Akira vs. Tenjin: Shadow of the Serpent

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Tenjin

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#1  Edited By Tenjin
Uncharted Malaysia. Present day.
A shallow river twisted in from the horizon, so soft was this stream it shimmered like glass. Emerald leaves sailed in its current, each exiled from one of thousands of ancient trees. Standing in its path was a obscure figure, legs planted deep into the underbelly of the river while it parted at his knees. He stood alert, eyes narrowed and focused in the distance. The surrounding forest broke his line of sight, restricting him to a mere ten meters of perfect vision. Yet, he continued to stare. His jet black hair hung past his shoulders while beams of light breached the canopy of the adjoined plant life revealed the detail of his physical build. Clad in a fitted body suit rivaling the color of his locks, every muscle masoned to absolute efficiency shown through. He seemed to be a form of pure darkness, adorned with sterling buckles and armed with nothing but a sheathed katana, whose craftsmanship was incomparable. Though, his face is what made him human this day. A deep scar ran down his brow, constricting the skin around  his eye. His pale skin was like ash, the remnants of a once great fire. Running from his jaw and over his mouth was a half mask, fashioned to be a demon's maw. This man was Katsuro Yamamoto, known to friends and foes alike as Tenjin, the veiled executioner.
 
Tenjin had come to the jungles of southern Asia for a single purpose, one that only a warrior understands. Once a year, he himself sends a note to a specific individual, words written in his blood and signed with a sword. With only coordinates and his signature, it was given to a man he had long respected both for his supremacy in combat and his understanding of Katsuro's mysterious methods. The blood letter had been sent to Akira Overdrive and without falter, as anticipated he had accepted. Now, in echo of a leopard's roar and the flutter of majestic birds he awaited for the omen.
 
 An hour passed, yet he still gazed into the nothingness. Katsuro hadn't flinched or adjusted his stance since dawn broke. Until, the sun rose from the mountainous hills barely visible from the wooden blockade, past the limestone walls and beyond a garden of scarlet orchids. As if he had been awoken for a supernatural slumber, he shot from the stream leaving a turbulent azure wave behind him. Decaying foliage, dry twigs and exotic wildflowers compressed under his feet as he ran towards the morning star. Severing low branches with swift strikes of his fingers as they hindered his path towards his enemy. Katsuro had ran for over five miles only to come to a grey stone stairway. It spiral upwards into a great bluff and at its peak was destiny. Carved by the natives centuries before our time, the rock began to crumble away at his heels. Markings of idol gods, runes and etched murals of ritual sacrifices had caught his eye as he made his way up those sacred stairs. With every step he climbed higher, towards the heavens. The golden sun appearing closer by the minute until his boot wrapped foot thundered on the final step. Tenjin now stood on the battlefield and his foe only paces away.
 
A smooth stone surface stretched into the side of the mountain, hidden for modern man's destructive grasp all this time. A slight fog rolled beneath them, cloaking the ivory bones of fallen warriors of old as they lay scattered across the platform. Gazing upon them was a moss layered statue of a bejeweled and bloodthirsty forgotten god. Its thirst would soon be quenched however before they would begin Katsuro had some words. 
 
"Let the gods forsake us this day comrade, and hell spite us for in death we may continue to draw swords for all eternity. Salah*." His voice dark and muffled by his mask he spoke once more. "Let us begin."  
 
Without warning the Human Hayabusa dashed towards Akira. Tenjin's fists clenched just as he neared his nemesis, his body arched back as if he was prepared to deliver a hook punch but as he pivoted he used the momentum to spin. Using the faint as a diversion he brung the fist downward and into a open palm upon impact with the hard ground and swung his right leg over in attempt to drive his heel into the base of Akira's skull. Furthering his onslaught, using the remainder of his velocity he preformed a front flip in unison with the kick to send his armor plated elbow deep into the Viper's solar plexus if connected. With the other hand free, he struck a instant Shaolin style stance and torqued all of his body into a iron palm strike at AK's left shoulder but continuing with a focused striaght punch aimed at the heart. However the palm strike and striaght punch where merely another diversion as his other hand shot out and attempted to tear Akira's throat with a tiger claw hand formation.
 
