December 6, 1999

"So remember that in eighteen sixty-seven, the Canadian Confederation was created, and that by it, the United States found itself not with a colony to the north, but a proper sovereign state. This had several effects. First..."

Jeremy heard a slight grumble from his right, and shot a look to see his wife half-heartedly scrbbling some notes and occasionally giving their teacher death-glares to which the older man seemed utterly impervious. He couldn't totally fault her - the course was incredibly boring, given by a middle-aged man with no tone to his voice. It had been so bad that he had once been able to enter a deep karate trance, revising techniques and tips mentally, and all without attracting the attention of the man.

Yup, it was boring, but necessary. After all, they couldn't make it known to the entire capital city of the state of Montana that two SCD Elites - members of the Twelve, no less, an Air Force major and a bunch of street fighters were in town, searching for clues about a supposed abandoned White Arms base. Although the organisation had little interest in the general area, watch might still be going on around the old structure. Thus the need to be conspicuous.

Even if it meant enduring grueling courses passing as university students.

They hadn't been the only ones doing so. Claudia had taken a litterature class, and told them again and again how frustrating poems could be, which always sent him and Nate on a laughing spree under her mock-glare. Alex had taken wrestling course and stood squarely in his element, although he kept saying that there was little competition for him there. And Area was busy beffudling her fellow students and teacher in a technology class.

Nathan and Guile were the only ones who hadn't boarded. Guile said with a grin that he looked a little old, and that he might attract attention, and so had taken a job as an instructor at the swimming pool. That had floored them for a while, especially when it was learned that the man taught little kids, who all seemed to love him. But then, he HAD had children.

As for Nathan, he'd found himself a cozy little job working at a computer store, and from there had started cobbling some equipement together so subtly no one there knew about it. All together, the six of them had snooped around extensively, searching for clues on the whereabouts of that old base, and so far they had found nothing. To say that they felt frustrated was saying very little.

Guile had pushed to go see this Adam Winters when he had seen that they were getting nowhere, but Cammy and he had convinced him to look around some more. After all, this information had been found by their friend and comrade Mark Culhen, and Jeremy had been saved too many time by the SCD computer master not to trust that there was something to it at least.

"God, I hope this guy chokes." Cammy muttered. He flashed her an amused look.

"Come on, come on." he whispered with a fond smile that he cared little that others would judge it. "We're bettering our minds, expanding the fields of our knowledge, ramifying the borders of our intellect, solidifying our..."

"And I hope YOU choke too for saying that!" she whispered back, but there was no bite to her remark, and her eyes reflected only an hidden laugh.

He was glad her spirit still shone that brightly. But, then, why wouldn't it? She had been out cold when Desmarais had tried to have his way with her, and she'd waken up to know the bastard hadn't done anything before she knew something had happened. The end result was that she had been frightfully angry, whishing to beat the man to nothingness, but that she hadn't felt the blow of the attempt quite as much as he had.

He knew he couldn't have known that it would happen, knew that he'd reacted the only way people would have when shown with such despicable actions. Why, then, did he feel that he had failed once again?

He couldn't fathom it, and it had pushed to asking Guile about it, describing the events and how he felt about them. That had earned him a pensive stare, and there a slow smile.

"Don't worry about it, kid." he'd said good-naturedly "There's nothing wrong with you. Fact is, things are very right. She's your wife, you love her. You want to protect her like she wants to protect you. Thats what couples are for." the last was said a little wistfully, and the man had stared at something unseen with a sad mien, abdruptly ending the whole conversation.

If that was so, then being married could really be a headache. But then again, he reflected, it had been nearly from the first day!

And he'd enjoyed every single minute of it.

The course finally ended, much to their relief, and they were making their way out when suddenly a foot attempted to tangle up his legs. Reflexes honed by years of training and battle took over and he sidestepped the plunge, regaining his footing within a moment. The two guys still seated, who had been looking at him with slightly nasty smiles, gaped as he looked at them coldly. They obviously hadn't expected him to dodge the low shot.

