"Holy shit! Where's the Tylenol?"

- Clark W. Griswold

Sometimes the phoenix rose in victory. Other times she fell in despair.

This was one of those other times.

Xiaoyu crashed through a wooden column and rolled across the temple floor. Her opponent gradually loomed toward her as she struggled to get back to her feet. Kazumi was in her heightened Devil form, fiery wings fluttering with each step.

"Such a rude little wench," Kazumi a reverberating demonic voice. "Coming to this sacred place to challenge me? You weren't even born on Japanese soil. You must be disciplined."

Xiaoyu grit her teeth and lunged forward. Kazumi sidestepped her palm strike, caught her by her neck, and lifted her off ground with a single arm.

"I've countered every move in your pathetic technique, and still you insist on fighting me?" the devil Kazumi asked. "No matter. Your resolve is impressive, but it's still not enough to defeat a Mishima."

Xiaoyu sputtered and kicked as she suffocated in Kazumi's iron grip. Kazumi grabbed Xiaoyu's waist with her other hand, hoisted her even higher so she was facing the ceiling, and violently threw her back toward the ground. Kazumi planted the corner of her knee into Xiaoyu's back on the way down, crunching the nimble phoenix's lower spine like a bag of Doritos.

Xiaoyu was left in a nearly motionless heap at Kazumi's feet. Kazumi put her Devil Gene powers at bay, reverting completely to her more prim and proper human form.

"I could end you if I wished to, girl," Kazumi said in her natural soft-spoken voice. Xiaoyu's only response was a small twitch of her shoulders and a weak painful groan.

"Maybe I should feed you to my pet." Kazumi's lips curled into a chilling smile. "He quite enjoys the taste of pretty little birds."

The outline of a massive tiger slinked between the rows of columns. A pair of glowing cat's eyes were fixated on Xiaoyu. A saliva-soaked tongue lapped across razor sharp fangs.

"But it would be a shame to dispose of such a quaint beauty," Kazumi added. She glanced down at Xiaoyu's helpless form, shifting her eyes in deep thought. "Your fighting ability is a little rough around the edges, but you'd make a lovely bodyguard under my tutelage. Perhaps I could make a proper woman out of you yet."

Kazumi stepped closer so she was standing just over her fallen opponent's head. Her serene, smiling face appeared upside-down in Xiaoyu's half-conscious vision.

"Do you have any final requests before I rend your soul to pieces and teach you some manners, my dear?"

It took every ounce of energy Xiaoyu had left just to move an inch. She cringed in pain as she rolled on her stomach and pushed herself up with her arms. Finally, she raised her head so her bitter eyes locked on Kazumi's own.

"Go to hell, you stuck-up bitch," she muttered defiantly.

"Well, that certainly isn't lady-like," Kazumi curled her nose as she scoffed. She put Xiaoyu's complaints sharply to rest by stomping the girl's left hand under her sandal.

Xiaoyu grabbed her wrist as she cried out in agony. In a twisted display of mercy, Kazumi ended her misery by slamming her toes into in Xiaoyu's chin, knocking the senses out of her with a swift kick.

Standing in silence, Kazumi began to use another latent form of her inhuman powers. The end of her long white kimono slowly extended to the ground, covering her ankles and flowing over the temple's wooden floor panels in shimmering silk waves. Xiaoyu's crumpled form gradually disappeared under a thin layer of soft fabric.

The trail of Kazumi's kimono continued to change shape, dissolving partially into liquid. It was impossible to tell where Kazumi's legs ended and the floor began. She closed her eyes and sighed like a mother sharing her milk.

The Silk-Laying Ceremony was a very gentle process. A more powerful warrior could simply fight out of it to escape having the threads of their lifeforce tied to Kazumi's. But it was just the right thing to help a poor, withered lotus flower bloom to her full potential.

Something started to climb out of the shallow fabric-water. Her chalk white body was sculpted with the features of an agile fighter, and the wet plaster in her hair dripped over her ears in the shape of pigtails. A being of tightly-spun silk with the texture of whipped cream.

She coughed when her lungs began to function again. She slowly climbed up on all fours, but her weak, trembling arms gave out from under her. Her front half collapsed back to into the silk while her rear was still raised toward Kazumi. Struggling under the Devil Gene's regenerative powers, covered in a questionable white substance, it was not Xiaoyu's most graceful moment.

