Mongolia

As a lone boy sat alone atop a camel’s back, he stared to the cloudy, wondering what his future would bring. The rain did not bother him the slightest, nor did the smell of wet camel fur. The loss of his psychic uncle did bother him however. Uncle was a stretch, it was more like a great-uncle, as in grandpa’s brother. The old man Chad however, was important to the seventeen year old Kushik. He had trained the boy to understand his psychic abilities, and was as wise as any old man could be. It was a shame when he was found to be dead a week ago.

With a small fuzz of a growing mustache of black hair, it seemed as though puberty might have reached him a tad late, physically that is. Under Chad’s teachings, the Mongolian boy had to mature very quickly in order to control his psychic powers. It was a story about a woman named Rose that was used in this favor. A girl from Italy with a psychic powers of sorts that started out troubled by her powers. In fact, it was to the point that she was captured by some guy named Bison, and was made obedient to his control. It was funny. Uncle Chad always seemed to think so fondly of that Rose woman, and rarely said her name in a disgust or harshness. He wondered just what this Rose was to Chad. It was strange to see him sound as though he was daydreaming and lost in fantasy. Chad was an octogenarian, it wasn’t healthy for him to be into girls so young, was it?

Regardless, that did not matter. What mattered now was that Chad was gone, and Kushik had a power he still did not understand. Yet, under the ideas of his uncle, he took up self defense as well to aid his psychic powers. The body and mind need harmony, as he was taught, and Kushik was not one to disgrace his elders. It would be the style of his country’s pride, Mongolian Grappling. It was a style that proved historically to be powerful. It was at the root of military training at the times of Genghis Khan, and the Mongolian Empire. More than just skilled in cavalry hit and run raiding, the Mongols trained in this grappling style of fighting as well. Kung Fu, as well as other fighting styles can be traced back to have Mongolian Grappling in their techniques.

The premise of Mongolian Grappling is simple, strike and throw your enemy at the same time. It would go nicely with his psychic powers… or so he thought. It became clear that psychic powers were at an impasse when it came to fighting. There was no way to predict his foe’s next move by way of mind unless they weren’t very good. Chad told him that most warriors usually have some form of mental clearness that goes so deep that fighting goes beyond thought, and becomes a simple instinct. As such, he never tried to use his mind to read his foe’s next move ever again.

As the light rain slowly soaked him and the camel he rode, which did not like being in the rain, he continued to think, until the camel made a loud grunt in the way camels are known to grunt. “Sorry Graja,” he sighed to the camel as he stroked a hand along its tan and furry neck, “Let’s go home.” he stated as he revved the stable. The boy would need some time to think, and figure why uncle said his psychic powers would be so vital.

Location Unknown

The bodiless voice of Bison laughed. “Ah, Cody, I almost forgot to mention that we had some… complications with your friend.”

Cody snarled as he stood in the lab. “What’d you do to him?”

“Cody!” Guy, standing an inch tall at most, shouted, “Get out of here while you can! You can let me die…” his voice trailed.

“No.” Cody said sternly. “I don’t want to lose the only friend I have left.” his voice was solemn and low. “If working for Bison gets you safe, then I’ll do what I have to.”

“If Guy attacks me when he is brought back to his normal self,” Bison warned, “Then I will defend myself in favor of your stupid deal, and I will kill him for sure this time!”

Cody gritted his teeth. “I… I accept.” he sighed.

Senoh grinned as he eyed the man who towered him. “You might just like it here! There’s plenty of fights to keep you from worrying about good and evil, so be a good brainwashed loser, and you’ve got yourself some fights, got it?”

Cody glared at the man, he could easily sit on the small scientist, and squash him into a bloody pulp of a pancake with his bones crushed so bad they’d break into dust. He wouldn’t dare though. “Don’t think about it Cody! Otherwise you’ll find out that hamsters can die in a similar manner!” Bison threatened.

“Gerb…” Guy began but stopped his outburst. Was this what Zeku meant when he said he’d need to risk his life for anything? He had told Rose that sacrificial ends were not the way, yet here he was ready to die to keep his friend from bolstering the ranks of Shadaloo.

