Morte vs Gambler: The Final Chapter

The greatest martial arts practitioner the World had ever known, and the one man Gambler could never copy, had left a lasting impression on the sly Cajun. A rivalry had been born. Sparking two electrifying battles between bitter enemies who hated one another. Yet there seemed to have always been a sense of mutual admiration between the two. A third confrontation was all but assured when suddenly the self proclaimed, “Deadliest Man On the Planet,” disappeared. In his absence several events happened that would forever change the Vine landscape. One of which was the appearance of the Les Assassins Silenceuix. Historically recognized as the standing lineage of the Cotillard family. A prestigious group of legendary assassins who through sheer force an manipulation had created one of, if not thee, greatest teams ever assembled.

Time passed, people died, and soon a new generation of heroes rose up to defend what they believed in. But the Cajun never stopped looking over his shoulder for the Death Angel assassin. Quite possibly the only thing he truly feared. Gambler could never shake the feeling that behind every corner, behind every dark stairwell or alley, he was there. Watching, waiting for the opportune time to rid the Earth of the King of Kings once and for all. As if his mind had been infected by demons the Cajun hardly slept, insomnia staining the rim of his bloodshot eyes. It had to end, something had to give. Utilizing the resources at his disposal Gambler learned of and eventually tracked down a secret society of ancient and mystical Monks known as, the Death Angels.

Once their the Living Legend was thrilled to learn of Morte’s betrayal and subsequent banishment from the order. Although the Monks would take no part in Gambler’s plan, they vowed not to interfere as long as the Cajun agreed to fight with honor and discipline. With a Cheshire Cat grin as crooked as the letter S, he agreed. With the Monk’s approval, Gambler wrapped four Wakizashi blades within the ceremonial garb of the Death Angel’s and had them sent to the four corners of the World. Each on contained the same message,

“Tis time we had our last dance mon ami. Don’t disappoint me, wouldn’t want to be late for dis lil family reunion no?”

The world is a cynical place.  It is a place where nothing is as what it is perceived.  The former Death Angel Assassin known as Morte Rapida had come to this realization.  He was once an executioner appointed to the task of controlling the pace of humanities progression by secretly eliminating sometimes high profile marks which were decided to be global threats from a religious sect of mystical monks.  This society had been doing this for thousands of years.  After learning of his family’s brutal history, Morte wanted to find his own purpose in the world.  He no longer wished to be someone else's instrument.  Once he departed this order of assassins, the young assassin decided he wanted to help humanity and use his abilities by becoming a hero.  


Morte chose the responsibility of being a hero because in essence, he was once again helping the people and had no need to be surreptitious in his actions.  The dark warrior's new path of heroism did not end his inner struggle. He found that even though his intentions were noble, spiritually he was clouded.  The lone ninja once again departed his surroundings.  He left the high profile life of being a hero, though he had some very memorable battles his life lacked fulfillment.  Morte made close friends, and trained warriors he knew would grow to be elite.  There were also those that became enemies, some disappearing over time, and some he knew he would meet again.  Morte’s search for contentment eventually guided the silent assassin away from his peers in the illustrious group Mobb Deep.  His disdain for both heroes and the criminals is what ultimately led to his mysterious absence. 


There were few places in this world where one could seek spiritual enlightenment.  One was the Shinteki Temple located secretly in the hidden terrain of the Mongolian Mountains.  There he trained with men who were disciples and descendents of ancient bloodlines bred from royalty which devoted their entire lives to martial science.  Many of whom would spend decades mastering a certain style; this is their purpose in life.  Morte trained with these men polishing his expertise, mastering multiple styles of martial art to the point where performing them was instinct.  There he lived up to the title of Practitioner of Precision, demonstrating each style flawlessly.  He gained unparallel ability in physical combat, and eventually turned to philosophy to ease his personal conflict.  Through his studies, he found the answer which eluded him, a saying which delivered clarity....."Control is an illusion, Reality is perception, and your only guarantee is Balance."  This proved to be the Analytical Assassins life altering creed.



Control - The heroes tried to control chaos; chaos is what balances control, there will always be both, Morte did not wish to get caught in that foolish circle any longer.

Reality - The world is different through every eye that gazes upon it.  Who or what has the wisdom to make the ultimate clarification of what is real and what isn't?

Balance - Balance is reason; what goes up must come down, what has a beginning has an end, when there is dark, there is light.  That is the one universal law, everything is balanced.  Everyone is attracted in some form or another to their opposite, Morte did indeed find the one who seemed to balance him.

The Living Weapon applied his learning’s.  Through his life as an assassin, he acquired great wealth and had a very strong financial influence in many Asian countries.  He always kept his identity secret, only letting his most trusted servants, predominately Japanese Yakuza, control his businesses.  Morte did associate with gun trafficking and strong arming in corporations, but he viewed it as a necessary evil.  Most of the weapons he trafficked went to villages in Africa for protection against rogue militias, and contacts in Bosnia so the common people could defend against Serbian invaders.  It was his way of balancing the chaos.  Many businesses that are successful in this day and age are corrupt at one point or another.  As such, the businesses the Yakuza had a hand in enabled Morte to control how corrupt they were.  He felt he was doing more this way than he ever could by fooling himself into being a hero.  It was this prospect of balance which caught up with him as he was training in Thailand. 