Next to him Cammy glowered, and the promise of pain was evident in her eyes as she looked the two small-time jerks in the eye. "You fellows better get out of my sight now, if you don't want to get bruised."

They were taken aback by the remark. Jeremy could see was that the last thing they expected was for a woman to tell them off so seriously. Then the smile returned to the one who had tried to trip him - a big, dark-haired fellow.

'Oh great.' he thought tiredly 'An older version of Ian.'

The man was decidedly oblivious the the dangerous person he was leering at, and his tone showed it. "Ah, c'mon babe! Just having a little joke, no harm done."

"No thanks to you, airhead." she shot back with a cold smile which never reached her eyes "I've got half a mind to kick your but right here, you cockless little smartass." He knew from her tone that the threat, as light as it was, was genuine. So did the jerk. However, the young SCD knew his wife was more than able to do what she intended - easily. He wouldn't really mind if she did, bullies having always infuriated him in their narrow-mindedness.

The man's face flushed in chauvinist anger, and he started to rise from his place, his other friend only looking out. "Now, look here -" he started in a threatening tone.

He never went farther. Jeremy channeled chi into his arm muscles quickly, then clamped his hand down on the man's shoulder. Normally this this wouldn't have had any sort of great effect, since the bully was larger, if not that muscled. However, the chi added a strength beyond height and musculature, and it was a jerk grunting in pain who was forced to sit back down, gritting his teeth against the painful grasp.

Jeremy put his head forward and smiled frostily, putting on the kind of face he showed to his enemies, to bullies, and to anyone who reminded him of his old cousin Tom in any way. The sheer malevolence of the look worked its charms, for both blanched, speechless, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Leave us alone." he said gently, but with underlying steel in his voice. He received two incredibly enthusiastic nods, and chuckled slightly before letting go of the young fool and walking away. Behind him, he heard a gasp of relief, and it was an effort not to laugh outloud. Sometimes being a street fighter really paid off.

His mood then shifted one hundred and eighty degrees when, as soon as they were a few steps out of the classroom, Cammy stopped and whirled about, glaring at him. So shocked was he that he nearly blundered into her, and he brought himself short.

"Don't protect me." she hissed "I'm not frail or stupid, so don't start thinking I'm just a girl who needs help to take care of nobodies like those!"

He gaped. This was completely out of the blue. "W-what? But, I just -"

"Don't do it again." she said heavily, then stalked away from him. He looked after her, fidgeting, trying to figure what he'd done wrong THIS time. He hadn't meant to be over-protective, it was just that bullies got under his skin. Well maybe he HAD been a little protective, but still...

'Maybe she's not over the Desmarais incident as I thought she was.' he reflected suddenly. Sighing, he trudged after his wife, hoping she would cool down so he could apologize.

Sometimes, married life really was unfathomable.

Two days later...

"Gentlemen, this is unacceptable."

Although the words were uttered in a tone no harsher or higher than any conversational voice, and that the face of the man who had spoken them remained placid, almost serene, the three men who heard those words couldn't help but feel a shiver wash over them, nor could they help the cold sweat which followed.

After all, those who displeased Joshua RedBarrow ended up in a very unfortunate state later on, more often than not. And, right at this moment, the leader of White Arms was feeling quite displeased.

Once again he looked at the reports, his keen eye finding the main information quickly and efficiently. Three people had shown up whom he did not quite like the outlook. They had taken secret identities and snooped around the city of Helena in central Montana, asking questions in a way which wouldn't have been discovered for what it was if the oldest of them hadn't asked the question to one of his three agents still stationed there. An investigation had followed.

And it had given them - and by that, RedBarrow himself - these names: William Guile, Airforce Major and an highly-decorated ex-Delta Force soldier, Jeremy Storm and Cammy White, both of them members of the SCD Elite, and reknowned combatants in the Underground War which pitted the armies and elite forces of many countries against the might of the Circle, then the world's most powerful underground criminal organization.