Without seeing the effects of his combination the living shadow vaulted backwards in a series of back handsprings and grounded his feet preparing for his opponent's retaliation.
 
(Salah*- Arabic version of the Hebrew word "Amen")

 
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Akira Overdrive

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#2  Edited By Akira Overdrive


The humid rain forest of southern Asia was home to many prey and shelter for few predators. A typical day in the forest was filled with indiviual battles for supremecy and competition,each animal thriving off of instinct and adrenaline. Trying to fill a niche or role in the short life cycle of the jungle. Some men have mastered this predator-prey chase, and of those men was from the jungles himself. He has been truly forged from test and the challenges that such an enviornment creates. Fighting like a ferocious Bengal Tiger with the Slyness of the Viper. Akira overdrive was now in a place he knew all to well, to duel with an old rival merley for a break in the norm. This was the kind of day Akira wished he could die on,but no one has ever came close enough to releaving the Merc King of his soul. Perhaps his own apprentice,the Supreme Shinobi,Tenjin could fufill such a deed. 
 
A stone temple came to the crimson eyes of AO and gave off an almost aged bronze look thanks to the sun behind it. A small crack of a smile appeared on the mans face and soon he began his ascension to the top of the ancient ruins where humans where scarificed to the gods of a forgotten religion. Every step the man took, he felt his soul grew more and more ready to meet fist with an opponent of tremendous skill. This time seemed to seperate itself from all the others, the sun set was serene and in the background one could see a flock of birds leave the canopy of the rain forest that seemes a little distant from so high up. Akira carried no weapons,no gadgets,and no grudge. For he wanted his spirit to be clean if today he was selected to join the fallen warriors of Valhalla. The dark black trenchcoat dragged across the dark grey stone steps and soon dropped down as Akira shed it from his borad shoulders. 
 
The Viper arrived at the stone battlefield as soon as Tenjin was finished with his sermon,and only spoke to his god in unison with the ninja by saying "Salah". Just at that moment his rival flew across the tablet serving as ground to throw a feint attack towards AO,of course it was not recieved well as Akira threw his left shin up and out to reflect the kick aimed at his cranium. Switching thoughts faster then a cobras strike Akira pushed backwards so that the upcoming elbow strike would level nothing but the air itself.

 

"Shaolin,No match for Eagle Claw"

 
Akira thought to himself humorusly and began to leap into the air,contorting his fingers to mimic the talons of an Eagle. Midway into the air the Ghost made a quick and swift descent catching the straight punch with his open hand and absorbing the inertia of the intial impact. Landing on the ground Akira seemed to have misstepped and was caught with a destructive Iron Palm aimed right for his shoulder. The impact created more kinetic energy,but the torque was too much to handle and seperated the joints that held his arm. Akira grimaced in pain,but reverted his focus to an incoming tiger claw. Bringing up the straight punch that was still clasped in his "talons" he deflected the deadly attempt at his throat and used the opening to try and throw a strong midsection kick to Tenjin,then releasing the grasp to flip backwards simultaneously flailing his feet towards the Human Hayabusa to preform an inverted sciscor kick. 
 
 
"Looks to me like,you got yourself the same old bag of tricks." 
 
 With the created space,AK Styles took advantage of a millisecond and popped his shoulder back into place,then wasted no time as he ran towards Tenjin. Just before making a connection the Phantom Phenom skidded to a stop digging his heels into the ground and creating a small cloud of dust. He was merly inches away. Now would began the assault. Pulling back his fist a little,Akira sprung into motion throwing a flurry of well placed strikes towards the enemy. Right,Left,Up Down,Diaganol. The technique known as the golden arms of Vishnu was meant to strike every where the opponent was and would think about going. In haste, Akira stopped the fury ending it a little sooner then he wanted to and dashed to the left side of the Ronin then leaped in a corkscrew to the right, throwing an immense roundhouse to the neck. Quickly spinning around to the back of Tenjin he surrounded his plams in energy;Right in the devestating kinetic energy he absorbed from the contact earlier and Left in energy that was pure telekinetic and would cause no physical damage,but sever nerve links in the back. Each palm would kill an elephant. Shifting to his horse stance in a nano second Akira thrusted his palms to the back of his pupil then jumped once again through the air to meet Tenjin face to face,where he started the attack. One final "One Inch Punch" was thrown at the heart of his enemy. 
 