An older gentleman wearing a dark suit stopped by the dojo to make a delivery asking for Rixon Sole.  What surprised Morte was not only that someone knew of his whereabouts, but of his identity as well.  He instantly knew his past was about to catch up with him.  The man making the delivery was holding a Wakizashi Blade wrapped in a familiar ceremonial garb.  It was the symbol of the Death Angel Assassins.  Morte quickly scanned his surroundings, taking a deep breath clearing his mind preparing himself for combat, he expected a highly trained assassin to attack at any moment.  To his surprise, he was met with no such thing; the man in the suit placed the blade on a table and began to exit the dojo.  The dark ninja cautiously walked over to the blade...he saw the message it contained.........

“Tis time we had our last dance mon ami. Don’t disappoint me, wouldn’t want to be late for dis lil family reunion no?”

Morte read the message; his feelings were evident by the expression on his face.  First he stared intensely in deep thought at the blade, and then cut a smile like a kid skipping school.   The Analytical Assassin then whipped the blade into the air and gracefully gripped the tip and sent it soaring toward the man in the suit.  The Wakizashi lodged into the back of his neck severing his spinal cord instantly killing him.  "No one presumes to know me by my true name" spoke silently by the killer.


The Cajun was the one man who seemed to bring balance to the former Death Angel Assassin.  Morte knew long ago on their first encounter they were meant to end one another.  Other than his mentor Master Soonsiet, there was no one else he admired more.  The flare, the demeanor, cunning and resourcefulness, and the ability to adapt to any situation he is in; Gambler was in a class all his own.  He had sent over a half dozen men throughout the years to keep an eye on whatever Jean Luc was up to, all of them highly trained Yakuza agents, and none of them returned.   The Living Weapon and the King of Kings were once teammates, allies. Both of them knew that wouldn't last, but it suited them both for the time being.  It goes back to that old saying...there can only be one alpha male in the house.   The Living Legend earned his reputation; he was feared, respected, hated, and loved.   To Morte, he was more than just a man; Jean Luc was the chaos to his control.


The Calculating Killer relished the opportunity to once again meet his old friend in combat; to a true warrior.....there is nothing else better.   Morte gathered his gear and began to make his way back to the place where he learned to be what he is today, the guild of the Death Angels Assassins.  It had been many years since he stepped foot in the ancient Ji Chu Temple from which he was raised.  Knowing there was a code of honor there, Morte knew he would be in no danger of an ambush or a trap, the monks would not allow it.  However, one thing did bother him, for Gambler to be on ground in the Death Angels Assassin Guild, Master Soonsiet would have given him permission to lure the dark ninja into battle.  Morte had passed the expectations set by the monks from training thousands of assassins throughout human history, but he did betray the code.  Was this a test, or did his former brotheren want him dead.  Either way the Practitioner of Precision would not bow out to no man.  Once he traveled to North Western China in the Tien Shan region, the memories began to surface.  The training, the lifestyle, the discipline and responsiblities, he remembered everything.  As soon as he reached the Ji Chu Temple, his demeanor changed, Gambler was inside with the Death Angels Assassin Guild waiting for his arrival.  He made his way up the stone path, and reached the gigantic corridor which opened for him to reveal his greatest nemesis standing in the great hall.

As he patiently awaited thee arrival of the Deadliest Man on Earth, Gambler took the time to educate himself with his surroundings. He was surprised to learn that the mild mannered sect, was in fact a guild of assassins. Who for years had operated unabated as they strived to make the World a better place while withholding to a strong unbreakable code of ethics. A code Morte had broken when he set forth on a trail of revenge. A story that eerily mirrored that of the smooth talking Cajun. Having been branded a traitor by his father’s guild, the King of Kings knew all to well what heavy heart his advisory carried with him.

The celestial temple rested high in the North Western Tien Shan mountain range of . Just on the border of . Years earlier a mild Earthquake had destroyed several of the Ji Chu Temple’s sacred statues outlining its foundation. Surprisingly the damage only helped enhance the mystique of the cultural artifacts. Gambler was amazed by not only the principles in which the Death Angels lived by, but the technology and philosophies they had seemingly intertwined. However the Monks had forbidden the outsider from witnessing many of their customs and rituals. In fact the Creole assassin was accompanied by a small entourage at all times.

He tried to imagine growing up in such a place. Surrounded by strong structure and a dedication to perfection. Two principles he had little respect for. With the ability to copy any move caught by his gaze, Gambler could simply mimic perfection without ever understanding what it took to achieve it. A blessing and a curse. But much like the Practitioner of Precision, the Living Legend had crafted and stylized his own form, his own technique. Both where flawless. At least in the arrogant mind of the Cajun. In his first encounter with the Master of Martial Arts, his ruthlessness had allowed him to manipulate the battle. Throwing innocent bystanders in harms way praying upon the heroes duty to protect those who could not protect themselves. Their second battle had seen the LaS captain cut down by a single well placed Katana strike to the back of his knees. Two battles, two different outcomes.

