** The next morning, Underground complex, somewhere in the Middle East **

He paces through the corridor, heels of brown leather boots tapping lightly against the delicate marble which the floor beneath his feet consists of. His eyes fix forward, his chin held high and face playing a calm and calculating expression, a short mane of white hair lying neatly upon his head.

He is wearing a bright grey business suit, perfectly fitting is athletic and muscular body, looking formal and impressive. A pair of oval black sunglasses lay on the bridge of his nose, concealing his eyes as he covers ground quickly, his footsteps wide due to his long legs, his height from head to toe an impressive 6’6.

As he walks through the long maze of corridors, doors and small rooms, he is greeted by many a people, each bowing their head, lowering their gaze and saying humbly “Mr. President…”, greeting him in a respected, hushed manner which pleases him.

A smile plays onto his lips, loving the reverence in which he is treated, loving the sense of honor and respect that even a mere gaze from him forces out of his minion. The notion of the power and sway over these men at times intoxicating, a thing to die for, if only he wasn’t blocked from supremacy by that arrogant fool, the one who thinks he knows anything, why didn’t he just die and stay dead he wonders and sighs lightly as he reaches a large roman shaped arc.

Two guards, each of them in a green-black and brown commando outfit and brandishing a Kalashnikov rifle salute and step aside as he pushes double doors of thick steel open, the effort minute to his superior physical strength, crossing into the room. The door shuts slowly behind him as the two men on the pull the door back to their previous, closed position.

The room is large, many ornaments of ancient Egyptian origin decorating it, made of gold, silver and bronze, all clean and kept as if new, glittering with beauty that catches the eye. In the center of the room a huge throne of black marble, upon which a towering, by its outline, muscular figure sits, shroud in semi darkness and all but its towering size and masculinity hidden.

“Welcome back, oh mighty one, how’re you Mr. President?” A voice asks from the depths of the room, sheer amusement, and sarcasm oozing from the words as laughter follows, deep, and rolling it quickly fills the room with its silky sound.

“I find nothing amusing with this title given to this impotent little title you’ve given me, Oh exalted “Emperor”,” he snarls impatiently and turns his back to the center of the room, glaring at the wall, not wanting to give this pompous b*stard the satisfaction of seeing his discontent.

“I was expecting more of welcome from you, after all at least they don’t treat you as their equal. Regardless to how you and they are equally pathetic in my eyes thus far. Even so your recent actions might prove somewhat useful although I do not approve the blemish you’ve put on my forces and my reputation with your retreat into the shadows;” The man says, his voice shifting to a piercing one, the insult quite clear and painful by his tone.

“You bumbling fool! What did you expect me to do!? Gather our forces, stand up, and proceed to “fight” with a reunified and fully potent Shadowlaw! Are you out of your mind?” The man asks angrily, gritting his teeth some and holding spinning toward the man sitting on the throne.

“I was expecting you to proceed with the protocol, I was expecting you to not neglect my work and let all I built in the last 5 years crumble into dust. I was expecting you not to let Shadowlaw reign supreme over the underworld and use my forces a buffer so we could salvage some of our allies. I was expecting you not to let my forces be left virtually alone against a web of Shadowlaw controlled organizations as we are now! But It seems I was expecting too much from YOU…” the figure on the throne speaks calmly, ending with a sarcastic and irony full jibe, all throughout also emphasizing the word “you”, to stab the failure’s sting deep into the standing man’s heart and twist it viciously to intensify the effect.

“Oh that’s fair, Let me just retell the facts as they truly are, just to disillusion you, from your ego trip and spur of blames upon our forces. The facts are that you were the one who devised that stupid tournament idea that allowed Agent Xiang to hunt our agents down and for Shadowlaw to gain intelligence information on our operations, you are the one that led them to be able to leave irreversible damage to our infrastructure.” He begins and smirks at the man and looks at him with ridicule.