Three big names, and names which entered the very dangerous and powerful class of World Warriors, fighters better than the best. And if this report was correct, they were looking for the old base White Arms had abandoned nearly ten years beforehand.

His eyes rested on the oldest and most experienced of his three agents. "Are you positive they haven't found any lead of importance whatsoever?" he asked, keeping his voice mildly neutral.

The man in front of him was trying to put up a brave front, a confident mien, but the old soldier could see right through it. The agent was shaking in his uniform, afraid to make a mistake, hoping he hadn't made one already. Good. Cowards always did their best to please those who commanded them.

"Yezzir! We've watched their moves carefully and I can zay they have no clue on the whereaboutz of ze old baze." was the answer he received, given in an accent RedBarrow couldn't quite place.

The grey-haired man settled back in his comfortable leather chair and scratched his chin, keeping a focused, unblinking stare on the threesome, elliciting some fidgeting born of discomfort and a little bit of fear. So they had found nothing. Good. Very good. It had to be kept that way.

"You have, of course, scoured the base to see if anything of value, anything which could be troublesome was remove, did you not?" he asked after a length of time.

He had asked negligently, not really doubting what the answer would be. But he soon found out that he had stumbled upon something quite innocently enough. A very displeasing something. The three men exchanged quick looks, their nervosity apparent to even to most untrained of men. The mood RedBarrow had been feeling became cold stupefaction, and then a rising fury of ice. He frowned at the three, his lips curling down ferociously.

"You mean to tell me." he growled slightly, "That you have taken no step to insure that three soldiers of the highest caliber, who happen to work against our immediate aims, did not find any sort of evidence?"

"Well, sir, we thought that, since they had found no leads..." the man shifted uncomfortably, his mouth clamping down, as if he realized the stupidity of his coming comment. And the result it would have had. As it was, it was all the White Arms leader could do not to sear them with his wrath.

"Incompetents," he spat despite himself, and the three trembled. He calmed himself with an effort. "You have no idea of the power of the American military we have no control on, and the SCD is a force to be feared and reckoned with." and he knew what he was taliing about there. He turned his full attention to the highest-ranking agent. "Go now. Right back to Helena. Go to the base and destroy any information. If you fail..." he let the threat hang in the air.

The man saluted hastily, his face sdrenched with sweat. "Zir! Immediately zir!" behind him, his comrades did the same, looking no less frightened.

He nodded curtly. "Dismissed." he snapped, and they all but bolted out of the room, leaving him alone, back to his peace and quiet, and his work.

He didn't return to his voluminous stacks of paperwork, his myriad of lesser reports immediately, however. Rather, he pushed a button that put him into communication with the security forces of the main base.

"Sir?" a serious voice answered immediately.

"Lieutenant, three men just left my office. They are undercover agents from the CIA. I wish for you to assemble a team and follow them. If my suspicions are correct, they will attempt to steal away inside our old base in Helena, Montana. I want you to wait until they are inside, then you kill them and clean the base of any remaining tell-tale evidence."

"Yes, sir. We'll leave immediately."

RedBarrow disconnected the commlink with a satisfied smile. One problem down. White Arms had no need for such fools anyway. These men had proven their incompetence to him, and nothing irked Joshua RedBarrow more than a lack of skills and common sense in a soldier.

"That didn't happen with us, did it, old comrades?" he mused softly.

On impulse, he opened a drawer of his desk and took out a picture. It showed three men of no more than twenty-five, sporting British special forces uniform grinning at the camera. All three were athletic, wore battle-hardened looks and an air of mischief both. They were sitting on the steps of the British Parliament, which had been saved by their concerted efforts. It was a victory pose they had decided to take to show that they had won, and that they were the best.

The three young men, William Brisby, James Wolfman and Joshua RedBarrow, had after all BEEN the best of their generation. They had carried out missions together that would certainly killed lesser agents, had countered countless threats to the western world's safety, and had fought in the Cold War better than anyone ever did.

