat. "Sir," He starts calmly. "That robot was the most advanced piece of hardware ever produced!" He paused for a second remembering who is talking to. "I know the deadline is coming up, but with something this advanced, I-I felt it was in my authority to run an absolute review on all of Combot's primary AND secondary programming."
"Yes, so I've been told repeatedly throughout the week." Lee sounded uninterested. "That's not what I'm referring to." He sprouted from his chair and swung around his desk collecting a tablet. He performed a few light touches on the smooth surface of the device before revealing the design blueprints of Combot.
"Aside from not informing me of the security measure you put in place that may have killed the project, you thought it was a good idea to infuse crude oil into Combot." He points towards the design exposing the interior of the robot. "What is that right there, Doctor?"
"A battery?" Dr. Platts answered hesitantly.
"An electric battery." Lee specified sharply. "No sources of fossil fuels are needed. And yet somehow, I happen to have a pretty horrid oil stain on one of my favorite set of pants." He clicks his tongue five times like he was passively expressing his fuming anger at a guilty child. "Any reason why I did not find a high-quality rechargeable battery installed within it?"
"I-uh... well..." Dr. Platts stammered. "The battery, like the robot, is prototype technology. I just found it a safer solution to... install a more... reliable life source on a machine prone to all sorts of glitches until they've been sorted out. And let me remind you, sir," He added more confidently. "That sort of battery is not the most cost-efficient one."
Lee sighed rubbing his temples. "And let me add all of this up that you failed to inform me. At this point, I felt like you thought it would be a marvelous idea to play God and work on a company project YOUR way."
Dr. Platts eyes grew large and his jaw tightened. The way the seasoned scientist held his rigid stance without so much as sucking in a breath makes it sound like Lee found his guilty crime.
Lee shook his head. "Dammit, all..." He looked up at Dr. Platts with a dead serious glare. "Dr. Platts, it is with utmost disappointment and frustration to tell you that you are relieved from your position as Lead Director of the Combot project."
Dr. Platts's mouth dropped in shock and his fist began to tremble from the hot rage and humiliation. A raspy inhale is all he could muster.
Lee distanced himself from Platts and slowly strolls over the glass window with his hands resting behind his back. Looking out at the lush rainforest blessed with a majestic waterfall, Lee bows his head and purses his lips remembering that it would be rash to outright fire Platts.
After all, he could still be of use.
"Fortunately for you, there's still a place here." Lee's casually shrugs. "I mean, someone has to tend to the grimy and grueling maintenance work of tending to the older but fairly reliable products." He turns to see Platts standing in his chair with a hand hiding behind his back.
Lee makes a mental note of his unusual stance but decides not to call Platts out on his behavior.
"And although this involves more manual labor, the pay is more than substantial. Should you accept."
"And who will be taking over the Combot project?" A disgraced Dr. Platts asks.
Lee's brows narrow sharply. "That's no longer a concern to you, is it, Dr. Platts?" Lee fluidly slides back down into his chair leaning back with his hands tucked around his head. "Suffice to say, the project is being put on hiatus and probably scrapped."
The office door creaks open and Lee glanced from afar to see Val's head poking through the opening with an unpleasant expression painted on her face. Lee darts his eyes down and bites his lip. "Thank you for your mandatory time, Doctor. Should you accept the position, please report no later than 6 AM."
After dismissing Platts, the Doctor stomps out of the office with trembling fists leaving Val to talk to Lee.
Feeling an unpleasant conversation about to brew, Lee craned his neck up to the glistening ceiling and blew out air through his oval-shaped lips.
"You know, I think you should be thanking our shameful former director for installing a rather nasty security measure." Her tone was dripping with unpleasant sarcasm. "It's probably what saved your life!"
"Val, please..."
"'The Ultimate Fighting Machine!" She feigned a deep epic voice in Lee's general American accent. "'A machine that can outperform and overpower Heihachi Mishima! A vision of the future of fighting!'"
"My words exactly..." Lee painfully admitted.
"And yet somehow," Val returns to her natural English dialect. "My bull-headed employer thought it would be a brilliant idea to fight the damn thing!"
Lee raised his hand in defense. "It couldn't rely on training scenarios forever." He explained in a level-headed tone. "Combot needed to put it's training to the test. You know that." He flashed a warm grin with his casual carefree tone. "Besides, I had good faith in my employees to save my egotistical self in crazy situations."
"Well admitting your hubris is the first step..." Val said dryly. "Which brings me to my next report: The team salvaged what they could. The bloody thing is repairable, but don't expect the perfect fighting machine. At best it'll be on par with an average fighter with faulty programming."
Lee's face grew grim. "I see. Well inform the team that the project is likely to be scrapped, but they're not at risk of employment termination."