“All this because you in your arrogance, pride and downright stupidity walked right onto the landmine the senior Bison stepped on 3 years go, ignoring all the warnings of our advisors, getting yourself both mutilated and humiliated. Then in your lowest moment, alone and forgotten, you come blaming me and our armies for not being able to handle the series of blundering errors you yourself created…showing yourself it even more of a worthless, weak and pathetic light” he says and points at him accusingly.

“Well I have a newsflash for you, you failed our armies, you failed our goals, you let our work crumble and you are the one who forced our minions to build everything from the ruins you left them in. Thus it is time you embrace the truth as it is: You’re the catalyst of our forces’ falling from grace and power…” he finishes with a smug look.

“Interesting speech, I have only one correction, something that bugs me by it’s repetitive manner, my poor, ungifted, naïve little brother…” The man says, and from the darkness, two ovals of golden fire banish the light around the man and reveal his handsome face.

The man stands and then a roar is heard as f lames burst forth from his body and surrounding him, licking at his skin and dancing around him. His body bathed by light and the sign of superior power obvious, a warning and reminder to the man who had insulted him before who he stands, and just how he should treat him. He controls the force of nature with aggravating ease, lifts one open hand, and points it at the man who stands at the feet of his imperial throne.

“The is no our army, there is no our work, there is no our advisors, there is no our at all! I am the sovereign and father of this entire organization Urien, I, Gill, am the brotherhood’s heart and it’s salvation and YOU will bow before me and give me my well deserved respect, or you will burn in the flames which I was born to govern over!” He says in a commanding and power-full voice and Urien, screams as he bathes in a stream of flames that are sent forth from his open palm.

“Or if you prefer, freeze in the icy terrors that only I manipulate at well, my little, insignificant little brother!” he says and the flames die out just as he shoots out sharp shards of ice from his other hand that he throws forth.

The long blades of ice pierce Urien’s shoulder, between the bones, cleaving flesh and and piercing skin easily, but not too deeply as Gill still needed him, leaving him partially damaged, not too much, and pinned to the wall, suspended a foot or two above the floor.

** Briefing room, Coastal Military base, Southern US area, **

Chunli and Cammy are seated beside a long rectangular table, both of them summoned by their respective high command to get yet another dosage of bad news, this time supposedly bigger than anything they’ve ever had to deal with before.

Chunli leans over next to Cammy and whispers “I wonder what’s so important that they dragged representatives of many other intelligence cores like the Shabach, Mossad, CIA, FBI, Delta red, French secret services and many others of the Atlantic alliance countries and more.

Cammy shrugs “Whatever it is must be really big…” She whispers and rubs her left temple with two fingers “I hope this isn’t another around the clocker, I really could use a good night’s sleep after that crappy ride her on that hunk of junk that’s supposedly a boat…” she says, muttering quietly about not getting any privileges in her job.

Chunli snickers lightly and pats her shoulder gently “Well it could’ve been worse, least you didn’t drive here, like some of the less connected people” she says and smirks, Cammy huffs and scowls at her “I hate it when you do that” all over her flat look.

Chunli and Cammy find themselves shutting up as someone kills the light and the room falls into pitch-black darkness, and a large white screen lights up in the far wall of the room, causing all the room’s inhabitants to look on at what’s obviously a short, video edited review of the problem.

The screen shits to the emblem of Shadowlaw, “As you all know, 3 years ago, M.Bison was eliminated by the psychic woman known to us all by the alias of Rose. The same Rose whose whereabouts have been lost for the last 2 years;” small pictures being enlarged on the screen, those of Bison, Rose then a purple flash then both pictures vanish.

“One year after Bison’s death, a extreme change in the face of the global crime rings, With Shadowlaw’s fall, most went freelance and thrived individually, all except one, the mysterious disappearance of the one known to us as Gill, has almost broken down the Brotherhood…”

Pictures of the globe being shown, and the continents lighting up, with names of large crime organizations like the Yakuza, Chinese, Russian, Italian mafias joined by those of Terror organizations like Hezbollah, Hamas, Al Qaida, Abu Sayaf and more showing how divided the illegal world has become.