But all good things had to end, and one day they regretfully dismantled their little team, with Joshua being enrolled into White Arms. James and William had stuck together, and had ended up in high positions in the MI6, until Brisby - good old far-sighted, idealistic Brisby - had created the SCD, an organization which had grown into one of the most advanced, far-reaching anti-terrorist group in Europe, if not the whole planet.

But then, these two men had been people he had actually both liked and respected. It was no wonder they had become so great.

He had been saddened when he had heard that his old comrade had been killed in the Battle of SCD HQ, the Circle's sneak attack which had sparked the beginning of the Underground War. But he had also learned that many Circle soldiers had fallen before taking down the SCD leader. He had felt relieved at this. He wouldn't have liked to honor a man who hadn't dearly sold his life.

"It appears your organization might be taking an interest in White Arms, old comrade." he whispered, looking at the grinning young Brisby's picture. "If you melded them after your mold, they might actually be a great challenge."

A slight smile crossed Joshua RedBarrow's face at the thought. It would be about time to have a challenge. It would give themthe occasion to test out their theory and experiments.

"I await the challenge from your followers, Will." he stated ferally.

And with a chuckle, he put the picture back where it belonged, and returned to his work, his mind already preparing for a confrontation with the organization which had been founded by one of the few men he had - almost - seen as a friend.

Two days later...

Ibuki felt more than a little bit lost as she sat on the roof of her own house in suburban Tokyo. She was reflecting upon her life, her hopes and dreams, and found them suddenly very wanting, because she felt she HAD no dream of her own.

All of her life, as far as she could remember, she had worked with the purpose of pleasing the Shinobi Clan, to please her mother, her grand-father, and the memory of her father. Her father, a man who, it was said, died for the entire clan, his name honored throughout the world of ninjas. She had been trained, molded and educated for this purpose, and had never doubted that her duties to the clan were more important than her own self.

Until meeting the Hunter. Until the one who had declared an unspoken war against the entire Shinobi had accused her grandfather of killing her father. It had been blasphemous, she had been utterly furious...and curious. A curiosity mixed with a sense of dread had been born there, until she could take it no more. And so, gathering her courage, she had gone to ask the man she respected the most what had happened with her father.

She had expected - had WANTED - a scathing, honest denial. She would have taken it and any punishment without any problem at all, if it had only soothed the concerns she had felt growing within her heart.

But he had not. He had shot her a look that froze her blood, a look of guilt which had flashed for a bare second, and then she had been told to go back to her house and stay there until she was called by him again.

She had been pushed aside with no answers she liked, and many more questions than she ever wanted to have about what had always been her life. Whether she wanted it or not.

What had she been fighting for?

She hugged herself as that thought entered her mind. What indeed? All of her life, she had secretely disliked certain ways the clan had to deal with people. Assassinations. Blackmail. Warriors not fighting with the amount of honor they shoudl, sometimes stooping to back-stabbing. All little things gnawing at what she felt inside, things she had never dared tell anyone, even her own mother.

"This is my life. Thats what I was born for." she admonished herself "But is that really what I want to do?"

"An interesting question." stated a deep, toneless voice devoid of emotions.

She recognized that voice, was up and whirling around to take a defensive stance before the sentence had been fully uttered. Not ten feet from her, decked in the black that was his trademark, stood the man whom she felt she couldn't fathom, the one who went from good to evil without a problem, following rules that seemed set in loyalty and not much else. One who walked through the shadows, a friend of theirs even more than a master.

"Everick." she hissed. The Shadow Walker raised an eyebrow at her tone, and it showed more emotion than she'd ever seen on him.

Well, except that one time, when the man served Circle Lord Kale...

"Now, girl. Surely you don't think you can defeat me in your state. Your emotions are so muddled you'd be unable to fight me at your full strength. Don't try anything foolish, thats my advice."

"You seem to forget, Shadow Walker, that I nearly defeated you once."

"Nearly is the word one must remember here. You had you chance and lost it. I will never let myself that open again. And here I am not caught unawares. You have no poison. And your aren't in the fullest of your form. Be rational. You can't win against me right now. That is the way of things as they stand right now."

