Déjà Vu

Chapter 2: Forsaken

***

Throughout the excited babbles of the growing crowd of scientists, doctors and technicians around him, he just sat there, numb to the world, unmoving except for the odd blink, the odd breath of air. His mind was racing – he couldn’t remember what happened to him, but it seemed he was alive. He was alive. But why?

His crowd of attendants had stayed reasonably hushed as what seemed to be the leader of the mob of white-coated men and women told the long tale euphorically. Apparently he’d been dead. He’d been dead for quite a while. He had been too dead to save. So his ‘real’ body had been placed into a cryogenic stasis unit whilst the G-Corporation, as he discovered, had used his mind as an experimental tool.

The body, wounded at this point beyond recovery, was now, after at least half a year of intense research, study and experimentation, within a healing unit deep within the labs of the corporation. In the meantime, Kazuya’s consciousness was within the confines of an android body.

It had turned out that Kazuya had always had a highly unusual physiology which had been called upon for the first time when he was thrust off a cliff at the bright young age of five. He had an unnatural ability to heal wounds, save himself from dying of normally fatal injury, and, most importantly, keep his mind from degenerating in the instance of death. Normally, without oxygen, the human brain would die within mere minutes, with no hope of being saved – electrical pathways fail, and as a result, everything gathered over a lifetime dissolves; memories, abilities, speech, movement, life – they all drain away into nothingness when the brain is starved of oxygen. But his unique physiology, aggravated by the presence of a spiritual being known as Devil, had once again saved his mind from degeneration over the hours he’d spent dead.

Though his brain was perfectly intact, saved from loss of all humanity, his body was apparently beyond repair. Drastic blood loss, broken bones, wounds too great to heal – the greatest atrocity being a hole blown right through the centre of his chest – had resulted in the G-Corporation turning, temporarily one would hope, to biomechanics. They had created schematics that were well ahead of any scientific sector in the world, and in the process, had created for Kazuya a body that resembled his physique, flexibility, strength, power, even his voice and ability to grow stronger – perfectly.

All of this information had been fired in his direction over the last half an hour. He heard every word perfectly, understood all their technobabble, but he felt as empty as he literally was in human terms. With their limited funding, the G-Corporation was unable to either afford or create the necessary materials to create realistic skin in great quantities. As a result, he’d been left with only his face and neck looking as they did before his death – the rest of him was plated intricately with some form of metal alloy. Whilst it resembled him exactly, he wasn’t used to being a shiny grey. He didn’t like it one bit.

His dark eyes caught those of the head of the department once again. He’d been babbling eagerly the whole time, but he slowed down as the deep ebony orbs burned into his; for some reason, he felt guilty for resurrecting this life once again. The silent pain was evident in the artificial eyes of their latest breakthrough.

“You don’t like it, do you Mr Mishima?”

Kazuya’s voice was a calm monotone, his expression unchanging. “Why did you do it?”

For a few seconds, no one answered. It was a middle-aged woman who stepped forward eventually. “With the greatest respect possible…it was an opportunity not to be equalled. No chance like this has ever presented itself to us such as this, ever.”

His eyes burned into hers. “Opportunity for what?”

She smiled. “Biomechanics, of course. We’ve created the world’s most advanced, most realistic automatons; but as of yet, we haven’t created a computer-driven mind to match our creations. With your unique physiology, we were able to harness one of the most formidable, one of the most brilliant minds in existence before it could go to waste. This is a scientific breakthrough that will go down in…”

He didn’t let her finish. With a soft sigh, he slipped off the bench he was sitting on, and walked out. To where, he didn’t know, but anywhere was better than this. No one stopped him, they simply let him go.

***

This place was too familiar for his liking. Leaning completely against the cold window pane before him, he watched as Tokyo went about its evening business below, the red and white lights of the cars so many storeys below streaming slowly up and down the main streets of the CBD. He knew the window was cold; it was winter, and it was late at night. But as he’d found, he couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t even sense it. His world was a detached mess, since he could only see and hear. Indeed, his sight was even sharper than it had been in life, and he’d come to notice that in his age his vision had failed, but now it was better than it had ever been. His hearing was the same. He could not only hear footsteps down the hall, he could hear every breath of whoever it might be coming in the silence of the hall. It was eerie.