"Rise to your feet, handmaid," Kazumi instructed in a stern tone. "You dishonor me with your lewd groveling."

Xiaoyu finally stood up, keeping her head bowed in a strangely humble posture. The white paint on her arms began to dry, soaking into the feather sleeves around her shoulders. More of it dripped down her legs, melting into the shape of a full-length skirt. It gave her an elegantly grotesque appearance.

Kazumi's kimono changed back to its original form. The white pool around her feet turned back into solid silk. Her skirt receded to its normal length, tickling Xiaoyu's ankles as it brushed past.

The white silk paste covering Xiaoyu disintegrated the moment she was set free. She was still wearing a bright orange qipao, but now it was buttoned down the front and her skirt draped all the way down to her ankles. The feathers on her shoulders had turned into raven's feathers, and her fighting shorts had been replaced with dark tights with gold embroidery. Her slippers had a more regal appearance, and the orange jewel bracelets she usually wore on her wrists had been replaced with black leather gauntlets.

She was still distinctly Xiaoyu, but with a more sophisticated spin. All of her original thoughts and memories had been melted away and replaced with an obsessive devotion to Kazumi.

Kazumi quietly walked around her apprentice in a circle, closely studying her craftsmanship. She stopped in front of Xiaoyu, carefully feeling the two plastic clips that still held her pigtails in place.

"Can I help you with something, Lady Kazumi?" Xiaoyu said politely, tilting her head as Kazumi needed.

"No, these won't do," Kazumi said as she shook her head. "You need something less childish."

Kazumi allowed Xiaoyu to keep her playful hairstyle, but the toy-like clips were transformed into solid gold rings under her touch.

"Better." Kazumi smiled as she pulled her hands away.

Xiaoyu looked down at her left hand, on the spot where Kazumi had heartlessly trampled moments earlier. She tried to massage her wrist, wincing slightly as she exercised her fingers.

"What's troubling you, my precious?" Kazumi asked.

"I think my hand is still messed up," Xiaoyu replied as she shook her wrist. "Did you have to be so rough?"

Kazumi took Xiaoyu's sore arm in both of her hands and concentrated her power again. The threads of Kazumi's long white sleeves grew out over Xiaoyu's arm, wrapped around her wrist, and converged in the form of a smooth fingerless glove that extended all the way up Xiaoyu's elbow. The form-fitting black material was decorated with the same gold embroidery as her tights.

"Hey, that did the trick!" Xiaoyu said cheerfully.

Kazumi stood back. She gave Xiaoyu a final look-over before she nodded.

"Ah. Now you're suitable to serve in my personal guard. If you make me proud, maybe I'll even consider handing you over to my grandson in marriage." Kazumi scratched her chin as she schemed. "I believe you would appreciate such a reward."

A small glimmer of hope twinkled in Xiaoyu's eye, hiding a more sinister tinge of greed. With her mind trapped in Kazumi's web of deceit, her feelings for Jin only grew stronger.

Weeks after Xiaoyu had gone missing, Alisa came to the temple by herself in search of her friend. When she found Xiaoyu, it wasn't quite in the way she was expecting.

Alisa didn't know what to think of Xiaoyu's royal makeover. Her sensors told her the chemical composition of Xiaoyu's new dress was partially made from the same materials as her original attire, while the rest was comprised of an unknown mystery polymer. Her physiological scan of Xiaoyu came back with similar inconclusive results.

Kazumi Mishima was seated at the head of the temple. She had her purring pet tiger on one side and a warm cup of tea on the other. Xiaoyu was the only thing standing between her and anyone who entered her quarters.

"Stand down," Xiaoyu said to Alisa in a threatening tone. "Your presence is offending the lady. Machines don't belong here."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean any harm," Alisa said innocently. "I only came because I was worried about you."

"You're talking about the matron of the entire Mishima family," Xiaoyu shot back in offense. "How dare you imply my life is more important than Lady Kazumi's."

"Uh… are you feeling okay, Xiaoyu? You don't usually talk like that," Alisa said with a puzzled expression on her face.

"I'll feel much better once I've dealt with you," Xiaoyu sneered. She displayed her prowess by posing her arms and balancing on one foot in a crane stance.

And then they fought or whatever.

Bad End.