She gritted her teeth at the arrogance she perceived. The man did not change his tone, didn't even shift in any way, and yet she felt he was looking down at her, gauging her as an inconsequential threat. She searched for her chi, found that she couldn't fully access it like she had used to. That made her aware that he was quite right. She wasn't at her full power. And like it or not, without all of her ressources, she didn't stand a prayer agains this Lord of Shadowlaw.

But it didn't lessen her fury one bit.

He looked at her with those calm, serene eyes which were like shields and yet exhuded power and command, and his lips quivered for just one moment. Was is a smile or a sneer? She would never know, for the next instant he spoke again, and the moment was lost to her.

"I once asked myself that very question." he mused as if he was considering which brand of beer he should buy. "What do I want to do? That question haunted me for a long time, until, one day, an incident I will not tell you about changed me, and made me into what I am now."

"A heartless killer!" she snapped, her tone rigid with frustration.

He looked at her evenly. If the words had stung him, he showed no sign. "I am no less heartless than the ones whose teachings you have followed all of your life."

Her eyes widened, and deep inside her something strained painfully. What this strange man was saying felt strange to her, and yet... and yet, she could find no real fault with his statement. After all, weren't the Shinobi the exact kind of assassins that the Shadow Walker was, only on a smaller scale?

"You...you're wrong." she said desperately "Thats not all that we stand for."

"Perhaps, but that is most of it. Believe me. I know. I have known your kind a long time. You're just like me."

"No!"

"Admit it. You feel it."

"NOO!!" she screamed, her unsettled emotions taking the best of her, allowing her to access her sluggish chi, forcing her to spring forward. She lunged forward, leping into the air, spinning and aiming a nasty kick to her foe's head. The leg flashed closer, faster than most humans could see...

And was just as quickly dodged. Her eyes widened momentarily, before she felt a rock-hard punch go straight into her stomach, forcing bile upward despite her chi-flowing, trained muscles. She gasped softly, and had no time to do anything else but stare as the back of her foe's hand. She fell backward, bouncing on the rough tiles of her roof, and coming down hard on the ground. The pain coursed throughout her body, but she wouldn't yield to it, forcing herself to stand again.

But before she could do so, a foot slammed into her head, forcing her back down. Her vision filled with stars that she tried to clear, but she found her strength ebbing away at a speed she didn't think it would ever reach.

'He was right.' she told herself grimly 'I wasn't ready for him. Not in this state.'

She felt more than saw his presence looking down at her, barely heard his toneless voice as he finally spoke again.

"I warned you, young Shinobi. But have my blows hurt the most, or was the truth the one who felled you?"

"D...damn you. I...w-won't die...i-in the...dirt!!" she growled with all the strength she had. With a new surge of energy, she stood up, glaring up into her opponent's face, refusing to yield, daring him to stop her from rising again ad again.

Everick only looked at her with his usual serenity.

'I won't be beaten.' she said to herself. 'That's all I have left. Thats all I am. If I'm beaten now, what am I? What were my sacrifices for?'

But her strength wouldn't hold out against the sheer strain it was going through, and by the time she was fully on her feet, it was gone. She toppled forward, straight against the Shadow-Walker's chest. He put his arms on her shoulders and told her something, but she couldn't tell what it was.

It didn't matter, she had failed to hold on.

'I'm nothing anymore.' she thought sadly.

And she let the darkness take her.

One day later...

In his life, Adam Winters had had to run from many foes, often wisely opting for fleeing rather than face one whose power outmatched his, sometimes preferring this solution to combat, or sometimes even from a lack of interest in his opponent. The circumstances varied, as did the foes. And so, his reactions to his instances of fleeing the scene were just as variable, ranging from highly amused from plainly scared.

But never had he felt betrayed as he ran, using his chi to augment his speed, his speed picking up as he fled from one he had once thought as less than a friend and more like family. And in his head a thought kept crashing back and forth in his head, whirling in a vat of fear, confusion, betrayal and rising wrath as bullets whizzed close to him.

