I’m going to write this short story in the fashion of a series of magazine articles. So basically Isaac Stein is a professional writer who’ve covered the competitive fighting circuit for nearly 3 decades. He is the author of “Behind the Matches”, a sort of “Behind the Music” type column that appears in a fictional magazine called “The Fighter’s Edge”.
Unforutnatly it seems near the end of Fight for the Future: Part 1, it degrades into Fanfic drivel, but hey. Not my first fanfic, but my first foray into SRK.com forums here. Any input good, bad, totally flaming is welcomed. And here we go.
The Fighters Edge
[]Behind the Macthes[]
Fight for the Future: Part 1
In the 27 years I have been writing for this column, its been a rare occasion for any competitive fighter to actually invite me to interview them. The competitive fighting community is a tight knit one of trade secrets. Secrets that if known, could ultimately lead to the exploitation of a fighters technique. A majority of my interviews involved retired fighters, among the best interview so far was the one of Zangeif of 1998. However even though their prime has long left them, many retired fighters are still reluctant for a interview for fear that any revelation of their techniques might actually pose a danger to their protgs or students who are actively competing. A few weeks ago, a representative of the Mel Masters estate extended an invitation for me to an interview about him.
As I was driven up to the Masters estate, I wondered to myself: what did I really know about the Masters family? Ken Masters was the greatest fighter on the American circuit, and was amongst the top fighters in the world. Any mention of him being placed a strong second behind his training partner, Ryu, was often overlooked by Ryus habit of quickly leaving after a fight, leaving Ken in the proverbial spotlight. His career was shortened by his obligations towards the family business and his wife, but however short his career was, he electrified the American competitive fighting scene.
Critics were quickly silenced when they commented on Kens final retirement, when he became a total recluse. He left his business empire to his trusted staff and locked himself away from the world on his estate. It was only a few years later with his death that speculation flared up in every magazine, television show and radio program. All the usual trash floated around, even so far to credit corporate espionage. More questions arose when the autopsy reports quoted natural causes and a very private funeral.
As I was lead in by the butler, a veritable museum of the Masters history was arranged along the hallway. Dozens of paintings with the Masters in different locales and places. However there was none of Kens portraits anywhere. As we passed through a few doors and rooms, we eventually reached the training room, the size of a gym with every equipment feasible at anyones disposal. And there was Mel Masters, training like there was no tomorrow.
Isaac Stein from the *Fighters Edge* magazine Master Mel*, announced the butler
Thank you Matthew, he replied as he stop his training and grabbed a towel, do you care for a drink Mr. Stein?
I declined the offer. I asked if there was a more suitable place for us to conduct the interview. Matthew excused himself and no doubt was off to other duties, as Mel led me off to an adjoining office space. It was a plush office, more likened to a den or a study. Various books lined the shelves with all sorts of subjects. I was quite pleased by how much diversity of culture in the collection, however Mel quickly pointed out that most of them were his grandfathers and forefathers.
Ive read all your articles on my father Mr. Stein, he said as he took his seat behind his desk, I like them very much, very well written.
I thanked him for the compliment, You may call me Isaac.
Ok then Isaac, you are probably wondering why I called you specifically.
I politely nodded. I usually let my guests talk for themselves.
Isaac, I called you up here today is because I want to discuss something very important. Something that a man of your integrity and honesty can only report, he then proceeded to call for someone on the intercom.
A pale looking elderly man came in holding a briefcase. His face was weathered, not by age, but a wisdom gained through experience. He enumerated a sort of old energy that despite how the world changes, whatever his occupation, never changes.
Isaac, this bag of bones here is my lawyer. He has written up a contract for you to sign basically agreeing to the terms that you will produce 5 articles about me for the next extended period of time that we may stay together. This is also an insurance waiver to clear the Masters estate of any liability that might happen during our expedition.
I gazed blankly at Mel, as he explained the terms laid out before me. The old lawyer had already brought out a thick stack pages of the contract, and lifting up to the appropriate spot, offered me a pen to sign on the dotted line. I froze. There were many things that Ive expected from this interview, but nothing quite the magnitude of an expedition and to where? With whom? But anything worth reporting was worth going through thick and thin to obtain, and without further hesitation I just grabbed the pen and signed.
The lawyer quickly left and as the echoes of the locks of his briefcase clicked, he was gone. Mel waited for his lawyer to leave until he spoke again.