“Over the last 2 weeks we’ve gather unmistakable intelligence information that shows signs of an increasingly worrying process. The underground circles are becoming restless…suicide bombers prepped to be sent on a daily basis, resistance movements are arming themselves. It would seem the crime organizations are rearranging their infrastructure and formulating plans as well, banks and factory plans are being stolen off the net and in the special saves of these companies, thievery and drug dealing are near an all high peak as more drugs are flooding the world...” it speaks.

”Never has such a wide scale flood of warnings been received by all intelligence cores around the world, even the old Shadowlaw days in which they called the play were not nearly as bad as what seems to be knocking at our door,” it adds. Then it shows a flashing picture of Bison being shattered and flashing pictures of crime and terror leaders toppling over one another.

“Furthermore, we have dark news regarding Shadowlaw who also leaves a big question mark as we’re not sure how much or if they’re responsible for any worldwide crime and terror, we know near nothing about them, but It would seem we’ve finally cracked the mystery around who leads it…”

“…The mysterious code name given to us by the underworld criminals, X, is rumored to be the first letter of the name of Bison’s heir, Xavier Bison, psychic, tyrant and seemingly not falling from his father in intelligence and tactical planning.” It speaks, and a shadowy picture of a silhouette with purple eyes is seen on the screen.

“Only this time, he has learned from Bison’s mistake and kept to the shadows and is being unbelievable secretive and working in subtle and cunning ways, which make our job a hundredfold harder than with Bison Senior. Also, without the balancing force of the Brotherhood it seems the influence of the “Neo Shadowlaw” as we’ve dubbed it, has a much larger potential to be a threat to world stability than in M.Bison’s days, and we fear what they might unveil when they do choose to step out of the shadows.” It adds and shows a shadowy Shadowlaw emblem with purple glowing eyes.

In addition to all this trouble all our attempts to stop or even learn about them have failed. We don’t know how large they are, how much money they have, what’s their full power, and most importantly what they’re up to. To our further misfortune his new lead we’ve got is not helpful as well as no formal documentation of this Xavier exist and all our speculations over his location have turned out useless,” it speaks and shows how all arrow pointing at the emblem are devoured by it

“Even worse is the fact our attempts on gaining any knowledge on its leaders, command system and infrastructure are taxing to our organizations and to our reputation. All the people we’ve promised protection and money too, every snitch and traitor or just person we’ve captured has been murdered, sometimes alone, sometimes with our interrogation teams…in most cases extremely brutally” the voice repeats and shows various pictures of dead bodies who were killed in various ways, strangulation, shattered skull, shot, imploded from within outwardly and more.

“We don’t have to tell you the events of what is in store for us all. Dozens of terror bombings, wide scale crime waves, theft in huge amounts, havoc and chaos will hit the streets of the world and it might force the governments of the world to declare martial law to keep security in the streets. This outcome we cannot allow to happen, we have to fight it before it’s too late, and that is where you come in…” the tape continues.

Chunli eyes darken, as she is sure dark times are ahead, Cammy’s lips purse in a calm and contemplative manner, inwardly wondering how such a wide range project was overseen and monitored so efficiently and just how it is possible that thwarting attempts have failed so miserably.

“What we ask of you is to share all your resources and data with one another, the time of differences has ended, this wave may drag tragic results if it is left to rampage freely. Your superiors all fear the same outcome, the fall of democracy worldwide due to the losing of faith in the government, economy and military, you will all be given separate assignments outside…Godspeed and good luck to you all” it ends and lights return.

Cammy and Chunli get up and leave silently, Chunli drags Cammy to a secluded corner “There’s more to this that it seems Cammy, I have a feeling our troubles run deeper than this…Somehow this whole wave of global crime and terror seems suspicious…it’s a cover up for something if you ask me,” she whispers,

Cammy nods and looks solemnly at her friend “Even if so, we have no leads or idea what that might be, Ibuki’s interrogation was useless. She didn’t have any information except who rules the new Shadowlaw, and the only that does is make us wet our pants more in apprehension of the conflict with him,” she says with a shudder and gulp. “We…we can’t let a Bison win over us, but on the other hand we have to proceed to protect the people of the world, we can’t let innocents die by not acting” She says.,

Chunli nods and gulps, she decides to recruit her allies amongst the streets, they could as well be a valuable tool to help in the fight against the lower organizations, biding Cammy goodbye and deciding to call Ken Masters first.

