“I came to delete you,” Jin replied.
He didn't punch. He remembered .
Lars picked up the pieces. “What was on it?”
Inside the simulation, the world was a perfect replica of Fallen Colony. The sky was a bruised purple. And standing in the middle of the rubble was him —a Jin Kazama from an aborted timeline, his eyes hollow, his Devil form barely contained under cracked skin.
Every night, the server replayed the fall of Azazel. Every dawn, the ghost of his younger self lost again.
“I came to delete you,” Jin replied.
He didn't punch. He remembered .
Lars picked up the pieces. “What was on it?”
Inside the simulation, the world was a perfect replica of Fallen Colony. The sky was a bruised purple. And standing in the middle of the rubble was him —a Jin Kazama from an aborted timeline, his eyes hollow, his Devil form barely contained under cracked skin.
Every night, the server replayed the fall of Azazel. Every dawn, the ghost of his younger self lost again.