He couldn’t tell how long he’d been staring down at the streets below. Hours, maybe. He was glad no one had interrupted him, just let him think things over for himself. He’d always been a solitary man. Now was the one time out of them all that he wanted to be alone in the world. His mind was a cacophony of emotions, memories, feelings, ideas…he couldn’t decipher one before he was interrupted by a thousand more. His brain, since it had been dragged from a corpse and into a highly advanced computer, was still jumbled, disoriented, and lacking cohesion. Most of his memories were currently fragmented and thrown about inside his head like a broken jigsaw, and it seemed only being alone to think would help him put his zillion-piece puzzle back together.

He knew who he was, he knew where he was; he didn’t know when it was, or why it was at all. He should have been left dead. He didn’t even know why he wasn’t alive in the first place. It was a mystery that was burning his metallic flesh from the outside in. Whoever said curiosity killed the cat was a fucking genius.

Footsteps eventually began echoing through the hall. Kazuya still stood in silence, waiting for them to disappear. Like the other people over the last few hours, he knew whoever it was would just head down another corridor and leave him alone. Unfortunately, it seemed they weren’t about to leave. Though they wore the same shoes as everyone else around this place, he could tell by the lighter, quicker footsteps and softer breathing that the person approaching him was a woman. He didn’t look toward her, he merely continued to watch his hometown in its hustle and bustle below him, feigning innocence.

She didn’t even walk right past him. When she reached him, she stopped, and placed a soft hand on his cool shoulder. He still didn’t look at her.

“Are you alright?” She’d been the first person to show genuine concern, and so far, no interest in him being a G-Corporation guinea pig – again.

He didn’t move. “No.”

She sighed softly, and petted one of his much larger hands with her own dainty fingers. He frowned. “It must be pretty terrible, huh?”

Again, he remained numb and emotionless, as a machine should. It was very quickly depressing him as more and more limitations entered his mind. “You have no i-fucking-dea.”

She shook her head, and looked down upon the city he’d been so intently watching for at least three hours. “To suddenly be robbed of what all humans take for granted, and rely on for their own sanity…you’re right, I have no idea what it would be like.” She paused to think. She was young, attractive, and full of energy – but she had a humane side that the others in her department seemed to lack. She felt for him, unlike anyone else, who were only interested in the monetary and scientific gain to the corporation. “Things will get better slowly. We’re trying to find ways to restore what rightly belongs to you…”

“My body?” His calm, deep voice interrupted her before she could finish.

She bit her lip. That’s all he really wanted, wasn’t it? Normally most people would jump at the opportunity to be stronger, faster and all-out better than they were, and to take on any physical appearance they wished. Then again, martial artists often have much more respect for who and what they are physically. A lifetime of training and fighting had been thrown into a stasis chamber, dead, and left to rot. “No…not yet…”

A shaky sigh escaped his lips, and he rested against the window even more heavily than before. His obsidian eyes drifted shut, and his forehead rested against the large, thick, cold window. Why had everything gone so wrong so suddenly?

For a few minutes she stood in silence, not moving from his side. Her small hand still rested over his metallic knuckles; she could only wish he could feel them there. She knew that if he had tear glands, he may have a drop or two of salty sadness trailing down his cheeks; perhaps it was of benefit to his pride that he was unable to cry.

“All this time…I thought that I wouldn’t be stuck in this…this…computer…for the rest of my life…” His voice was so low, so soft, that she could barely hear it, even in the silence of the empty hall. Subconsciously, she squeezed his slender fingers between hers…they didn’t return the gesture. “No one’s even told me why I’m dead…”

She squeezed his hand tighter, and tugged him away from the window. Once again numb from the outburst of emotion a moment ago, he let her drag him away, feeling no energy nor desire to resist. “Let me show you, Kazuya.”

She bit her lip, and pulled him lightly until he followed. “I’m not supposed to do this…but you have the right to know.” That didn’t help him too much; he knew this was going to be bad. Yet he followed her into the jagged jaws of the truth, feeling the sense of reality dragging at his metallic skin, digging its claws in, forcing him to accept his fate as nothing more than a science experiment…once again.