Flashback

“Calm yourself, Guy.” said a man, “You seem troubled…”

“I’m sorry Master Zeku.” replied Guy, looking like a human, and not a gerbil. “I am just thinking…” he stated with a stern look on his face. “I am confused. When is a battle suicide compared to being worth dying for? You say that a Bushin warrior must be ready to fight evil to the death. What if the battle cannot be won? It would be a sacrifice if I do not hurt my foe at all.”

Zeku was silent for a few seconds as he considered the question himself. “That… is something that you must figure out for yourself.” replied the Bushin teacher. Zeku was the current Bushin master, number 38 at that, and Guy was one of his most promising students. Guy would not be ready to be a master of his art for a few more years still at this point in the past. “Part of understanding right from wrong is to figure them out for yourself. It takes more than just good battle technique to master the Bushinryu. One must be willing to defend against evil that threatens the balance of life.”

“I don’t understand master.” Guy admitted, “What difference is thee between evil and balanxce disruption?”

Zeku’s gaze was serious as the wind of the outdoors blew against his long hair “That too, is not something that can be taught.” as he eyed Guy’s gloom, he spoke again, “Do not despair, Guy. I believe you have what it takes to understand the Bushin secrets. You must remember though, that new secrets are discovered all the time. The Bushin way… as you know, evolves ad adapts a bit.”

Zeku sighed, as his eyes turned to the partly clouded sky above, “That is not to say that the Bushin will give up the fight to defend the balance. That will never change! It does not mean that a Bushin must be lax in his training. Only through understanding in the mind, and the strength and spirit in the body can a Bushin Ninja unleash justice in every strike he makes.”

“I… I understand a bit better.” Guy nodded. “Thank you, master.”

Zeku nodded to his student, “You have come far, Guy. Your determination is impressive. Should you be predecessor to my title, I would not be surprised, and would not doubt you’d use your title far better than I ever could.”

“I doubt…” Guy began, filled with, well, doubt, obviously.

“I would not doubt if I were you.” Zeku interrupted, “There is no way to predict the future after all. Psychic powers is nothing but a hoax. Even Bushin prophecy should not be taken as fact above all, for if there is one thing you should be wary of, it is someone who thinks they know the future.”

End Flashback

Guy tensed his rodent body as he remembered those words. Had Zeku known what he was saying about the future? Guy had not even performed goodness with his powers for more than two years before falling against Bison himself, who at the time was using Rose’s body like a parasite. ‘I wonder where Zeku is now…’ his eyes clenched shut, as he trembled in gerbilized rage.

“He’s dead, Guy!” Bison laughed, “You didn’t think that your were the only one in your martial arts style who was meant to pursue me? That fool tried to as well… he paid for it with his life! It looks as though there is no master left for Bushinryu Nippo.” Bison’s voice faked sadness, “Poor little hamster.”

“Gerbil!” Guy corrected on instinct, before slumping back into despair. ‘It’s hopeless!’ he came to realize, ‘I am and never was not worthy of being Bushin master…’

Siberia

Zangief shook his head as he eyed the black masked opponent who tried to attack him in the cold harsh climate he wandered nearly naked. “Little girl!” he stated, “I don’t like little girls who want to get hurt.” he stated.

The masked foe said nothing, as she leapt at the man again, first stepping foothold on a tree and leaping off without the laws of physics to tell her no. She lunged with her two claws ahead of her, but her attack was no match for the Red Cyclone.

“You must be a student of Vega, ya?” the Russian man asked, as he caught her in his powerful grip. “Let’s be seeing what’s under your mask!”

“Vega?” the girl stated in a rather harsh tone. “NO! I’m better than that loser! I’ll be proving it by killing his enemy first!” she snarled as she struggled against Zangief’s might.

“Hate him? Then why are you going after me?” the Russian man wondered, setting her to the ground. “You should not be hunting me. You are Russian too!” he stated, “You would do bad for your mother country?”

Decapre paused at this thought. She hated needing to think things over and reprioritize her mission. “I… Oh, God damn you!” she hissed in a heavy Russian accent, as she swiftly leapt for a tree. This time, as the Red Cyclone stood ready to attack, she did not head towards him. She was jumping from tree to tree, retreating or so it seemed.

“What was being the point of that attack?” Zangief shrugged, as he turned back to the hunt for worthy foes in mother nature’s finest beasts.