** Dark room, somewhere in the South-Western US **

She groans and moans lightly in pain, her head pounding hard, limbs heavy and physical strength unusually weak, she opens one eye slowly, able only to open a small slit of her eyebrow, dreading any bright light.

When her pupil dilating to welcome the darkness of the room, slowly opening her other eye as well and looking around the room, The room is small, and she’s lying on the lower bed of a bunk type, 2 story bed.

The light is scarce and perhaps it is a figment of her imagination, but she can sweat she sees bars on the wall of the room and maybe some kind of chair in one of the corners of the room, she finds this odd but by the throbbing pain in her ears and headache make her brush it aside.

She then exhales heavily, and tries to move and finds her body sending sharp pain and grimaces heavily, her memory regarding how she got here clouded. Her eyes narrow in confusion and brows furrowing as she scowls at her own weakness and blurry memory.

She remembers only bits and pieces of the last few days. She recalls lots of pain, darkness contrasted to a bright, blinding white light, and then cut off and distorted voices speaking things she doesn’t understand completely as it’s fuzzy and cut out.

She remembers seeing blurry shapes, of many faces, and one that is vaguely familiar, but she can’t pinpoint from where. She also remembers being asked a wide variety questions no doubt, but is unable to remember if she did or didn’t answer them, or if she did, what the content of her answers was over them.

She lifts one hand to lie on her forehead “I guess I should know what that means…I’ve seen prisoners of Geki’s act the same,” she says to herself quietly and sighs lightly. “I was drugged so I don’t resist the questioning,” she concludes and shakes her head lightly, quickly regretting that action as she winces at a bundle of pain that is exerted by her movements.

“D*mnit…” she mutters as she runs her fingers over her abdomen, “I think…I’ve busted a rib or two…from those d*mn Batons…godd*mned cops!” she coughs out weakly. She then moves to inspect the damage dealt to her body, knowing it’s probably extensive as she was pushing hard against her body in that momentary adrenaline rush.

She dreads the pain she knows those blows probably left, and the wounds she’ll be witnesses for a while as well, she doesn’t know the full extent thus she begins running her fingers slowly down her body, with a contemplative look on her face.

She runs her fingers over her upper body and winces and scowls angrily as she detects what are most likely blue bruises, wincing more as she finds burn and marks from the shock sticks’ vicious touch.

She finishes and sighs, idly stroking the area of her belly, and then she abruptly pauses and runs her fingers slowly over her abdomen, grabbing some of the fabric and feeling it between her fingers of what she’s wearing. The cloth thick and rugged slightly, looking down and blinking in surprise as she sees its color and realizes what attire it is in alarm.

“What the f**k?!” she think and sits up quickly, wincing hard as she bangs her head onto a metal surface over her and falls back, “OW!” she says and rubs a new bruise that’ll form on her forehead. She then hears a murmur from above and a lazy voice whispering “Will knock it off, it’s the middle of the night…” a female voice speaks before a “huh?” is heard and a head peeks down from above.

“Hey! You’re finally awake…” the voice speaks once more and Ibuki looks at the familiar face with only once eye, the other shut in her wince as he still rubs the small bump that is developing on her forehead

“Mei? What are you doing here? And where the h*ll is here?!” Ibuki shoots a string of questions, while grimacing and shutting her eyes as she sits up some, coughing once and looking at her cousin, with a curious glint in her one, partially open eyes, within the pained expression.

Mei frowns at her before sighing “Well, we’re cell mates it seems, in a maximum security prison within the borders of the US; don’t know where exactly, somewhere in the Desert of Nevada, I think…” She says in a small quiet tone.