'Why, Sharon?!?'

He couldn't really phrase it, however, as he was too busy avoiding getting killed. As he dodged another bullet, he reflected on how quickly the day had gone from relaxingly normal to highly dangerous inside of a minute.

He had been down surfing for secret links on his high-tech computer, breaking codes in a way which few on the planet could comprehend and even fewer could imitate. He had been rather surprised to see her in his little Marseille hideout, not from the fact that she'd found him but rather from the fact that he hadn't seen or heard of her in a long time. Needless to say, he had been overjoyed to see her, and had walked to meet her amicably.

That had been a foolish mistake, showing that even his hardest experiences hadn't completely cured him of a certain complacency that sometimes dulled his reflexes. As it was, he'd hardly had the time to react as she pointed a semi-automatic at him and fired, her eyes set, unreadable.

Instincts had taken over then, and he'd found himself gathering chi as fast as he could, and blast it through one of the walls which led outside. He'd leaped for it, narrowly avoiding death, and from there on in it had been a hard-paced chase, leaping from roof to roof, firing chi blasts when his unbelievable new enemy had a clear line of sigh, ducking behind walls and doing all he could do stay alive.

Well, almost all he could.

He hadn't fought back yet. He had been surprised and stunned by disbelief, but that was starting to fade.

And to replace it came a need to strike back where it hurt.

He dodged one more bullet, which buried itself inside the brick and mortar wall mere inches from him. The near-death experience made him freeze for bare second, just as he realized with horror that he had made himself vulnerable. He frantically tried to regain his former speed, but the sudden rush of panic had phased out his senses and inner center, and his foot caught something and he slipped down, coming down on the floor hard with a wuff sound. He lay there motionless for a moment.

He was dead.

But a part of Adam's spirit, the part which had buyoed him through the worst situations and the adversity he had witnessed, that part stubbornly refused to yield. His wrath gave way to cold decision, and he reached deep within his powers, channeling them into his cells, while his mind snapped the position Sharon most have taken to take her shot. He doubted she would have moved much, especially with him down like that.

Within a bare second, just as he heard the bullets soar into the ground where he'd lain, he was elsewhere, right next to Sharon. Her eyes widened momentarily, and she turned to lock her sights back on him with a hardly a bit of hesitation. However, as she did so he was already twisting, and his foot managed to snap the gun away from her. She fell back a step, holding her most-probably-aching wrist, as he scrambled to his feet, allowing himself a very grim and cold smile.

'Teleportation. Gotta love it!' he thought, and then all traces of mirth fled from him as he glared at the one who almost was sister to him. 'But now its time to get right down to business.'

"Why, Sharon?" he finally asked.

She didn't answer immediately, only holding her arms in front of her and taking a fighting stance. So she wanted to fight, eh? Fine by him. He had no weapons on his person, but the skills he had should allow him to prevail. Anyway, if worse came to worse, there always remained his energy techniques.

"So, this is what you want." he growled, taking his own stance. "Okay, then, lets get crazy!"

They lunged at each other in the same moment, both silent, both much too used to the silence of their respective operations to utter a real war cry. Sharon arrived flipping her feet three times in succession, trying to catch him by surprise, but he saw it all coming for him. He dodged them easily, using his chi to augment everything. This was close quarter combat, and although he was smart enough to know some fighter could beat him if it came to a slugfest, he was quite certain she wasn't on that list of close combat dangers.

He quickly gained the advantage, as he had surmised he would. She kicked, he blocked, retaliating with a crusing knee strike which blew her backward. She flipped in the air, regaining her feet and landing safely, but he was already underway with his next move, unleashing it in the form of a very quick ball of chi.

That attack never would have armed those trained in chi-use, but Sharon, as athletic and strong as she was, wasn't one of them. She received it directly in the face, toppling backward. It wouldn't do anymore than stun and blind her for a few moments. Moments which, in a fight, were an eternity.