The long and convoluted route through the building, deeper and deeper toward the core, brought with it lights, shiny walls, sterile environments, and strange smells he couldn’t smell – he could only tell by the way people reacted to entering and exiting the area. So now, he’d lost two senses. It went without saying that he couldn’t taste either. It was too obvious to even hope for.

Eventually, after passing secured areas, narrow corridors, glass doors and many a trench-coat-clad employee of the infamous G-Corporation, they entered a dimly lit room, illuminated only by black-looking fluorescent bulbs lining the centre of the roof. The light cast itself down upon the shiny metal floor and many rounded glass chambers spread across the interior walls of the place. The masses of cables, tubes, glass and computer consoles, coupled of course with flashing lights of all colours, didn’t seem to bother him…he was more interested in knowing the truth. Besides, technology didn’t alarm or concern him; he was, no doubt, the most advanced piece of technology in the entire building.

The young woman led him toward one of the chambers of shaped glass, and stood beside it. He instinctively knew that within the glass, covered by a film of condensation, lay his answers. He also knew, by the sort of technology, that it was a holding tank for a stasis unit, designed for healing. This was where his body lay.

With a deep breath let in and out, Kazuya stepped forward hesitantly, almost scared of what lay before him. He knew it wouldn’t be pretty. After a moment’s hesitation, he raised a hand, and wiped the frost and condensation from the glass as best he could. What lay within was barely illuminated by the dim lighting within the room, and it took him a moment to focus.

When he did, he wished he hadn’t.

The ripped and torn being within was barely recognisable, even to him. The face, for a start, was more than the word ‘mess’ could begin to describe. The closed eyes were about all that were left intact; the cheeks were ripped and torn, and in some places, the white teeth beneath them shone out a bright blue against the lighting. Some of the hair on the head had been torn off, leaving a bald patch on the side of the head. Pieces of the cartilage on one ear had been sliced, and left ragged wounds, with pieces of skin left dangling by threads in the viscous liquid within the tank. Jawbone also showed through the damaged flesh and glowed against the blue light.

Kazuya’s eyes trailed down the naked body. Dark purple wounds showed up around the neck – so obviously the bruises left by a large, powerful hand – and below, a massive, gaping wound in the chest. In fact, he could see right through it. The thought left him feeling faint, let alone the reality of the image itself. On one arm, bones of the lower half stuck out grotesquely through the flesh, and on the other, enough flesh had been torn away to expose the very same bones, which had been left somewhat intact.

Lower down, the immense lacerations Kazuya knew as tears from rocks and other natural objects became visible. The longest, deepest one traced from beside the gaping hole in the chest, to the opposite side, to the top of the thigh. Any closer to the left, and it would make any man cringe in sympathetic agony. The legs, like the arms, were ripped to the bone, either with flesh missing, or bones jutting out through the muscle of the dead body. Outstandingly enough, not one limb or digit was missing, but the injuries were clearly enough to kill any creature beyond repair. Even in the dim light, the stark white corpse was laden with so many dark wounds…and he could only see what was on the surface!

Kazuya stepped back, unable to speak. The state of the mangled body was more than he could take – since it was his body!

He finally found his voice. “I am so glad I can’t throw up…” Though it seemed joking, he meant it seriously. His mind simulated a feeling of nausea within him.

The woman who took him here lowered her head, her eyes brimming with tears. “That’s why I can never look. I only saw it once…and all I can do is feel sorry for you. There’s nanite technology in there, slowly patching over wounds for the say we may be able to bring you back…but as of yet, it’s not enough.”

She couldn’t continue, since she was interrupted by a male voice, echoing from the other side of the room. “Hanii, I thought I instructed everyone not to come here…”

He too, was cut short…by Kazuya, silently seething below a façade of ice. “Why didn’t you just tell me? Why didn’t you just show me?” as he leaned a metallic hand against the surface of the chamber, he let out a bitter laugh. “Or better yet, why didn’t you just leave me dead?”

She old scientist shook his head. “Because I knew you would react like this. I didn’t want you to go through the trauma of knowing what you fate was…”

Kazuya stepped forward, rage finally getting the better of his normally cool temperament. He grabbed the old man’s collar, and pulled him close. “Oh, so you don’t think I have the right to know what happened to me, huh? I’m just your little guinea pig, aren’t I? I don’t matter, do I? When it comes to your little experiments, I’m just expendable, aren’t I? I’m just a mindless automaton for you to perform little tricks on, tinker with, do whatever the fuck you want with, aren’t I?!”