Thank you Isaac for giving me the same trust as you did to my father, he got up and walked to the window, and stared to the landscape beyond us, Isaacif you havent already figured it out, Ive called you out today to find you the truth about my fathers death.
I breathed somewhat a sigh of relief. I was half expecting Mel Masters to announce a tour of all the tournaments that are done around this time of year. After all of years of training, and his 18th birthday just a few months ago, one would assume he was ready to take the fighting world by storm. And yet those ideas seemed like high hopes for something safer than the pooly of mystery I was about to dive into. All the rumors of his death came flowing back to me, and none of them seemed respectable with the severity of Mels tone.
Isaac, no one took my father more seriously than you did. You saw past all the shine and glitter than the media lavished him in, and instead you shown him to be a true fighter, even in his downtime. Today, is the day Im ready embark on a journey that my father had laid out for me. It was a journey that my father could not have completed, but instead entrusted to me since his death.
I wrote down what he was saying, still letting the words sink in. I did not realize the gravity of the situation until after I had wrote everything down and Mel parted from the window and was already opening a seemingly heavily secured door to the right of the room.
I made no expectations of his invitation, seeing how I already signed a contract to report on this expedition. So I followed without any order. As we walked down a sleek cold blue steel hallway, I saw the missing Ken portraits from the hallway below. Here were posters, enlarged newspaper clippings and photographs of his tournament days.
My grandfather was fairly strict on presenting a professional image of the family line. He sent Ken to study Shotokan in Japan to teach him respect and dedication, however he never expected Ken to go so far as to compete in fighting tournaments. So out of respect of my grandfather, my father decided to keep any portraits or records of fighting career more private in the mansion.
As we came near the end of the hallway, Mel put his hand on a screenpad, and it scanned his hand. Slight circles and markers appeared on the tips of the hand imprint, and then the pad flashed green as the door opened.
You know Isaacmy father died in the mansion.
That tidbit of information was unnerving since I was entering a secluded secret room of the vast mansion, clearly away from any earshot to hear screams. Inside the room was another gym, however slightly smaller. It was full of computer screens, cameras of all sorts and in the middle embedded into the floor and ceiling were two huge domes with a light in the middle of each one.
What is this place? I asked as I kept following Mel by my peripheral vision.
This, Isaac, is my virtual dojo, said Mel, My father built it long ago, started construction only a few months after I was born. By my 4th birthday it was completed. By my 10th birthday I was allowed to train in here, run simulation *Invitation*.
The voice activated machines hummed to life and the center of the room, the lights grew brighter. A strange visual static appeared between the two domes and suddenly, Ken appeared. I nearly choked on my air, coughing a bit, as Mel came over to see if I require any help.
Mel, if you had activated this, that means you had invited Isaac Stein to come along with your journey, said Ken with a robotic accent, If Isaac is not with you, then I trust in your judgement that you have found a suitable substitute to report what I am about to tell him. Isaac, or whoever has come. If you are watching this, then I am already dead.
Its a hologram I mused. The technology was liken to prototypes introduced a few months ago, but this technology is years ahead of that.
I recorded this long ago to tell you that I was murdered. The journey you are about to embark with my son Mel, is however not one of revenge, but of honour. Mel has taken responsibility to complete the task that I assigned myself long ago but was unable to complete. If I am talking to Isaac, I hope that it is possible for you to use your knowledge to help guide Mel, for there is only an extent that the recorded information I have taught him could be useful in the real world. Thank you and I love you Mel.
As I saw the hologram move its arm to turn something off, it disappeared. I looked over to Mel to see him wiping his eyes, quietly saying how he loved his father. He looked over at me, his eyes a bit red and puffy.
Well, we cant have you standing around all day, I guess we should add a little meat to your story, he said cheerfully.
I think we already seen enough for 2 of the 5 articles you want me to write. I mean, is there anymore? Did your father know that he was going to die? What killed him? Who killed him?
Mel ignored me, and walked off to a matted section of the area. There stood a ring of cameras, bright lights and other things. He turned on a few lights and then, I finally noticed that there was a dummy slumped over hanging by a rope.
I walked over trying to get his attention until he put up his hand, You wouldnt want to go any further than that Mr. Stein.
I stopped dead right on the edge of the mats and when I looked up at Mel, I saw his extended hand click a remote towards the dummy. I jumped back as the dummy lifted its head and began to straighten itself up. It whirred and hummed, possibly warming up.
What is that?! I remarked as I held up my notepad, thinking that somehow it hurt me.