Akira smiled and quickly dashed behind and to the left of the battlefield,fleeing down one flight of stairs in hopes of pursuit if his attacks where mostly unsuccesful. 

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#3  Edited By Tenjin

Within the silver mist two men prepared for death, embracing it as a welcomed solace for a world fallen into innovation. Where wars are fought by forked tongued politicians whose greed starves children and murders millions of innocents. These types of men have seen the sharp end of Katsuro's sword, yet they continue to multiply like flies. This world is like the nine levels of Hell for the two assassins. They are the last of dying breed, who do not comply with society and its filth. Never to lower themselves to such a widespread disease. Worshipers of idol deities and live lifestyles that ended many centuries ago. Finding serenity in battle, heaven in pools of blood and salvation in the cold clutches of death. So now, under the ruby eyes of the ancient statue and an audience of skeletons, he and his kindred foe bring forth a ballad of honor and valor. 
 
Tenjin had began the assault, rushing forward with swiftness and a piercing gaze. Akira although, was not one to be taken so lightly. Katsuro had unleashed a stylized scorpion kick, but his attempt at overwhelming his cunning opponent's defenses were fruitless. With much grace the Viper had deflected the blow with a elegant leg block and simply shuffled backwards so his dagger like elbow hovered in the breeze. Tenjin couldn't help but smile as AO leaped vertically and used the Chinese eagle claw style to grasp his left fist. The Human Hayabusa was also knowledgeable in the Chinese arts and collided his iron palm strike with Akira shoulder. He felt the quake of joints unlock and the muscles distorting like shifting water. His tiger claw style was not as promising, his masterful enemy forced the flesh tearing maneuver of path. Akira had sent a powerful kick at his abdomen but with surprising speed, the manslayer whipped his free hand around and caught the Phenom's heel. But, the bloodlusted shinobi had underestimated Overdrive and collecting immediately on the situation he had released Katsuro's hand and brought upon him an acrobatic scissor kick. AO's foot met Tenjin's chin. Even protected by the ceramic mask he flet his neck fell as if it was going to snap. The mask shattered instantly, black splinters shot into the air as Tenjin was sent flying upwards with seemingly lifeless limbs. As he landed, his shoulders fragmented the bones that lay scattered across the ground and as his eyes met the sun he cursed. His back was overcome with agony but using his mighty legs he kicked up and sweeped them from underneath him, landing perfectly in a defensive stance. 
 
 "Looks to me like, you got yourself the same old bag of tricks." said his exultant mentor. While Katsuro spoke sternly with a jaw trickling with crimson saliva  "I'm going to enjoy tearing out that tongue from your screaming mouth." His gloved fingers gestured Akira to meet him as he spit the remainder of his blood from his mouth.
 
 The prideful ninja also dashed forward, meeting his kin head on. His mind was already analysing the situation and as Akira slide into Tenjin's path it seemed they would slam into each other until they came to a complete stop merely inches away. The Viper had attempted a rare technique known as the Golden Arms of Vishnu, named after the god said to be both the creator and destroyer of all exsistances. Though, Tenjin had already begun to use his enhanced motion perception ability, allowing him to see movements at half speed. From all sides he seemed to be barraged, then Katsuro rooted himself to the ground. Akira had unleased his flurry but Tenjin dropped downwards with legs stretched in oppsite directions forming a splits like pose. As the first pair of hands passed his head he pressed his hand on the ground and kicked one leg into the air. He rotated low to the ground, swinging his legs out causing him to spiral upwards like a powerdrill. His left hand pushed down on Akira's lowest strike and then backwards forcing him into a backflip and over compensating so the high punch barely grazed his cheek. The diagonal attack was met with the base of Katsuro's foot and stalemated the blow with an outstretched kick and utilized the momenteum to easily vault into a cartwheel without the use of his hands and completed his stellar acrobatic feat.    
 