He lunged at her again, this time with a pitiless snarl.

"Why, Sharon? Why did you attack me?" he growled as he hit in the abdomen, causing her to double up in pain. The sight saddened him, but he flicked the thoughts of friendship away. It was no time for that.

It was time for business.

"Answer me!" he growled again, hating the slightly desperate edge which grew in his voice. He brought his elbow down on her, and the red-haired assassin fell to her knees, coughing. He gathered up chi, channeled it into his leg, and kick her in the stomach again.

"Answer me!" he called in a clear voice, no longer careing about who heard him. She crashed into a wall, and still wouldn't talk. His anger started to take him over once more. Here was a friend,acting like some damn killing machine, refusing to answer him, only intent on putting a bullet inside of him.

If it was so... then the game was up!

He slammed her back into the wall just as she tried to pull away from her, and barely registered the groan of pain that escaped her lips. He started laying in the punches, pulling them but not too much, his heart torn between confusion, anger and the brotherly love he felt despite all of this horrendous experience.

And it was when he came about to lash out with yet another punch that the answer came to him, spoken between swollen lips. "They got Blair. I had no choice." she whispered, her eyes dead.

That stopped him. Caught him completely off-guard. And caused him to consider the situation. Blair Dame? Her sister? What had happened to her? And who were 'they'? These were questions which bothered him quite a lot, and they warred against his anger, causing him to ask himself what he had been doing.

Why? he had asked. And she had responded by telling the name of the only one who meant more to her than anything. Wasn't that answer enough?

He held her up, a little, his hand gripping her leather vest and forcing her beaten face to look at his. He didn't like the defeated look he saw there. It chilled him, coming from someone like Sharon.

"Okay, then. What's the story. It's better be a good one!"

Yes. A very good one. For her sake...and his.

A day later...

Kenneth Masters, son of Gregory Masters and Shio Hasawa, heir to Masters Enterprises - not to mention All-American Martial Arts champion - had seen a lot of peculiar and beffudling situations in his life. His upbringing as the son of a wealthy family and his extensive training under the martial arts legend Gouken had made him appreciate many sides of life, and had made him more insightful than his brash, reckless attitude usually showed.

However, in this particular case, he was quite simply stumped.

After all, how did one deal with seeing an equally-renowned World Warrior playing with a one and a half year old boy and enjoy it just as much as the child in question? His answer was to show quasi-absurd stupefaction.

Little Melvin Masters and Chun-Li Xiang were, for their part, having their lot of fun, giggling together while building a very great pyramid of wooden blocks. The Asian woman's face was filled with childish glee, clashing with the signs of high maturity and strength which remained from the time before the Shadowlaw Lord Vega.

"So, Ken, as I said, its a problem." Ryu's voice came from beside him.

Ken looked at his friend to find a state of puzzlement on the wandering fighter's face which certainly matched his, probably increased by a factor of three. Ryu was, after all, a loner single-mindedly focused on bettering himself and the fighting skills he possessed and who had had far less human interaction than the average man. It was no wonder that this strange event was making him feel nervous and out of sorts. It was equally comprehensible he had come to Ken for help in the matter.

Deep down, it had irritated Ken to have the man show up on his doorstep for that reason. For years he hadn't seen the guy, only having a brief encounter with him when they had teamed-up to defeat the Shadowlaw leader Bison. It hadn't been surprising not to hear from his old friend again, but it had hurt. Sometimes Ken actually asked himself if the Wandereing Fighter really cared about their old friendship.

Fortunately these moments passed very quickly, and he had been more than willing, with his beloved wife, Elisa's agreement, to let him and his charge stay at his house until they'd found some sort of solution.

But that solution had yet to come. And although the stay had gotten little Melvin a very willing playing partner and had helped rekindle the friendship between the two Shotokan students, nothing seemed to be in sight yet.