Both assassins had come along way since those early battles. It was time to settle up, and death would be the tie breaker. Gambler slowly removed the hood of his black LaS cloak, while slightly unsheathing the Citadel crafted Katana his wife had had custom made. Lights from the temple’s alters reflected off the exquisite blade before it was once again ushered back into its leather covered in-scripted home. A little twinkle gleamed in the ruby red eyes of the Cajun just as the massive corridors to the illustrious temple swung open.

“I am here my friend, shall we begin?”

No witty comeback or slanderous remark escaped the lips of the focused villain as he whirled around and charged. Clutching his sheathed weapon in his right hand he seemingly skipped across the floor of the great hall. While in full stride Gambler flicked the wrist of his left hand producing a single kinetically charged card. Holding the staple of his offensive between two finger’s, he suddenly and surprisingly hurled the card behind him while remaining  focused on his target ahead. With amazing agility he vaulted himself up an over the Death Angel assassin in a corkscrew flip that mirrored his teammate, Tenjin. His blade was unsheathed and slicing through the air towards Morte’s back simultaneously as his feet touched the ground. It was on.

It wasn't the type of homecoming the former Death Angels Assassin would have wanted, his former brethren standing against him, his greatest nemesis as well as one of the greatest assassins the world had known both waiting to watch him die.  As he made his way up to the enormous corridor that marked the entrance to the mystical Ji Chu Temple, he felt something he hadn't felt since his very first mission many years ago.  This feeling was anxiety, the man whom the silent assassin respected and honored most would be there to witness him combating the Living Legend Gambler.  This man was Master Soonsiet and he was Morte's sensei since he was 4 years old, not only did he teach him martial arts, strategy, and philosophy, but he also was there to show the young assassin how to be a man.  Soonsiet was the closest thing to a father Morte had ever known.  Gambler now had intimate knowledge of Morte's sensei and origin, this was reason enough the kill the Cajun. 



The Temple was grand, you could feel the history and tradition laced within its walls, the ancient Mongolian text depicted on the entrance way gave a sense of pride to the dark warrior; it was the creed he lived by as a child.  As the door swung open, he could see the reflection of ceremonial torches gleaming elegantly against the centuries old marble that encompassed the great hall from floor to ceiling.  The monks were all hooded, when two assassins from one guild engaged in combat, it was written that all monks who witnessed the battle cover the face in order to hide emotion.  A Death Angels Assassin must be in control of their emotion at all time.  Gambler was not a part of this guild, but he shared in the craft and was honored as such.  Morte walked through two giant pillars which marked the entrance way.  The Master of Martial Arts locked eyes on his Creole opposition as he was standing at the other end; there was no witty dialogue, or sly attempt at psychological warfare by the smooth talking Cajun.  He slowly removed his cloaked hood which was marked with his LAS alliance, and eyed his mark fiercely.  This was not the same man Morte remembered, the years of war and family had made its mark on the Living Legend.  He seemed more intense and focused, at least visually.  The two of them stood defiantly across from each other as if they were silently greeting one another with ill intent.



There were no civilians, no authority’s hindering, just two men ready to spill some blood.   Gambler was first on the offensive.  The Cajun slowly unsheathed his custom Katana causing a flash reflection from the burning torches, his blade however was not visible, and it seemed he sheathed it once the light betrayed his intention.  This prompted the Analytical Assassin to recall his Diamente Katana preparing to cross blades yet again with the LAS associate.



"I am here my friend, shall we begin?"



Gambler wasted no time; he darted across the immaculate floor with astonishing speed heading toward the onetime Mobb Deep Affiliate, his footing so precise he did not produce any sound.  While in full sprint, Morte could see the Creole whip one of his patented cards out and charge it kinetically with his left hand while he gripped his blade with his right.  The dark ninja then drew his Katana and assumed a Kasumi no Kamae Kenjutsu posture while his right foot pointed toward his opponent and transitioning a majority of his weight to his left leg in a defensive horse like stance.  Much to the assassin’s surprise, the Cajun hurled the card behind himself and continued to engage.  The King of Kings continued toward Morte and leaped into the air an amazing display of agile coordination performing a corkscrew flipping maneuver to re-position directly behind the Practitioner of Precision.  The kinetic charge which had seemed to be discarded while Gambler was engaging exploded, but before the blast could expand the energy from it was refocused and dispersed by Master Soonsiet outside of the temple causing a tremor to shake the foundation.  He was standing on a balcony overlooking both warriors battle and nuetralized the blast to protect his students.  Morte looked across the hall in the split second in which this took place to see Soonsiet retract the visible energy particles back into his body.  Soonsiet's compressional abilities were much more powerful than his own.  Because of the blast Morte could barely adjust his Katana into a Daijodan defense by positioning his blade across his back to counter Gambler's attack.  The King of Kings sliced across the Living Weapons upper torso, even though Morte's blade was there to parry the attack, the reaction was not fast enough.  The tip of Gamblers blade made contact ripping through his opponent's gi whipping blood through the air with the momentum of his sword.

