Ghost Rider (Ultimate Marvel vs Capcom 3) says...
One of our flames will be extinguished this day. Won't be mine.
Summary Games Dialogue Arenas Gallery Credits
Theme:

Search:

User:
Pass:
King of Fighters XI
Storyline of King of Fighters 11, The
Ten soldiers in full-dress uniform gather around a gravesite, as the sky begins to release the first hints of a coming downpour. As the coffin is prepared to be lowered into the hole, a pastor reads a passage from the Holy Bible.

Ralf made a quiet aside to Clark, his voice obscured by the sound of the falling rain. "No matter how many of these I have to attend, it never gets easier."
"That's the price we pay for being mercenaries," Clark replied. His sunglasses were off, revealing a gloomy expression.
Ralf and Clark had known each other for many long years, and each knew there was no need to say anything further.

The man being interred died at the age of 59 years old. Had he lived a normal life, he should have had a wife... kids... even grandkids. He should have been preparing for his upcoming retirement, to live out his final years relaxing. However, he spent his life with guns and ammunition as constant companions, and even if he'd had a family, the lure of the battlefield would have eventually torn it apart... and he would be just as alone as before.

And so it was that all who attended his funeral, save for the pastor, were fellow soldiers.
The pastor closed his Bible, and the commanding officer prepares to give his order.

"We have come to pay our final respects to Jim Oldgate, a fine comrade and a true hero..."

Though Heidern felt certain that his subordinates grieved for the loss of a comrade, he glanced at each of them in turn, noting their unflinching, stony expressions.

"Present ARMS!"

All in attendance, except for the pastor, brought their right hands up to salute in seamless unison.
Attending were Heidern, Ralf, Clark, Whip and Leona. Whip held a small white flower in her left hand.

The casket held nothing more than a set of dog tags and another white flower. In life, the deceased had always had a preference for them. Upon his death, his remains were scattered such that it had been impossible to retrieve them.

When the order was given, the soldiers dropped their salute, and the casket was lowered to the bottom of the grave. The rain began to fall harder, each drop giving off a heavy noise as it struck the empty coffin. At last, the work was finished, and the soldiers began gradually to disperse.

"Ralf & Clark, I need to talk to you," Heidern said, his spotless regulation dress uniform marred only by his eye patch. He then called Whip over as well.

"As you know, it's time for another King of Fighters, in which you are to participate. That is, of course, an order," he said.

All of them had expected this, but they were slightly troubled by the fact that Leona was being left out of the conversation.

"We've established that Mukai's colleagues are most definitely not part of the Orochi Hakkesshu."

Though Ralf's concerns had not diminished, Heidern continued on. These folks most definitely had plans to make use of Orochi's power. This had apparently been why, in the last tournament, they had broken the seal on Orochi itself. Its influence had once had a devastating effect on Leona, causing her to lose her mind and become brutal and savage until she had been restored to her normal self. She had no memory of her actions in this time, but snapping her out of it had been exceptionally difficult.

One other thing preyed upon his mind.

"Professor, I get the feeling there's some connection between that and this mission..."
"What's that?" replied Heidern.
"Just before the last tournament, we received reports of a mysterious giant blimp. I think we may be able to get some more specific information on it this year."

Without so much as a mild tremor in either his expression or his voice, the one-eyed man replied, "...Continue your investigations."
"I see. Something about this has been bothering me."
"You'll have the details as soon as I do," said Heidern. "For now, I need you to concentrate on your current assignment."
"Yes, sir."
"The three participants will be you, Clark and Whip. That will be all."

The three of them stood at attention as Heidern took his leave. Whip was the first to speak.

"Colonel, don't you think this is a little strange?"
"What do you mean?
"Well, wasn't Heidern lying just now?"
"...So?"
Whip felt that the situation merited more of a response than "So?" But she held her tongue. They were going to be the ones risking their lives on an assignment. So why weren't they being given all the pertinent facts? Didn't that just make it more dangerous?

"Whip, do you know the name of the flower you're holding?"
Only one of the flowers remained. In Japan, they were called "Kobushi," and were a type of magnolia.
"...It's a magnolia," she said.
Ralf nodded. "To put it kind of fancily, it's just about trust. I can't even begin to tell you how many years we've been with the professor. He says only what he feels he needs to say. Nothing more."
Whip just barely managed to bite back a reply.

"Oh, yeah..." Clark, who had been silent throughout it all, replaced his sunglasses in their accustomed position and laughed. "That's the colonel's idea of 'fancy talk."


***

As Heidern continued walking, the sound of Ralf and the others' laughter made its way faintly to his ears. Now, the responsibility for commanding a national army fell to him. He was well-aware of just how heavy a burden that responsibility could be, but that was not the reason for his heavy heart.
"Adelheid...," he thought to himself, "Yes, that was that young man's name."
Leona walked along with him, never straying far from his side. She was soaked, but made no motion to get the water out of her blue hair. She was the reluctant daughter of a soldier.
"If I can protect just one from that cursed bloodline, you will be that one..."


Since 2006
Twitter| Facebook| Discord| E-Mail