STORM RISING (Climax)

1

Azazel ascended to the skies above Brockton Bay, his enormous silhouette framed by storm clouds, his arrival heralded by infernal trumpets resounding throughout the city. It was the reception he deserved, though he wasn't used to such a swift reaction to his arrival; it was as if he was known, almost, despite not even being from this world.

He also wasn't used to not knowing, but despite this being the first time in millennia that he didn't know something, the answer didn't bother him. It wouldn't change what he was here to do. What he was already doing.

His influence spread across the city, making people reveal their true faces.

Human beings hid their true selves under countless layers of lies. His job was to peel them away so they could unleash their ugliness. That was all.

He wasn't responsible for their actions. He simply allowed them to do what they wanted, what they had always wanted. Although, of course, it wasn't an act of kindness. Quite the opposite.

It was what they deserved. To endure themselves without the layers of lies that allowed the world to function like a Swiss watch.

Or rather, society.

Human society marched on smoothly, the world was dying, and no one cared. Sure, they could make some symbolic gestures to feel like better people, but in the end, if it didn't concern them, it wasn't their problem.

Voluntarily and selfishly, they had reduced the world to shreds. Now the sinners must atone in the only possible way, death.

Azazel spread his wings and his enormous arms as if to encompass all of Brockton Bay. His shadow, elongated by the afternoon sun, covered most of the city.

Perhaps they thought they were prepared for him, unlike the response Azazel was accustomed to (if it could be said he was accustomed to anything when he had been sealed for what was now the majority of his existence), that is, humans running around like headless chickens, looking for places to hide and covering their eyes because they preferred to believe they were simply living a nightmare.

But he would show them they weren't prepared, that they were nothing but presumptuous fools.

The storm that was rising would leave nothing standing in its wake.

2

Kazuya woke up the way he usually did when things went wrong.

With a start, gritting his teeth and roaring like a caged animal. Which he was, by the way. Quite the animal, and caged.

"I felt a bit bad, throwing him in a cell as soon as he was healed," said some guy, talking as if Kazuya wasn't right there. He wasn't alone; there were several people, each with a more ridiculous costume than the last. "But Piggot was right. He was ready to kill even before he realized he was locked up."

"Do you think these bars will hold me?" Kazuya asked, laughing in his face.

"They're not just bars, but no. We don't want to keep you locked up. We want your help."

"Funny way to show it."

"Well, if you weren't in there, maybe my guts would be painting the wall right now, so…"

"Dauntless." That wasn't even a name, just a word, and he didn't seem very dauntless anyway. Seemed more like he was full of arrogance. And stupidity. "That's enough."

The one who spoke was a woman dressed like a soldier, except for the mask covering half her face, making her look more like a petty thief, especially since it had the pattern of the United States flag.

Every time he saw an American, Kazuya couldn't help but think of Paul.

To him, he was the quintessential American. Loud, stupid, and very arrogant.

That woman wasn't a very good American based on those criteria. Her voice was determined but soft.

"Reviewing footage from nearby cameras, we saw a monster emerging from inside you. We immediately sounded the air raid sirens, assuming it could be a new Endbringer. It seems to be like the Simurgh, judging by the strange incidents that started happening throughout the city. People losing control, crossing the line. We want your help to deal with that beast, which for now is codenamed…"

"Azazel."

The woman frowned.

"Wait, you mean…?"

"You seem to think it was born then, but it's been bothering me for a while."

"Yeah, it just emerged from your body, leaving you in pieces. A small nuisance, nothing more," said a man dressed all in red.

He thought he was funny, huh?

The woman beside him didn't find it funny either, responding by elbowing him to shut him up. She must have seen what Kazuya was capable of, and had the sense to realize that Kazuya was simply playing along for fun, nothing more.

If he wanted to break free, he would have already done it.

If he wanted to go through them, literally and figuratively, he would have already done it. He was playing with fire. With a goddamn forest fire.

"Assault," said the American woman. He had considered the possibility that she wasn't, but why else would she put the country's flag all over her face? Maybe it was something Kazuya, who had renounced his nationality, couldn't understand. "I told you to stay quiet." She sighed deeply. "As I was saying, I'm glad to hear that. It probably isn't a new Endbringer, then."

"I don't know what you're talking about, but I'm sure it's more dangerous than those Endbringers."

"That's impossible," Dauntless said.

"Neither I nor that thing are from this world. Don't give me that dumb look," Kazuya said. Yes, the helmet he wore allowed him to see enough to judge his expression. "While I was unconscious, you must have searched all the records, checked that I don't exist. In this world, at least."

"People can disappear off the map without being from another world," the female soldier said. "But I understand, that explains a lot. Now…"

Kazuya kicked the bars, which went flying over the heads of those present and crashed into a wall. They would have taken more than one person out if they hadn't reacted quickly, ducking down.

"Kazuya. My name is Kazuya Mishima. So much talk about cooperation, and you didn't even ask my name. You're not very good at this."

The difference between Kazuya and those costumed clowns was that he had no need to fake sincerity. He could do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, however he wanted.

No matter what world he ended up in, some things never changed.

"Give us all the information you have," the woman continued. "For now, the creature isn't attacking… directly, so we have time to formulate a plan."

"Look…"

"Miss Militia."

"That's not a name, but fine. I don't need a plan. And I don't need you. I've been playing along to see what you had to say, but I'm already bored of this charade."

To her credit, the woman didn't look away.