It was Jean Luc who drew first blood, after his attack Morte performed a one handed roundhouse maneuver to re-position himself in front of his enemy.  Visibly angered because of his new wound, the ninja focused on his mark.  Continuing with his Kenjutsu sword play the silent assassin began to stalk his opposition in a Gedan Katana style closing the distance.  Morte quickly swung his blade at Gambler with a furious diagonal slash.  While keeping the momentum of this initial attack he spun around while reversing the grip on his Katana following it up in a fluid motion as the ninja repeated the same diagonal slash with his sword as it was braced against his forearm up to his shoulder.  The Practitioner of Precision performed this assault with astounding speed; he was now in a low stance with his right leg almost fully extended while crouching on his left foot, his sword at the ready, preparing to go on the offensive once more.


The monks continued to watch as the two brilliantly performed the respected art of bladed combat.

A perfectly executed Daijodan defenses maneuver wasn’t enough to keep the lighting fast strike of the Death Dealer from drawing first blood. However, before the hand stitched section of the Analytical Assassin’s Gi hit the hardwood Mongolian tile, he was on the counter offensive. Utilizing a one handed roundoff  to create separation, Morte quickly regained his footing and composure. Immediately his feet slid into position. Adjusting his demeanor giving himself the proper posture for a Geden defensive Katana stance, he moved forward. Arrogantly the Cajun stood slightly sideways, chin held high, Katana tucked under his arm and behind his back. Had the Monk’s faces been visible Gambler would have seen their distain for his lack of discipline.

Relying solely on his speed and agility, the cocky assassin blocked the first diagonal slash by spinning his blade up from under his arm with a stylish one handed counter strike. But this time the King of King’s lack of proper form would cost him. Morte spun around with the full force of his momentum behind him. While at the same time subtly readjusting his hands for optimum precision. Even Gambler wasn’t fast enough to rotate his blade into position before being sliced from his lower jaw, across his face, and up his forehead. Blood  began to run down the sideways wound staggering the LaS captain as he slid backwards.

A sick almost twisted bloody smile started to form on the injured face of the villain. If he survived the battle he would forever wear the scar like a badge of honor. Whichever one walked or was carried away from this war alive would truly be considered the best of the best. A bold claim, but one that would have been earned none the less. His emotions now under control, the Cajun exhaled, before spinning his blade into a Chudan no Kamae position. His left toe was now directly behind his right heal, his right knee was bent while his left was straight, but not locked. His hands firmly grasped the grip of his blade, slightly twisted inwards as if preparing a Chakin tea ceremony. Of course Gambler understood none of the technique. He didn’t need to. Simply by witnessing the master swordsmanship of his wife, and head of the LaS Council, Esther Cotillard LeBeau, he could perfectly duplicate the proper technique.

The temple was the perfect backdrop for this dual of fates. The ghosts of former great Death Angel’s seemed to swirl throughout the catacombs and halls of the majestic temple. As if even they to wanted to bare witness to this classic confrontation. Suddenly the brief pause was over. Morte shot up out of his stylish crouch, while Gambler sprang into a running hop. Metal clashing against metal echoed around the ancient pillars and walls of the Great Hall. Slash, duck, block, cartwheel flip, spinning attack, twirling counter, back and forth the two assassins went. Neither gaining an inch, neither giving one. Elegant, graceful, stylish, none of these words would begin to describe the scene. Their swords violently clashed together as both men now stood just inches apart. Before both pushing off to create separation. Using the momentum Gambler began flipping backwards into a series of backhandsprings.

“You always where dee better swordsmen. But let us try a new game no.” smirked the King of Kings.

With a wicked smile Gambler slightly turned his attention to one of the massive pillars holding up the ceiling. Without warning his hand shot forward immediately causing it to tremble before eventually collapsing it with his telekinetic abilities. Dust and debris started to fall as an entire section of the ceiling caved in. Several of the Death Angel’s where crushed beneath the collapsing stone. Gambler had violated the honor bound tradition of the Monk’s sanctuary, and he couldn’t have been happier.

“Maybe now u pick up dee pace mon ami”

The Great Hall of the Ji Chu Temple was now the theatre for one of the most amazing displays of martial art prowess.  The two bitter warriors executed several sword styles and combat forms creating an elaborate show of physical poetry only they could perform.  Dozens of Death Angels Assassins witnessed the sparks from the blades making contact while the radiant flashes reflected off the charismatic eyes of Gambler and the dark empty eyes of Morte Rapida.   They both engaged each other violently with astonishing precision constantly shifting from offensive to defensive positions looking to catch the other slipping.  The battle was going back and forth, neither yielding for the other.  As the fight progressed, the Practitioner of Precision's swordsmanship began to show its slight edge, almost catching the Cajun on a few exchanges.  The LaS associate suddenly began to quickly back flip away to create distance.....

“You always where dee better swordsmen. But let us try a new game no.” smirked the King of Kings.