Ibuki’s eyes widen, then turn normal “But…I wasn’t trialed and I…hey, wait a min, if you’re here, where’s Hwang?” she asks, knowing by rumor and meeting the two are inseparable. She winces inwardly as she sees pain reaching Mei’s face and her eyes moist as she grits her teeth.

“Jason…shot Hwang, X ordered him to kill only one of us…so the other suffers…and let us live our lives in regret for the mere sin of helping those bastards…” she says angrily and then sniffles once, licking her lip and gulping.

“Then when I tried to kill him, he simply brushed me off like a fly and knocked me out…then I woke up here…2 days ago. You were here too, you’ve been dragged in and out of the cell several times, sometimes unconscious, sometimes drugged, I think they’ve been milking you for info, knowing you wouldn’t cooperate consciously…but thus far they seem frustrated…mumbling something about you being brainwashed or memory wiped…” Mei says and lies back down on the upper bed.

Ibuki’s eyes soften, “I’m sorry…,” she says, falling quiet and lying down, sighing heavily, “Looks like we’ve both been screwed by Shadowlaw…” she comments the obvious and shuts her eyes “Umm…Mei, I know It’s not much…but if we ever get out of here, I’d be glad to have your help on taking X down…or least trying…” Ibuki says and looks up as If to speak to Mei.

Mei sniffles and smiles lightly to herself “Ya know…that doesn’t sound half bad…I wouldn’t mind ringing that b*stard’s neck, and I doubt I could alone…so…I guess you got a deal…” she says and sighs heavily. “By the way, seems like we’ll be spending a lot of time together…looks like we better catch up on old times, will give us something to do…” Mei says.

Ibuki chuckles faintly “Yeah…we could spar and exchange tactics when we’re in the courtyard too” Mei says, “The gals there are supposedly tough, but I’m sure we’ll manage” Mei says and chuckles, Ibuki grins at that and chuckles as well.

Thus, Irony or fate seems to have brought these two long lost cousins together, considering the circumstances of their 2nd meeting and seemingly long time in one another’s presence, perhaps the two might find solace in one another’s presence, and perhaps by joining forces, they can together do what they cannot individually.

** Back at the Brotherhood complex **

Gill steps down from the throne, walks over to the wall-pinned Urien, and clasps his fingers around his neck, choking him “If you ever…even ponder belittling me again, the reminder of your place, status and power will be a hundredfold more painful. You pathetic weakling, thinking you’re actually important, hah, you’re lucky we’re bonded by blood or you’d be a nothing but a pile of ashes right now…” he says and pulls him out of the wall painfully, to which Urien grits his teeth, a pained scream quenched by his clamped jaw.

“The one good deed that’s keeping you from being hospitalized right now is the fact you salvaged those venom blades parts that I turned out finding. The one you as well knew Xavier needed desperately, the same parts you were supposed to should have been seeking for months now. But as usual you’re stupidity blocks any thought processes you might have in your empty skull, *disgust grunt* you disgust me, get out my sight you wretch,” Gill says and throws Urien across the room, his body hitting the floor hard and him left slumped near the door.

Urien coughs and rises to his feet slowly, gritting his teeth against the pain of his now semi burned skin and some gashes and wounds from the ice shards, blood pouring over his torn and singed clothing. He eyes Gill’s back with hatred, contempt, bitterness and rage and pulls the door open violently, storming off into the hall ”You’ll pay for this Gill…you’re time will come…I swear by God, your time will come...I will have my revenge for these insults…soon.. Urien vows to himself as he walks off slowly into the depths of the last bastion of the Brotherhood, their underground complex underneath Cairo.

Gill hmphs as his brother storms out and sits back at his throne, chuckling to himself as he folds his hands over his chin, gazing into space. Reminiscing over what happened to him almost two years ago. He had been talking to the world warrior Ryu prior to a finals battle of the third Street Fighter tournament he had sponsored.