"When this is over, we'll help you return to your world. I can see it in your eyes. You have unfinished business."

Kazuya frowned briefly and then, slowly, nodded. He didn't like giving in to anyone, especially so easily, but he had priorities.

3

Kazuya finished explaining to Miss Militia and the rest (they insisted on introducing themselves, no matter how little he cared, so now he could associate names but not faces with each stupid costume) everything he knew about Azazel.

Not only did cooperating with someone always leave a bad taste in his mouth (his teeth still occasionally ground thinking about the couple of minutes he had fought side by side with Heihachi, even if it was just to stab him in the back), it couldn't be said that it had been worth it as he didn't have much information.

They hoped to come up with a plan based on that information, and with those crumbs, they were left in the same place. But hey, it couldn't be said that Kazuya hadn't fulfilled his part. It wasn't his fault they had miscalibrated their expectations.

Miss Militia took it philosophically.

Meanwhile, Armsmaster seemed furious, even though only the lower half of his face was visible.

Which didn't say much.

He had been angry since he entered the room and saw him.

Only he would know why since Kazuya hadn't laid a hand on him. No, Lung had taken care of him before he had to. But that half-man was inferior to him. The fact that he only threw murderous glances and the occasional sarcastic comment was proof of that. So Kazuya wouldn't stoop to answering his provocations.

He had made it clear that if he had something against him, he would fight him at any time, and he hadn't responded. Anyone could see he was like a chihuahua with its tail between its legs, trembling. In other words, all bark and no bite.

Someone contacted Armsmaster before any of those present had a bright idea on how to defeat Azazel (Kazuya had a very simple and direct idea, but for now, he'd play along, all in order to go home and kick Hiehachi's ass). He put a hand next to his helmet, asked a question, and listened. Not for too long. It turned out because forcibly the message was as simple and direct as he would like to handle things.

"The monster has left Brockton Bay," Armsmaster said. He didn't seem relieved at all.

"What does this mean?" Miss Militia asked. Of course, staring at him.

It seemed fair and nothing strange. First of all, Azazel would have only decided to start with this city because it was where Kazuya had ended up for one reason or another. Like, since I'm here anyways, let's go.

But that raised a very important question. What had distracted him? What could have become his top priority? He wanted to answer that question. Kazuya's top priority was to return to his world to kill his greatest enemy and finally achieve peace, perhaps even that elusive thing they called happiness. But it wouldn't hurt to defeat Azazel and absorb his power. He believed his current level of power would be enough for Heihachi, but, well...

Since I'm here anyways, let's go, he thought.

"Kazuya?"

"What are the major organizations...?"

"Could you stop that?" It was formulated as a question, but yelled, it sounded more like an order. And nobody gave him orders. Nobody.

"What are you talking about?"

"Making us understand you while speaking a different language nobody here knows. I'm surprised you're all so calm; it's mental manipulation, no matter what it's for! There's no such thing as harmless mental manipulation!"

"What are you talking about? This is normal. Are you saying in this world, you have to study languages to understand them?"

"Yes!" he replied, banging the table with both fists to give pathetic emphasis to that word.

"Hmm," Kazuya scoffed. "Terribly inefficient."

"Armsmaster, control yourself," Miss Militia said. "We have no reason to think he's hostile, and right now, we have other priorities."

"Hey man, hey," Assault said, patting him on the shoulder to get his attention.

"Don't you start too."

"Seriously, don't embarrass me," Battery said.

"Yeah, sorry, sweetheart, but I have a question that I'm sure is on everyone's mind. Just one question. Then I'll shut up. Don't make that face; I can be quiet."

"Just ask it already," Kazuya said.

"If everyone in your world can understand each other without any problems, then why do you have multiple languages?" Of course, he had explained that the layout of his world was more or less the same as theirs. Except for superpowers, the costumedidiots (well, not as many), and those Endbringers, who seemed overrated. "How did that happen? Instead of a universal language?"

Kazuya considered it for a few seconds.

He soon suffered a terrible headache.

"Shut up."

4

"In short," said Emily Piggot, director of the Protectorate of Brockton Bay, "these are the most likely top priorities of the potential Endbringer from another world, designated Azazel: the Slaughterhouse Nine, The Guild, The Elite... and the Birdcage. Anything to add?"

"If I had anything, I would have said it," Kazuya replied. "I don't work for you; I don't need your permission to speak."

"Such a charming fellow."

5

Dragon was the one who found the answer to that question. Thousands of cameras captured the image of the beast and sent all kinds of robots to intercept it, while sounding the alarm. But she wasn't worried. Even if it was a new Endbringer, it wouldn't be the first time she had repelled an assault on the Birdcage.

One of the largest concentrations of Parahumans on the planet. It was natural that it would be a target for those monsters.

Behemoth had been stopped before reaching it.

The same would happen now, although this Azazel was already much closer than Behemoth had ever been. I didn't think it would have any problem.

Except, well, that one of her mech prototypes was named Azazel. After this, she would have to change its name, because it would be like calling her water-spouting mech Leviathan, and names weren't her strong suit.

But well, it wasn't the time to think about those trivialities.

Many lives depended on her.

Right now, only on her, the cavalry would take time to arrive. They weren't innocent lives, but that didn't make them worth less. They were all people, after all, and they had started out innocent, like anyone else.

STORM RISING (Climax): FIN

Not the actual (anti)climax of this arc. I'm just being lazy and picking chapter names right from the Tekken OST.