Jean Luc knew of his strengths and weaknesses in regards to who he was conflicting with, in this case when it came to the blade, as good as he was, Morte was slightly better.  They both knew the Creole was far more powerful.  In the past he wanted to beat the former Death Angel Assassin at his own game, that tactic proved to be unsuccessful.  Morte knew Gambler's one true weakness was his pride.  The Creole could use his telekinesis or Kinetic abilities and have a far larger advantage, but instead he would rather attack his enemy’s strengths.  It was an admirable quality in character that showed Gambler truly has no fear.  Morte is far outmatched when it comes to the Living Legends mutant abilities.  Once the Cajun decides to rely on his advantages, the battle would no longer be in the ninja's favor. Gamblers offensive arsenal outclassed the Master of Martial Arts. 




After the cocky assassin created space from his adversary, he lifted his hand to direct his kinetic abilities toward the gigantic pillars that supported the Ji Chu Temple.  They all began to vibrate intensely while visibly cracking from the base before collapsing causing large stone fractures and slabs of the Mongolian Marble to come hurling down in the great hall.   Many of the young Death Angels Assassins were trapped once the pillars gave way.   It is common knowledge that skilled warriors use their environments to their favor; they make it a weapon in itself.  The temple was a place of sentimental value for the usual calculative executioner known as Morte Rapida, this was not a wise choice for a battleground for him.  Any place that draws emotion will subtract focus; Gambler was now intelligently utilizing the environmental aspect against the Analytical Assassin.  The sly Cajun smiled as Morte ran over to help his fellow Death Angels by trying to uncover the tons of debris covering them.  As his back was turned, 4 students of his famed Master Soonsiet stormed him, all of them attacking using various styles of striking arts including Muay Thai, Kuntao, and Silat.  The first cloaked assassin connected with a running flying knee which knocked the ninja into the rubble.  The other 3 began to throw flurries of hooks and elbows which tactfully targeted the throat, ribs, and temple of the famed assassin trying to bring him down.  Morte was able to regain his positioning after being slammed into the fallen debris.  Using his superior speed and coordination he was able to defend all four attackers' blows.  He threw a Dim Mak concussion palm strike toward the upper abdomen of the Death Angel who caught him with the flying knee crushing his sternum causing his clavicles and ribs to collapse onto his internal organs.  Morte then slipped an uppercut thrown by the 2nd assassin and executed a Hung Gar elbow to the temple instantly rendering the man unconscious while transitioning beside the 3rd attacker.  The last two of the cloaked assassins were much more skilled.  The Practitioner of Precision couldn’t get off any offense because he had no opportunity when defending and deflecting all of their attacks.  They both were unrelenting backing the former hero up with multiple strikes,  Morte was displaying his expertise amazingly by not allowing the them to land any blows why cautiously trying to keep a lock on Gambler across the hall.




Master Soonsiet jumped from his balcony from which he was monitoring the battle landing gracefully between the Living Legend and the Living Weapon.  He could see that his protégé had his hands full with his newest pupils.  So he looked over at Gambler.....



"You have destroyed my temple; you have killed my students....my children.  You will not leave here tonight" - Soonsiet



Master Soonsiet was the oldest living Death Angel Assassin; he wore a white robe which depicted Chinese literature in forgotten hanzi characters.  He turned sideways and lifted his arm with his palm facing up.  A white fog began to rise in the broken temple, it seemed to contain some type of visible energy, it looked as if electricity bolted through the haze snapping violently creating neon blue and bright white flashes as it surrounded the old man.  Soonsiets eyes began to fill with this energy while they started illuminating with the same neon blue that was radiating beneath the fog like vapor that had risen from the floor.  Morte watched as he was still defending against the two assassins who were attacking him.  The Practitioner of Precision took a deep breath, then dropped down into a Capoeira stance and quickly postured his body into a S-Dobrado leg sweep forcing both men to jump to avoid the attack, once they did Morte executed a swift Au Giratoria which is a Capoeria move in which you twist your body while transitioning into a hand stance causing your body to spin rather quickly while your legs spread to make contact with your opponent.  The dark ninja used all his upper body strength to spin his lower body with great velocity.  His technique proved successful as both feet connected with both his targets sending them to the floor.  Using the momentum from the difficult attack he popped up to his feet to see his sensei ready to do battle.  Master Soonsiet glanced over to see that Morte defeated his latest graduates.  Soonsiet diverted his attention from the deadly Cajun and began to engage his former star pupil and deadliest of the Death Angel Assassins.




"You see what you have done; do you see what your betrayal has caused?  Honor is the most important lesson from which I teach, did I fail you in learning the meaning of that?  You had a responsibility, you had a brotherhood.  Now you truly are death my son.  I created you, and now I must end you before you use the gifts I bestowed you to do harm to more innocence.  You were the best of us and would have been the one to take my place, now I am saddened to be the one to deny you of what you could have become.  Let’s see how good you really are young Rixon Sole." - Soonsiet




"You never failed me Master; I just see the world differently.  I was never meant to do what you do, my heart is to dark, but I will always have the fortitude to do what is needed.  Not the way you want, but the way I feel is right.  My fight is not with you; let me finish what I came to do.  Then we can settle up my shidoshi." - Morte