Long ago, Interpol confiscated these cybernetic scouts that were owned by Shadowlaw after it's downfall. They were robotics vastly superior that what existed at the time. My father with his influences, decided to purchase a few of them assuming they had some use.
He clicked the remote on some of the cameras surrounding the mats. It was revealed that they were not cameras, but actually holographic projectors. As the robot started to break out into a stance, Kens image appeared on it. Soon enough it looked like Ken Masters on the mat with his son Mel.
Isaacpresenting, my sensei. My dad, he said with some form of accomplishment, run program, *Final Test*
A few beeps emitted from Ken and suddenly he took a relaxed posture.
Son, it spoke, I am proud that you finally consider yourself ready to take the final test. In this final test, you will pushed to your limits as you fight the ultimate opponent. So far it had been the cyborgs that I had pitted against you
Mel turned to me, Ive never taken the final test before.
But for this time, you will face me. Your master, your father.
I froze, but Mel looked like he expected this. It has been so long since Ive seen a fight with Ken Masters, and here I was about to see one between both of them. Soon enough the Ken broke out into a dash punching Mel in the face.
Its so fast! he said as he reeled back.
I would have to agree as I saw trademark moves by Ken being tossed out in identical form. He was keeping Mel on his toes, breaking any guard that he could have, when all of a sudden as Ken brought up his knee, Mel took that chance to attack with a standing sweep to the exposed leg. Quicker than Mel, Ken jumped up and high kicked him into the side of the head, sending him spiraling to the edge of the mat.
Mel hit the mat in frustration as he got up, only to have to block a ball of energy blazing down upon him. As he shook off the burning pain, he looked up only to see his father already in a hurricane kick slicing a flurry of feet into his face.
Mel was down again, as the cyborg came bearing down upon him. I saw Mel slowly get up, as his head quickly glanced at the Ken. As Ken was nearly upon him, Mel exploded, waking up from his daze and performed his fathers trademarked Shoryuken. Ive never seen the shoryuken so close before, but I felt the air being sliced as an energy clashed with metal, shaking me up.
As the Ken stumbled back, Mel dashed forward with a flurry of blows, that the cybernetic robot could hardly block. The force and power behind each attack drove it back more and more, further down the mat, until Mel ended the attack with a quick small one palmed Hadouken.
The Ken too the brunt of the blast on its chest but didnt fall over. It regained balanced as it shot its arms out to its side, its legs in a straddled stance. Right in the center of Kens chest was a metallic gash, sparkling electricity. The hologram was wearing off in that damaged section. The Ken stood up, put one arm on its hip and extended the other arm, taunting Mel to attack.
Mel smirked and shook his head. The Ken smirked backsomewhat proud of his son took on his persona. He rushed him, all the while Mel stood still. The Ken was rushing at him, ready to attack, and I was getting nervous as Mel stood there, not reacting at all. As Ken unleashed a bevy of attacks, Mel blocked them all, totally focused on all of them. As the Ken increased its offense, suddenly Mel ducked and soared into the air with a fire enveloped Shoryuken smacking the robot dead on. The heat of the flames filled the area, causing a wind to ruffle my clothes. The air filled with even more energy as Mel reached the apex of his attack, he shot down upon the bot, legs spinning vertically outstretched as he cartwheeled through the air, every rotation striking the robot. The robot slammed against the floor, shaking the entire room. Mel was straddling it, pinning its arms as quickly he tossed a one handed powerful energy blast into the robots face.
HADOUKEN! he yelled.
The mats surrounding them exploded and dust was in the air. Instantly a hum started and the ventilation grates opened to full compacity, sucking out the cloud obscuring my view. When it cleared, there was Mel, panting and wide-eyed staring at down at the remnants of the robots head, half gone. The hologram was all gone. The mouth slowly moved awkwardly saying, Im proud of you.so.n…nnn.
Mel got up slowly and smiled, looking up into the air, That ones for you dad.
I just stared at the center of the mat. I have heard of battles being this intense, but this was only a sign of things to come. Mel had come a long way since his fatheror perhaps it is that we have never seen the true extent of his fathers abilities.
As Mel walked off the mat, shutting things down with his remote, he grabbed a towel and a water bottle, Hey Isaacremember to put all of that in your first article ok?
With that, I was guided off back into the hallway, and onto a expedition of a generation.
AN EXPIDIEITON OF A…FIGHTER’S GENERATION LOLLERCOASTER.
OC