He was planning on abducting a wounded and bleeding World warrior, his powers of pyro and cryokinetic control a key factor in this, he had no doubt it wouldn’t be easy, but he had a secret weapon that was his key of crushing the world warrior where all other had failed: he was immortal.

Well, partially, as long as his body was whole, his powers would not let his soul be parted from his body, and thus he would heal and revive over time. The raging demon Akuma had brought him to the brink of death, but even his instant hell murder technique or better known as the Shun Goku Satsu was not enough to kill the Godling known as Gill.

The setback had caused him to be in a state of comma for a very long time, the evil energies polluting his body, supplementary of Akuma’s evil intent slowing down his natural healing powers and causing him to be all but a vegetable for a whole 6 months.

He had ordered the one part of his minions he trusted, for he had created him and bonded him to his well, the shape shifter known as Twelve, to recover him should he lose. This white skinned being took him to a safe house he had prepared for such a turn of events, there he guarded over Gill’s lifeless body until he awoke from his forced sleep and learned the ghastly truths of his new reality.

The world was changing, with his absence Urien took over the Brotherhood and worked on licking the wounds left by Interpol and Shadowlaw in his own absence. Over 50% of their subordinates were gone and were either jailed or were converted to the Shadowlaw cause easily, most of his allies in the streets abandoned his cause, with his death they didn’t trust or believe in Urien’s power or capability and they bet on the winning horse so to say, Xavier Bison’s new Shadowlaw.

Moreover their influence had died down, they were no longer feared for Shadowlaw became a much larger menace, all of the gains he had made over the year between M.Bison’s fall and Xavier’s ascension to power were lost, and all because of his incapable brother and an overly convenient appearance by the raging demon.

His plan was perfect, with Ryu, or any other champion of the tournament, one who would have immense capabilities and power, within his possession, he could genetically experiment on him and exact information used to create super soldiers of a more dangerous caliber then Twelve’s breed. However, his work was for naught, and he was left to retake the reigns of the Brotherhood and try to rebuild it.

He managed to gain some of his old power, but it was too late, he was gone for too long and Xavier moved into his place all too fast. The psychic tyrant has inserted fear and loyalty based on funds Gill could only dream of equaling, the new infrastructure of the Shadowlaw organization much more widespread and efficient than in the old Bison’s time.

But he had hope yet, a gamble that he was investing a large portion of his remaining resources on, one last chance to regain enough power to resume his plans. Should all he is planning be executed on the spot, he could ally himself momentarily with the law enforcement organizations and share his intelligence and resources and manpower with them, they would in turn take any help he has to offer to stop Shadowlaw’s mad rampage and rise to power.

He will help them bite into Shadowlaw’s power bit by bit until the giant was toppled once more, then he could resume his original plans. He would even volunteer to fight the psychic lord himself, for he had no obligations of wringing the neck of the arrogant little prick, the one who had ruined him.

He had learned, more like, had was informed by first hand, in a video conversation with the psychic himself, that he had “helped” Akuma find Ryu, and had “influenced” his choice of actions. Akuma’s guided interference causing the fall from grace of Gill’s organization, boasting the only reason Gill lives is because X wants him to behold him rule the world that Gill had claimed bids over before Bison senior once, and he had gotten close, so close.

He smirks and grins to himself, for he has confidence that his plan would work, because this time he had something X wasn’t expecting at his advantage, he had one of his precious venom blade parts, and by the technical output the late doctor printed, a very important one with that.

It would put a wrench in the warlord’s plan and allow Gill to buy some time to regain more of his power. Most importantly, when all goes according to his plans, he would also knock out one of his most important tools in his vying for world domination, the Cyborg commando, Jason.

He knew defeating him would be no easy job and he couldn’t spare the time to deal with it himself, so in his tight corner he decided recently to purchase a quite interesting weapon from an organization who owed him big time. They owed him, for he had been one of their main investors, owing a large portion of their stock, for quite a few years now, funneling immense amounts of money to keep them alive in their difficult times.