"No Rixon, you shouldn't have come here....." - Soonsiet




Soonsiet teleported into hand to hand range with Morte and assumed a Wing Chun form.  The mystical energy laced fog began to gather around the two of them.  The most powerful of the Death Angels had begun to engage the Analytical Assassin.   Soonsiets moves were lightning fast and insanely accurate, he was so in tuned with his compressional energy that every time he made contact with Morte the energy would disperse off his body.  The student was barely fast enough to keep up with the teacher.   Soonsiet switched multiple styles with ease confusing Morte with the speed of his attacks.  Soonsiet had one hand behind his back using the tips of his fingers on his other hand in a flawless Dim Mak fashion landing blow after blow to the upper abdomen of his former student as Morte tried to block and deflect the attacks.  The dark ninja dipped down into a back handspring launching himself backward to create distance to try and regain his focus.  He could barely breathe; his insides felt like ground meat, Soonsiet was systematically taking him apart.   Between Gambler, the assassins, and now his teacher, Morte began to feel the effects of battle.




"In time the student surpasses the teacher, if you wouldn't have strayed the path God chose for you, the saying would have been proven true in your case.  You still have lots to learn Rixon, It would have been my greatest honor to complete your training." - Soonsiet




"I am not defeated; I am not the same man who left your guild those years ago." - Morte




Morte closed the distance and began to engage Soonsiet, he was using a modified Jeet Kune Do stance bouncing loosely eyeing his mentor with deep determination.  Morte closed in with a left jab and followed with a crisp left body kick before bouncing out and circling his opponent.  Soonsiet was able to deflect the attacks, but seemed unimpressed with the lack of discipline.  Morte closed in once again bouncing like a lightweight boxer this time with a left hook to the body and a quick flurry targeting the chin and jaw of his teacher.  Soonsiet once again was able to deflect the combinations and used an eagle claw type technique and swung at his former protégé with his right hand.  Morte instantly grabbed the wrist of the original Death Angel as he committed to the eagle claw attack and raised his foot over Soonisets arm to quickly delivere two kicks openly to his face causing his masters head to jerk backward.  He quickly released his grip on Soonsiets wrist allowing him to spin his right leg around while transitioning into a crouch type posture, continuing with the fluidity of movement he swept his former teacher causing the old man to slam to the ground.




The Living Weapon looked over his fallen Master, and then suddenly out of the corner of his eye he could see the bodies of several young assassins in training strewn throughout the hall leaving a path to where his greatest nemesis was standing before Soonsiet challenged him.  Morte quickly scanned his environment looking for the deadly Cajun; he had plenty of time to set up for next attack.........

Honor demanded retribution for the villainous attack on the sacred temple. Once again the Living Legend stood defiantly with his blade folded underneath his arm awaiting the Monk’s unbridled fury. Surprisingly however the practitioner of harmony’s attention was only briefly centered on the Cajun. Instead it seemed the ancient leader of the Death Angel’s still harbored feelings of betrayal for his greatest achievement, who was also his greatest failure. Perched high above in the balcony he subtle gestured. Instantly four of his students converged on the Living Weapon launching themselves into a series of complex martial arts maneuvers. Their style was offensive oriented. Each strike a blend of power and precision, targeting specific areas of the body with the intention of bringing the Living Weapon down.

Gambler’s eye’s sharpened as he witnessed the breathtaking battle unfold. The speed and accuracy in which the students attacked with was a testament to their rigorous training regime. So many different combat philosophies where on display. Yet they had seemingly been transformed into one proficient and deadly art form. So skilled where the Monk’s students, they managed to briefly circumvent the Analytical Assassin’s defenses. Landing a well placed flying knee which sent Gambler’s adversary backwards into a pile of rubble. Quickly regaining his bearings Morte threw himself back into the fray. Slipping punches and side stepping kicks before unleashing his own brand of offensive brilliance. After dispatching the first two students, he was quickly besieged by the last more formidable two.

Lost in the moment Gambler seemed memorized. So much so, that he never heard the student coming up from behind him. Suddenly he was grabbed around the arm from the back. Acting purely on instincts the LaS affiliate rolled his shoulder which allowed him to slip his arm out while turning into his opponent. Both men where now locked in a intense grapple, neither one gaining an advantage as they struggled in a high tie up. In a flash the Living Legend shifted his left forearm into the bend of the Death Angel’s right arm, using the maneuver to keep his arm in close to his chest. He then stepped forward with his left foot before bringing his right leg up placing his shin along the students ribcage with his knee tucked up under his assailant’s right arm. Operating purely off his photographic reflexes, Gambler jumped into the air still locked up with the Death Angel. Rotating his torso to the right like a cartwheel the Cajun’s pivot point became his sternum. He then swung his left leg around the bewildered student’s head before grabbing his neck as he became inverted. He now had the head of the assassin captured between the bend of his left leg. Gravity took over as Gambler braced for impact. He held his head up and arched his back allowing his shoulders to roll as he slammed to the unforgiving ground. Extending his legs and tweaking his hips, he brought the student down to the ground with his arm fully outstretched. With a quick wrench of the arm the student screamed out in pain as it was dislocated immediately.