It seemed that Akira wasn't finished. His mentor leaped upwards while Katsuro had planted himself to the ground and through the corner of his eye he saw an incoming shin. He had no time to dodge and the attack could not be avoided at that distance. By instinct he threw his right arm up in a coiled position, protecting his neck as the force knocked him off balance. His cognitive abilities allowed him to establish equilibrium much faster than an average human, just in time to react to a near fatal technique brought upon by his nemesis. In haste, the Living Shadow drew his sword, the blade tore through the scarrbard instead of drawing it in the conventional fashion. With supreme skill brought upon by years of Bushido study he spun the katana between his fingers forming a makeshift shield. The palms struck the blade of the sword, the kinetic waves traveled through the now flowing steel and up to the hit, the vibration tore a gash in his right hand. Without regarding his wound he brung the katana out infront of him, pressed firmly against his chest as Akira launched the infamous "One Inch" punch, made legendary worldwide in martial arts films. Again the attack struck his sword, whose craftsmanship was superb, forcing the blade to twist irregularly before exploding into many pieces. 
 
In the intense heat of the morningstar, beads of sweat rolled down the Human Hayabusa's pale face. His scarred face shook in displeasure as AO began to descend down the flight of stairs. His bloody hand still clutching the remains of his sword began to strangle the hilt until it bent clockwise. As if it was just a game before, he unearthed the demons within his soul, now was a time that only a select few had seen. A truely furious Yamamoto. From the bone littered platform he ran at fullspeed towards the stairwell and as he reached the first step he leaped, incredible strength propelled him to a height unattainable by a human. He descended downward in a free fall, the g-forces crashed against him as he cleared every step and slammed his feet into the newfound arena. His black hair became curtains, masking his fiery stare while he assumed a standard ninjitsu crouch. His back was still burning with intense pain yet his lust for evening the odds between him and Akira was unfathomable. 
 
There was a slight stillness in the air, the howling primates became silent, the birds stopped screeching, the whole jungle for just a few seconds was timid. Tenjin raised slowly to his feet and spoke a phrase he had not said since his times with Les Assassins 
Silencieux. "Prepare to die...." His voice cruel and emotionless as ever before.
 
Like a dragon hurling itself from the sea, the Warlord of the Mist sped fast across the side of the mountain. His feet grinding against the sand like rock and ascended upwards until he near his foe and dived like the falcon he claims his namesake to. The Human Hayabusa sent forward a series of bicycle kicks, each aimed at his foes chest acting as rapid pistons. Before he would finally touch the ground he spun once backwards counter clockwise, lifting his leg straight up to deliever a hellish axe kick at AO's right shoulder. He understood his foes ability to dodge nearly any attack, thus as he landed he swung his leg around to sweep Akira but kicked upwards and sent a knee to the nose of the King of Mercs. As he was airbourne he brought his hands close to Akira's head and as he leaped over tried to rip his ears off with quick clenching of the fist followed by pulling in opposite directions. As soon as he landed he pivoted into a mantis stance and tried to jab his fingers into the eyes of his mentor with such force he would pierce the brain. He lept backwards and with a strong horse kick he hoped to demolish the kneecap of his sly and stylish teacher.
 
His prowess in agility was again recognized as he corkscrewed a few feet off the ground only to undermine the fact he had scooped gravel into his bloodstained plam. Upon landing he tossed the fine stone mist at Akira's face just to force his arm upwards in a knife hand posture to slide between the ribs attempting to pull up on the bones so that they burst with pain. In the emerald sea of leaves below Tenjin leaped from the mountain, he battered through branches until he clung to a low branch and vaulted into a frontflip tossing himself into a small clearing. Surrounded by enormous trees, in the distance stalked a hungry jaguar hoping one of the two men would fall here, so he may gourge himself on the flesh of the valorous.