The scene is dark when it opens up. Not a great deal can be made out apart from a single swaying light that casts a metronomic glow.

As the light oscillates, it intermittently finds the emotionless face of Azami Kiriyama. Her ebony black hair floats the sides of her face as she paces back and forth.

(Azami): Mary Shelley once said “The history of villains is much more entertaining than that of heroes. Because monsters are not born, they are created. They do not emerge from emptiness or darkness of their own accord, but are shaped by circumstances, by the wounds of the world around them. They reflect the depths of human pain, rejection, loneliness, misunderstanding. A hero is defined by acts of bravery, but a villain is the result of a heart that was once pure and ended up corrupted. Monsters, in their tragedy, show us what could happen to us all, if the world were to turn its back on us."

She smirks.

(Azami): That’s exactly what you’re looking at now. I am Frankenstein’s Monster and at Fatality, I showed my creators exactly what happens when you abandon me.

She pauses under the creaking light, her striking azure blue eyes glinting.

(Azami): Sean… dear Sean. You once said you’d never leave me. That you loved me. That you’d never leave me. That you’d stand by me no matter what. And, like any lovestruck girl, lulled in by those by big emerald green eyes of yours, I believed you. You’re no assassin, Sean Parker, you are a siren! You lured me in, mesmerised me and then you pulled me into the deep waters and drowned me!

Azami’s head tilts, and for a moment, her face softens, almost as if she remembers a different time. But it vanishes as quickly as it came.

(Azami): My father, the great Matthew Kiriyama. The man who forged champions but couldn’t see the champion in his own daughter. Chichi, you raised me in your image, trained me like a soldier, molded me like clay… then left me to harden into a weapon no one wanted to wield.

She steps forward into the light, revealing the shimmer of her Starlight Kid mask, torn down down the center, in one hand, and Masamune in the other. Azami brings the blade up to her eyeline, staring at its glistening flash almost lovingly. Still stained on the edge of the sword is Sean Parker’s blood.

(Azami): I told you that she should’ve been mine, Chichi. This blade was forged 600 years ago by our ancestors, passed down from generation to generation, father to first-born, all the way back to Diazen Kiriyama himself.

Azami laughs sarcastically before pointing Masamune in an accusatory manner.

(Azami): And yet you had the gall to accuse me of dishonoring you when you chose to break a six-century-old tradition and give her to a f*cking gaijin! Your precious Sora no Ansatsusha! I should’ve known! Even as a little girl! That first time we visited Scotland and you laid your eyes on him. The son you never had but always wanted!

Azami’s laughter disappears, replaced by a catch in her throat, her face screwing up and her eyes clouding with tears. She wipes at her face, almost annoyed at the tears, smearing black eyeliner down her cheek.

(Azami): You never saw me, Chichi. Not really. You saw a student. A body to break down and rebuild in your own image. But not a daughter. Never a daughter. And you, Sean… You made me feel like I could be more than what he built me for. You made me believe I wasn’t just a weapon.

She slowly lowers Masamune, letting its edge rest gently against her other hand.

(Azami): But now I see the truth. He forged me. You tempered me. And now… I am sharp enough to cut through the lies the both of you told me.

The light above swings harder now, almost like it senses the shift inside her. Shadows dance around her, wild and angry.

(Azami): You think I’m unhinged? You think I’ve lost my way? No, no… I’ve found it. And it leads straight through the heart of your legacy, Chichi. And yours too, Sean. You think what happened tonight was bad? You have no f*cking idea. This is just the start. For every wasted tear, for every pang of heartbreak you caused me, Sean Parker, I am going to bring down you and your family tenfold.

A sinister smile creeps across Azami’s face.

(Azami): So rest up, both of you. Hametsu no shisha ga sakebu toki, kuroki rōnin ni keikai seyo. When the Heralds of Destruction cry, beware the Kuro Rōnin.

The scene faded to black.