The King of King’s and just flawlessly executed a flying armbar. A high risk maneuver reserved for only the most skilled Brazilian Jiu Jitsu practitioners. Still the move failed in comparison to that of Morte and his former guild. They where operating on an entirely different level of hand to hand combat. And for reason unknown they couldn’t be duplicated. Perhaps the style held certain properties of the mystic elements. Or maybe it was something deeper. Something spiritual that could only be obtain through dedication and an understanding of a bigger purpose. Either way, Gambler was unlikely to ever see these moves again.

He rolled backwards away from the disabled student before performing a no handed kip up. Nonchalantly he walked over and retrieved his weapon. Turning back to face the defeated man still clutching his arm he cracked a smile. One deadly swipe of the blade cut the assassin from his head to his midsection. A quick flick of the wrist cleared the blade of any remaining blood. By now Morte and the masterful Monk where engaged in what could only be described as an epic display of combat. Each movement was executed with maximum efficiency. The Living Weapon systematically scrolled through what seemed to be a never ending library of invitation as he went toe to toe with his master.

Several younger students stood in awe as they looked around at the destruction. Their attention soon focused on the man they believed to be partially responsible. Still in the early stages of their training, they had not yet mastered controlling their emotions. Wanting nothing more then to exact a pound of flesh from the Les Assassins Silencieux council member, they charged. It would prove to be a costly mistake. Flashing his hand forward the born native unleashed a telekinetic wave that blasted the small mob in all directions. Leaving their bodies scattered in a vile trail of death. It was time to bring this battle to a close once and for all. Displaying his unbelievable Pakour ability the LeBeau Legacy broke into an all out sprint. Leaping and bounding over and around the debris, scissor kicking over a downed pillars, diving into a summersaults over large blocks of concrete , and finally running up and along a wall filled with ancient inscriptions. Pushing off into a corkscrew flip that mimicked that of Akira Overdrive.

His sword was already twirling in his hand as he landed behind his arch-enemy and the man who had been like a father to him.

“Les anges de mort meurent maintenant !” [translated: The Death Angel’s die now]

And with that gambler thrust his blade into the back of Master Sooniest. Taking the rivalry to another level.

The sacred and historical Ji Chu Temple was in ruins.  The epic showdown between two of the world’s deadliest assassins had become much more complex, Gambler in his twisted mind frame upped the ante and made it personal.   The bodies of many young Death Angel Assassins who trained in the temple now littered the marble floor thanks to the maniacal Living Legend.  It was a battle that had been destructive to its surroundings as it often did when the King of Kings and the Practitioner of Precision faced off. 

Gambler had tried to test the former Death Angel Assassin in the ways of the blade, when that tactic became unsuccessful the Creole switched strategies.  He turned to a method from which he has benefited greatly; the art of manipulation.  The LAS Assassin was a master of mind games and could often break his enemies down mentally by using the emotional aspect of warfare against them.  His flair for the dramatic was the instrument in landing the most beneficial blow in the two death dealer’s colorful history when he took his enemy by the heart by destroying what he holds dear.  A mischievous smile formed across the face of the LAS associate as he stalked his new target unbeknown to his rival.

Before Morte could process what was unfolding around him he was being attacked by the man who had influenced him greatly in his life, the only person he had ever loved.  Master Soonsiet engaged his protégé with a sense of purpose.  The old man blamed the ninja for the demise of both his students, and the revealing of the Death Angels guild.  Even though it seemed unreal to comprehend the fact that his opposition was now his shidoshi, the Analytical Assassin was still able to gain the upper hand and put Soonsiet down temporarily.  This gave him the time to search his environment in an attempt to track his nemesis Gambler.  Morte shifted his focus for a split second to scan the temple, as he turned back around he was horrified to see the master of manipulation driving his katana into Soonsiet, the leader of the Death Angels Assassins body went limp causing him to fall to the floor.  Morte quickly darted to his teacher’s side holding his head up while clutching the bleeding wound.  Blood began to pool around the dark ninja’s hands; the gash created was too severe to slow the bleeding.  The blood was a reddish black shade which meant the Cajun’s blade had sliced through the liver.  Master Soonsiet was bleeding eternally while the toxin content within the liver rushed throughout his body.  The Living Weapon watched helplessly while his master coughed up blood, his pupils were dilated as if the life was visually leaving his body.  The great and honored assassin then struggled to speak to his former student……..