"Including Platts?" Val boldly reminded him. "He doesn't like to admit it, but that fool likes to run projects his own way. Stubborn idiot..."
"Which is why he should be lucky he even has a place here." The seriousness in Lee's voice was alarming, but no hostility was detected. "Supervised of course. If he happens to get ideas, I'm sure you'll inform me, right?"
Val paused with furrowed brows but nodded. "You'll be the first to know, sir."
Lee grunts approvingly. "Merci, mademoiselle." He thanked her in a playful manner. "Is there anything else I need to know?"
"I mean besides the Mishima Zaibatsu claiming ownership of key spots in Okinawa, G Corporation unlocking new discoveries in genetics research, and my favorite football team suffering a humiliating defeat? No. Nothing of significance."
Lee chuckled at the last bit of news, but the Mishima Zaibatsu having more direct influence across the globe leaves some cause for concern. With Heihachi back at the helm, the Mishima Zaibatsu has become much more favorable in the public's eyes, and that allows for an easier path on Heihachi and his delusional ambitions of world domination. What's even more concerning is Heihachi's ruthless and discipline Tekken Force: The Zaibatsu's military branch that recruited men and women all over the planet into their ranks, and the deadliest force ever created.
Regardless, the Mishima Zaibatsu was better off under Heihachi than his black-hearted son, Kazuya.
Lee chuckled. "Have faith, Val. The season's not over yet."
"Hmph!" Val grunted and smiled. "Might I borrow your lucky bracelet for the next game?"
Lee bit his lip and brought his eyes down to the simple one pearl bracelet on his right wrist. He felt a lukewarm aching in his chest and the longer he stared at that lone pearl, the more his teeth threatened to shred through the skin of his lip.
Before a concerned Val could speak, Lee charmingly answered. "Unfortunately, this bracelet is not blessed with luck?"
"Oh?" Val's mind is quick figure out what he meant. "Ahhh... one your old flames back in your prime days?"
Lee grunts and nodded his head with a smile that looked more forced than authentic. "Thank you, Val. Have the rest of the day to yourself."
Val flashed a concerned look but professionally departed from the office leaving Lee with fluttering eyes and the taste of blood seeping from his cut lip.
*TK*
Lee discarded the bracelet from his wrist before making his way to the Tropical Royale. As popular as the tradition of drinking away the troubles of a trying day, Lee did not resort to such low standards, because partly out of his work, and partly out of the excruciating hangover.
As he took another sip of his martini, Lee though back on Combot's unusual programming. He's not oblivious to the potential of the robot gaining some form of self-awareness. It was installed with a highly advanced programming computer after all. But the realization is still unnerving not because of the well-known belief that synthetic life would rule all of the Earth with humans being slaves or worse, or whatever those old movies show, but because what Lee saw in those glowing red eyes. Combot may have experienced fear. Fear of dying.
And considering the gruesome oil spills and violent twitches, Combot must have experienced pain that cannot be fathomed.
That thought continues to haunt Lee, who is now wishing he could have the luxury of drowning himself in a stupor.
However, his mind is merciful or merciless enough to trail towards last night and the enchantments it had bestowed on him. Lee couldn't get Anna out of his head. He keeps thinking about her bright smile, her laugh, her voice, her scent. It's all intoxicating for Lee. But it does not take long for rapture to degrade into despair. He'll never forget the cruel rejection he cursed her with last night before.
Several fish in the sea. At least a small quarter of them are better than me. Besides, she's too young. No, I'm much older. Would she really fancy the hair in the long run anyway? I mean I find it unique, but that would be an argument we would have. And I would be just be...
"Dammit..." Lee mutters from his clueless overthinking. Was he really saving Anna the trouble of a potentially dull life, or is it just some excuse? What if it's both? In the end, for Lee, it didn't matter. What's done is done and there's nothing he could do to fix what he did. "What's that old saying? 'Reap what you sow?'"
I'm sorry, Anna...
"I believe that's the correct phrase."
Lee becomes petrified from that familiar voice in a low alluring purr. He jolts his body to his right and his eyes grew wide and his mouth slightly drops. In a vibrant shoulderless red dress with an elegant crane on the bottom, matching shoes and gloves, elegant floral tights, shinning brown hair, ocean blue eyes, and deep rose lips, this breathtaking woman with a familiar face may as well have stopped Lee's heart from beating.
She looks at him with a mysterious stare crosses her slender legs sipping her glass before she speaks. "Hello, Mr. Lee." Anna's voice is surprisingly neutral and soft.
Gaining control of the ability to speak, all Lee could muster from his tightened throat is, "Anna..."
Soo... how is this all going to play down with Lee and Anna now? :P
Please review do not hesitate to tell me what you think. :)
Thank you again and more is on the way!