He wasn’t sure this weapon, or assassin, or whatever he had bought would work perfectly, but he hadn’t an alternative, and this bio-genetic mutation, was supposedly the highest species within a large variety of the brood they had created in their sick and demented little chemical and biological experimentation.

Moreover, if it wouldn’t, those paper pusher scientists would feel his wrath. He had secretly mapped all their bases and gained copies of all their data, if they would fail him in this time of need, he would go to the press, and they’d be finished when he will also pull back the funds from them, now when they needed him more then ever.

His money was their lifeline, and if the wide public knew the truth of what they’ve done purposefully, they would have more than just financial troubles for worry over. Now was the time they give him some results for his investment, and if it would please him enough, he would be pleased with them, and also take care of their little financial problems and purchase more of these weapons they have been trying to sell him in vain for years now.

His time was at hand, all was going just according to plan thus far, now all he needed to do, was bide his time, pull the right strings, pray a bit and watch as things unfold.

** Evening, Street of Seattle, USA **

He walks the streets quietly; he is on mission, assassination mission with that. His lord Xavier was quite intent of removing a both financial and combative obstacle from his path, thus he send his most talented Assassin, him, Jason, to remove this obstacle.

The plan was simple enough, he’d approach the Masters residence and rig the limousine, wait on a nearby bench and eat a chilidog and read a newspaper, and when he’d see the eagle has landed, he’d click one little button and finish it, and then lower suspicions by being the one to alert the ambulances.

It was as simple as that, he was sure that there was more to X’s plan for this man’s assassination than just removing this man, he could feel there was a personal motive to it, or perhaps even more. He could only assume because like a good poker player, X never showed any indication of what was his hand, or in this case, his intent, and you’d only know, after than hand was shown, just what it was, or in this case, what was on his mind when he order this action.

He is wearing casual clothing to further lower his suspicious look, even resorting to contact lenses he asked the Shadowlaw scientists to make him, to not look suspicious, and mingle within the crowd better and hefts a normal, one strap backpack, as he walks.

A pair Blue jeans, a Seattle Supersonics T-Shirt, some Nike sneakers and cap are enough a guise to seem like a local resident. He looks around him as he walks, something odd was amiss, he couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but he had the impeccable sense that he was being followed, watched, or perhaps both.

Yet, he had stopped and waited to see, if there was someone following him, took side streets to see if someone was following him, but he’d came out with nothing, this was beginning to creep him out. He was half-mechanical, surely his infra red sensors would’ve picked up anyone following him, but he hasn’t seen anyone, or anything.

The mansion comes into view soon enough and he turns suddenly, hearing something and narrowing his eyes, he looks around carefully, his contacts concealing how his pupils glow some as his infrared sensors scan the area, yet it is for naught.

“D*mnit…I’m losing it…” he mutters and licks his lower lip “That’s it…so much stress due to working too hard, I’m imaging things, and making up invisible foes. Bah! I need to rest after I whack Ken…” he whispers to himself and walks over to the mansion, looking at the huge walls, large steel gate and rubs his chin, a contemplative look on his face.

He grins and kneels, preparing to use his superior strength and synthetic muscles to enable him to leap over the 15-foot tall wall. However, just as he is about to leap he hears footsteps behind him and pauses, standing up slowly and turning his gaze halfway as they stop.

A man is standing there, a foot or two behind him, facing him from close quarters, he’s around 6’2, his build tall and thin, his face shroud semi illuminated, eyes hidden by a hood he’s wearing, not looking at Jason directly, while motionlessly standing, tilting his head sideways. Jason’s curiosity rises, as he turns fully to this man.

Jason eyes him calmly, both of them locking eyes with a cold, dark look, standing motionless, as only the faint sounds of the suburban part of the city, several miles away banishes complete silence. Jason asks him of his will with the gesture of quirking his brow. The weird man only bows low, lowering his gaze before lifting it and Jason sees a glint of green as it throws both fists forth, with immense speed.