He sighed. "Well, Ryu, I gotta say you're right. Its a big problem. Normally I'd say that if you went and found a good shrink-" he noticed Ryu's confused expression "- I mean psychiatrist, that it might get better, but -"

"But..."

"Well, its a Shadowlaw Lord who did this to her. And they have ways of breaking people that defy most definitions." As I found out for myself, he finished grimly.

Ryu nodded slowly, as if he had expected that kind of answer all along. And he probably had, too. Despite the rather unhealthy, 'fight is everything' trend the man's life had become, he too had his font of wisdom, and could read him like a book even more than Ken could do with him. It had been like this ever since their first weeks of training together.

"Maybe we could get Dhalsim to take a look at her, see if there's something to be done..." Ryu mused outloud. The blonde fighter blinke, arching his eyebrows slightly.

"Who's that?"

"Dhalsim? Ah, a Yoga master with great psychic powers I met thanks to Edmund Honda just before the battle against Bison. He was a very wise man and knew minds quite well. I have the impression he could be useful to finding a cure."

"Thats assuming all doesn't hand up returning in the long run." Ken noted "You've told me she's made massive progress since you first took her with you."

Ryu looked out toward the child and the child-minded fighter with a troubled look. "For a little while, she did. However, for a while now her state has become stationary. Its like she can't go further, can't regain her adult mind."

"Or maybe she won't. You guys ever thought about that?"

Both men turned to look as Elisa came in, dressed in a blue blouse and black pants. She looked toward the play room, noticed what was happening, and shook her head with a slight frown. "No one deserves to be locked in child-time forever. What kind of person would do such a thing?"

"People like Vega, it appears." Ryu noted.

Elisa shrugged uncomfortably, and looked at the other woman with a lost air. Then it suddenly changed to one of anger and fright, so suddenly that Ken looked back toward the playing child and near-child. He understood what was going on immediately. Chun-Li had been caught by the childish anger that happened so often to toddlers, had knocked the wooden blocks away, and seized Melvin's wrist. With two normal childdren it would have brought a short-lived fight, but Chun-Li wasn't a child. She seized the wrist with the strength of a woman stronger than most men.

Needless to say, Melvin started crying from the pain.

In an instant the blonde warrior had crossed to the middle of the playroom, and forcefully disengaged the Asian's wrist with his own greater-than-normal strength. He gritted his teeth, preparing to give the girl a scathing comment, when there was childish moan, and a sniffle that took all of that away in a flash.

Chun-Li was crying softly, looking at him with fearful eyes, eyes so frightened that, insanely, he felt like he had done an horrendous act, instead of reacting like a father who protects his child from danger. He knew he hadn't really hurt her - from what he heard of the woman, she was though, and it would take more than a strong squeeze of her hand to make her weep as such. So why?...

Then it hit him.

He had hurt her.

He was angry.

He was blonde.

DAMN.

He was acting just like Vega, at least up to a point that she could relate to it. This wasn't good. Far from helping her come out of her shell, it might just plunge her in deeper. He let go of her hand, and she backed off a step, her eyes tearful and frightened.

"M'sorry. Don't hurt me." she mumbled fearfully.

Ken couldn't help but feel like dirt at that moment. True, his son had cried, but he hadn't been really hurt, and hadn't been in any danger with he and Ryu so close at hand. He had to face it, he had over-reacted. Trying to undo the damage he'd done, he put up an appeasing smile, and held a hand toward her. It wasn't working, she was still looking at him with fearful eyes that distrusted.

Damn, what had that crazy Vega done to her?!?

By then Elisa had taken Melvin in her arms, and Ryu had come to crouch next to the child-like chinese warrior. His face, when it looked at him, was filled with a worry Ken felt quite vividly.

"Dhalsim, you said? Do you know where we can find him?"

Ryu gave an uncertain nod "More or less."

Ken nodded, needing nothing more than that affirmation. "Then jog up your memory, pal, cuz we're gonna go see the guy! There's no way we're letting this go on without doing something!"

He just hoped whatever they'd come up with would be enough for this woman to regain her full sanity.