Since he got no response, he threw the old man to the floor in disgust. “Let me warn you, you old bastard, if you even think of keeping anything more from me, you’ll regret the day you were conceived. Do I make myself clear, or shall I repeat that?” He took a step toward the cowering man as he shuffled back in a panic. “I don’t care what you have to say about this, either. You haven’t even told me who killed me! You haven’t told me how I died, who did it – hell, you weren’t even going to show me this! My own body!”

As the scientist found himself backed up against a wall, he glanced around, whimpering in his state of panic, ready to say his final prayers. Casually, Kazuya slowly crouched down in front of the man. Lifting a hand, he gradually held it out toward the man’s face, pausing when he flinched. Without warning, the hand shot out more, his index finger holding the old man’s chin up painfully along its length. He smirked.

“Let me tell you know, my friend, that you’ve picked the wrong man to mess with. No one gets the better of me. I will only ever co-operate to a certain point.” His smirk widened. “You should know that by now, Carter.”

Struggling against the iron strength of his ‘creation’, Carter choked a reply. “You remember me?”

“How could I forget? This isn’t the first time you’ve backstabbed me and used me as your little toy.”

Carter took a few desperate gasps for air as Kazuya’s grip relented. “I would never do such a thing! We saved you from that volcano!”

Kazuya’s grin faded into a sneer, and his hand locked around the old man’s throat. “Who said anything about me wanting to be ‘saved’?!”

Of course, there was nothing but a strangled choke in reply.

He only slightly released his grasp. Sadistically, his head dropped to the side, and the corner of his lips curled downward. “You listen to me, Carter,” he began, his deep voice echoing about the room in a near whisper, the words almost forming a sing-song tone, “I’m not going to sit back and relax while you make me into your little circus monkey like last time. Whatever you wish to do, you shall ask me first, and only with my permission may you do anything to me. You know who I am. I will not be treated with such disrespect, ever again. All your findings, you will report to me. Only your goodwill can earn any obedience from me.”

He released his hold on Carter’s neck. “I’ll tell you now; if you wanted a new toy, you picked the wrong man.”

With that, he stood up and stalked out of the room. He knew exactly how to get out, and since time had passed, his recollection of the Tokyo branch of G-Corporation had pieced itself together in his mind. He had left here nine years ago to fight in the King of Iron Fist 4. Since then, he’d won the zaibatsu, and changed it into something honest, something worth being proud of. He’d even mended relations with his only son, over years of hard work on the boy; he’d won his respect. That alone meant more to him than all the zaibatsu in the world, not just his own. Now, he didn’t know if any of it was worth the effort, since it was all gone. Everyone no doubt knew he was dead.

It was only a short time before Kazuya found a computer terminal in a secluded office. Without hesitation, he logged onto the Internet, and began searching for news – anything for the ninth of June, 2026. It turned out that it was now 2027 – the 1st of August. The date, he knew, was important for some reason…but he couldn’t remember why. At any rate, his news search was a success; in the old news archives on an English tabloid website, there was an article involving the ‘brutal murder of the world’s richest man’. He knew that meant him.

It turned out that there was a reason he couldn’t remember the murder. He’d been hit in the back of the head with a solid object, then impaled through the chest from behind. This was in his own office. His body was found at the bottom of a cliff, miles away, ripped and torn to the point it was barely recognisable. The culprit of this atrocity – the former CEO of the Mishima Zaibatsu – Heihachi Mishima. In his old age, the only thing he wanted was his 58-year-old son dead. After losing his former strength and power, Heihachi had relied on more brutal means to eliminate his only son – and ended up leaving the Zaibatsu to the next in line of inheritance; a young man who went by the name of Jin Kazama.

So, the old bastard thought he got the last word in, did he? Suddenly, Kazuya’s growing resolve to end his miserable life completely dissolved. Once again, his mind was filled with images of revenge, revenge; torture of the old man who dared eliminate him. Then, he smirked. No, he would wait for the G-Corporation to hurry up and give him a more human appearance, then he would go and visit his father in jail. That would be the final insult.