“Fate is a mysterious thing my son, you never know what it will grant you.  Fate is proof that God wants us to know control is an illusion; however….. destiny…. is in our hands.  Destiny is obtained by those who turn knowledge into ability.  I knew you would be present on the day my fate was sealed.  You were my greatest student, I have one request of you; please do not let our legacy die with me.  Do not let those who are unworthy control mans destiny.  There is another like you, he is one of the Sixth of our Death Angels, seek him out and continue his training so he can carry on our legacy……please Rixon.  Deep down I know you will find a way to make things right. “

“Yes Master, I will do as you ask.  Morte gently adjusted his sensei’s gi and placed his hand among Soonsiets forehead and recited a silent prayer as Soonsiet’s breathing began to get erratic.” -Morte Rapida

“Give me a warrior’s death so I can be with our ancestors my son.” - Master Soonsiet

Morte bowed his head in respect with a heavy heart while he was kneeling at his master’s side.  He pulled his coltello blade from a concealed ankle sash and placed his hand on the heart of his beloved master.  He paused briefly to take one last glance at the famed Death Angel. This was a man who had lived for hundreds of years; he had gained knowledge even the greatest minds of society’s history couldn’t come close to.  With all his wisdom and the power he wielded he was still kind and grounded which was evident through the warm demeanor he generated.  He demanded your respect and honor without having to acknowledge it.  It was a shame he had to die in this manner.  The Silent Assassin knew there would never be another like him, before his emotions totally took over him he quickly ran the blade between his teachers 4th and 5 lumbar rib and torqued the knife causing the left ventricle to be severed.  Soonsiet died quick and quietly, he took one last breathe and closed his eyes before passing to the next world.  Morte placed the blade into his teacher’s hands and crossed them on top of his chest.  He paused while giving his last respects, then turned his attention to the man responsible; he locked eyes on the Cajun and slowly stood up.

He stared with a hatred that had never filled the eyes of the emotionless executioner and then spoke to his master’s killer.

“Vengeance is what drives me now, I will never stop.  Everyone you ever cared about, everyone you have ever loved is now mine to deal with.  You have a child now don’t you?  Don’t you have a wife as well?  I am going to bleed them slowly in front of you; I am going to take your heart.  You wanted to take it to this level, now you will live with the consequences….. before I kill you.  Mercy is no longer an option." - Morte Rapida

After his speech, Morte focused intently on the Creole, the look in his eye was almost homicidal, there was no way he could mask his emotion this day.  A full second had gone by before the Methodical Mercenary went on the offensive.  He quickly flicked his wrist causing 3 cerchi discs to slide from his wrist sash into both of his hands.  Morte tossed the cerchi discs over Gamblers position in an arch like formation.  Once they exploded the ninja captured the radiating blast energy instantly and siphoned it to encompass his body.  The controlled force from the blast was now being manipulated by the assassin and he directed the energy around his limbs.  There was a vapor that glistened from his body as it seemed to route itself to the dark warriors hands, feet, and torso.  Morte gracefully positioned into the ancient Five Animal Style Kung Fu stances as he began to close the distance on his nemesis.  He transitioned from form to form as he adjusted his footing and gestured his arms allowing the mist to trace his movements which created a mystic like affect.   The dark ninja then immediately engaged Gambler, using the Shaolin Tiger form to start.  With the energy from the blast focused around his limbs, each attacks’ force was increased 10 fold.  He flawlessly executed the Golden Lion technique as he unleashed a flurry that utilized his palm and nails to rip away at the LAS Assassin.  To keep his enemy confused Morte quickly switched up styles to the Leopard and began an angular assault with immense speed and accuracy using the bridge of his hands and low kicks to keep the Cajun guessing.  While in the Leopard stance he executed a specialized punch called the phoenix eye in which a fist is formed with only the index knuckle protruding and he targeted a specific pressure point at the throat slightly off the esophagus between the tonsils.  Following the precision blow the Living Weapon switched to the Shaolin Snake and executed the Cobra form and threw a two knuckle jab toward Gamblers eye sockets while simultaneously targeting his left knee with a shin kick.  The Snake style succeeds in focusing on the weak points of the body, Morte was staying true to its form as he kept the pressure on his rival with unrelenting assaults.  While his limbs were cuffed with the focused energy from the cerchi discs, he knew that Gambler couldn’t last in close quarter combat.

The former Death Angels Assassin was high on rage and adrenaline, the contempt and revenge flowing through his body gave him a sense of empowerment, a feeling never released due to the deep conditioning for emotional control which was trained to be instinct.  As soon as the master martial artist felt he was going to dish out the fatal blow, he felt the presence of someone behind him, and then a sharp pain.  His body immediately gave out causing him to fall to his back.  Morte’s vision went blurry, but he kept his awareness, the figure standing above him looked all too familiar.  The pain was most likely caused by the katana the blurry figure was holding.  The man didn’t say anything, he just watched as Morte slowly lost his consciousness.  He could hear the beginning of the sentence the mysterious man began to speak…….

“My part of the bargain is done, make sure you come through or I’ll lay you out right beside him………….” - ?

The rest was darkness as Morte lied on the floor while Gambler and the familiar figure stood over him.

“My part of the bargain is done, make sure you come through or I’ll lay you out right beside him.  You know that we have to kill him now immediately after this is done.  You should not have killed his master the way you did.  He has unlimited resources and will not stop until both you and I are wiped from existence.  Keep your family close; these assassins you killed here today are only the ones who are in training. The rest of the established ones will all be gunning for you and I once they find out what happened.  There is another Sixth just like Morte, and he will definitely be coming after the both of us.  I hope you have this all figured out Cajun.  Japan will be taken care of, those were your words.  No more Yakuza, no more threats from the Arabs, and I want North Korea crushed.  Do we have a deal, or do I need to wake him back up and let him have you? ”