(Setting: 1988: A mountain base deep in Thailand. The dense woodland surrounds the base, concealing its imposing structure.)

Sagat strides along a narrow dirt trail, his massive frame moving effortlessly through the thick underbrush. He pauses at a clearing, gazing up at a mountain whose rock face bears a menacing visage carved into its surface. The eyes of the carving seem to glare down at him as if judging his arrival. Sagat pulls a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, then glances at the screen of a bulky GPS device.

Sagat: “These should be the coordinates.”

He folds the paper and tucks it away before continuing. His sharp eyes scan the rock face until he spots a small, rusted iron door partially concealed by moss and vines. As he approaches, his instincts sharpen; he’s being watched. Sure enough, a deep voice calls out.

Balrog: “Yo! You the Sagat guy here to see the boss?”

Sagat halts, standing motionless for a moment before turning his head toward the voice. A muscular man with a boxer’s build emerges from the shadows, his arms crossed, and his grin cocky.

Sagat: “Yes. Would you happen to be my escort?”

Balrog: “Yeah, yeah, that’s me. C’mon, just get in the elevator. You’re expected.”

Balrog yanks open the iron door, revealing a dimly lit elevator with a metallic interior that hums faintly. Sagat steps inside without hesitation, his towering presence nearly filling the cramped space. Balrog steps in after him and presses a button, and the door groans shut.

Sagat: “I received a letter. I thought it prudent to at least consider the invitation.”

Balrog: “Man, you’re way too polite. If it were me, I’d demand a fat stack of cash just to show up.”

Sagat: “Unlike you, I value alliances built on mutual benefit rather than fleeting profit.”

Balrog: “Pfft, no fun at all, huh?”

The elevator shudders and begins to descend. As the doors slide open, they reveal an expansive underground complex. A bridge stretches across a chasm filled with laboratories. Scientists in lab coats bustle between stations, while glowing machinery hums with energy. Below the bridge, a massive generator pulses with a vivid dark blue beam shooting upward, casting an eerie glow over the entire facility. Sagat’s gaze lingers momentarily on the sight before following Balrog across the bridge. At its end looms a massive door adorned with a skull emblem flanked by two dark wings. The door creaks open slowly, revealing a lavish chamber.

(Setting: Bison's throne room)

The room is decorated with ornate classical paintings and gilded frames. At its center stands a towering silver throne, gleaming in the dim light. The man known as M. Bison rises from the throne with an imposing air, his crimson military uniform immaculate. He smirks as he takes in Sagat’s formidable presence.

Bison: “Balrog… leave us.”

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Balrog mutters under his breath but obeys, slipping out as the door shuts behind him. Bison approaches Sagat, exuding an aura of menace.

Bison: “Sagat Thanasukarn. The pleasure is mine. I summoned you here because I believe we share a common goal—one that involves the man who gave you that scar…”

(Setting: A martial arts dojo in Japan. The wooden floor is lined with training mats, and benches line the walls. Two men, battered and bloodied, face each other in fighting stances.)

Akuma’s crimson eyes blaze as he glares at his older brother, Gouken. His body radiates the menacing aura of the Satsui no Hado (殺意の波動), while Gouken stands firm, his breathing steady despite the cuts and bruises marking his body.

Akuma: “You have tarnished our art with your weakness. True power lies in the embrace of the Satsui no Hado.”

Gouken: “Power without discipline is meaningless. Martial arts is a path of self-expression, not a tool for slaughter.”

Akuma: “Your naive ideals disgust me. Prepare to die, brother!”

With a feral roar, Akuma lunges forward, his fists blazing with red energy. Gouken sidesteps his attack and deflects a brutal sidekick with his forearm, but Akuma follows up with a spinning Tatsumaki Zankukyaku, slamming Gouken to the ground. Akuma lands gracefully, his stance unwavering.

Akuma: “The boy has potential—allow him to unleash it, or you doom him to mediocrity.”

Gouken wipes the blood from his lip with his thumb and rises. Both fighters draw energy into their palms, the room crackling with power.

Akuma: “Messatsu…”

Gouken: “Denjin…”

Akuma: “Gouhado!”

Gouken: “Hadoken!”

They unleash their attacks simultaneously—Akuma’s Gouhado collides with Gouken’s Hadoken, creating a violent explosion of scarlet, blue, and yellow light. The dojo trembles as the clash dissipates, leaving scorch marks on the walls. Gouken hurls another volley of projectiles, but Akuma dodges with inhuman speed and counters with a devastating Goshoryuken, his fist erupting with flames. Gouken crashes into a support beam but rises to his feet, resolute.

Gouken: “You’ll never defeat me, Akuma. Power without purpose is hollow.”

(Setting: A serene cherry blossom grove by a stream. Ryu and Ken sit on a fallen tree, enjoying their meal from small wooden bento boxes.)

Ryu: “So, you're leaving tomorrow?”

Ken: “Yep, Ellis Island. Time to test my skills in America.”

Ryu: “Training won’t be the same without you.”

Ken: “Oh, quit whining! Fate’s got a funny way of bringing us back together. You’ll see.”

Ryu: “Maybe you’re right.”

Ken: “How about one last spar before I go?”

Ryu: “You know I can’t resist.”

Both leap to their feet, setting their food aside, but before they can begin, a deafening explosion rocks the grove. The ground quakes, and the distant sound of collapsing wood echoes through the trees.

Ken: “What the hell was that?”

The two sprint back to the dojo, the scent of burning wood thick in the air. As they burst inside, their worst fears are realized. Gouken lies motionless on the ground, the kanji for “Heaven” (天) smeared in blood on the wall. Standing over him is Akuma, his scarlet aura flaring.

Ryu/Ken: “Sensei!”

Akuma turns, his expression cold and unyielding.

Akuma: “Fools. Your master is dead.”

Ken: “You bastard!”

Ken charges at Akuma in a blind rage but is effortlessly swatted aside, crashing into a wall. Ryu trembles with fury, a dark smoke seeping from his body as his fists clench.

Akuma: “Ah, so the boy shows promise. Come, Ryu. Show me your power.”

Ryu hurls a blazing fireball, but Akuma rolls under it with ease and sweeps Ryu’s legs, sending him crashing to the ground. Standing over him, Akuma raises a crackling fist, preparing the finishing blow.

Akuma: “How disappointing. I expected more.”

Ken: “Hey, asshole! Over here!”

Ken, battered but defiant, strikes Akuma with a flaming Tatsumaki Senpukyaku, forcing him back. Akuma lands, unfazed.

Akuma: “Your compassion is admirable, but futile.”

He slams his fist into the ground, unleashing a shockwave that levels the dojo. As the smoke clears, Akuma is gone, leaving Ryu and Ken unconscious among the ruins.