So fast is the speed of the strike, that Jason’s swatting motion doesn’t reach it in time, the man’s action not being registered in time to be defended against and Jason grunts upon impact. Jason’s eyes widen a bit in surprise as it connects painfully hard, and hits straight in the center of his chest, the force behind the blow unbelievable, it able to send him hurtling back a good few feet, knocking him off his feet.

Jason lands on his back and slides a few feet, he shakes his head and turns to his front side, seeing the weird man growls and runs toward him while pulling his fist back. Jason crawls to his feet and scowls at the man, then he realizes just how fast the little b*stard is at he barely dodges a punch directed at him.

“Crafty little thing aren’t you?” he asks and swats a pair of punches that are directed to his midsection and sidesteps as the man swipes his open hand at him, aiming to slash him with his fingers. Jason finds this tactic baffling and snickers lightly, “Odd fighting style,” he muses as the man lunges at him, attempting to tackle him.

Jason commends the jump, that’s quite accurate mimicking of an animalistic pounce, his foot rising with a lashing whip like kick that rises to accommodate the airborne assailant, sending him hurting back, Jason’s physical power packing quite a punch.

Jason smirks before looking shocked as the man lands on his legs and hands and crouches, glaring at him, his eyes glowing in green and him baring his teeth at him, the teeth noticeably sharp, and quite inhuman in shape.

“What the hell is that thing?” he wonders as his sensors scan finds no mechanical parts within it, nor do the infrared rays show anything out of the ordinary. All technical aspects in his disposal pinpoint that man to be indeed human, but it’d be a crime against the human species to say that freakish thing is human, as he notices now, the thing’s skin is shuddering and shifting oddly on his hands and face.

The thing bursts forth and growls, lines of long sharp teeth gleaming at him in pearly white malicious hunger as the thing propels itself into the air and dives at him while slashing it’s hand at him once more, and now Jason understands why, the bloody thing had talons procuring from it’s fingertips.

“Bloody hell!” Jason says and leaps over the thing; barely moving in time as the thing lands behind, it rises to its feet and spins around, while throwing its hands forward. Jason barely turns around in time to see the hands the wrap around his neck and lifts him off his feet effortlessly.

Jason grabs the things wrists and squeezes hard, utilizing all the strength at his disposal, he hears bones creaking and cracking and hears a feral, animalistic howls of pain mingled with insect like furious clicking sounds escaping this thing’s throat as it turns around and hurtles him like a rag doll.

Jason shuts his eyes and braces for impact that isn’t late to come as he collides with the thick brick wall of the Masters mansion, being forced through it and rolling a few times on the grass behind it. Jason shakes his head and looks up, seeing the thing leaping onto the wall and peering down at him with hungry green eyes.

Jason’s eyes narrow, his contact’s miraculously not lost, glaring with impatience and rage at this insolent man-creature as he rises to his feet “Ok you ugly little freak show on two, no more mister nice Jason…” he says and reaches for his gun. He procures it, the silver shaft of the Magnum gleaming in the moonlight as Jason grins with perverse glee and pulls the trigger.

A audible bang fills the night air, then to Jason’s surprise the sound of the bullet ricocheting off the wall is heart, as the thing leaps impossible out of the way and lands on the grass a few feet away from him, crouching low in a menacing manner.

Jason curses, as he knows attention has been arisen, but he had bigger problems than that now, mainly getting rid of this second rated horror movie monster reject, he levels his gun at the beast and activates his motion sensors and glares into the beasts horrid green eyes just as it lunges.

Jason fires, but the thing leaps over his line of fire and pounces at him. Jason snarls at this, turning his body sideways while swinging his foot forward just as the Beast lands on its hands and legs, hitting in dead on in the kisser.

The blow is absorbed by the beast as it reels back while a pained sound escapes its throat, yet it’s hand lashes out and hits Jason’s face abdomen, forcing him back and making him bend over.

“D*mn…this thing is strong…” he mutters as he looks up and sees the beast dashing at him, his hand clenches into a tightly held fist as he spreads his legs slightly and prepares himself. But just before the beast reaches him a blinding blue