"Too slow, Frankenstein!"
Flipping clear over her opponent's shoulder rush and kicking off his back, Juri Han was having a blast toying with this musclebound meathead. She knew from the dossier Bison forced her to skim on the trip over that this guy was named Bryan Fury, and that the ugly hunk of metal which just careened off with the dickish dictator himself was something called a "Jack". She trusted that little old Bison could handle the tin can by himself. If he got his ticket punched right now, then Juri wouldn't get to take that Pandora thing they were here for and shove it so far up his-
Juri was late to react against Bryan's backhand; meaning that it only missed by one county mile instead of two.
Fury was not always so... well, furious. He once had a fairly mundane life, until a devastating event and a few rounds of less-than-ethical scientific experimentation turned him into an artificial, superhuman psychopath. In many ways he was a mirror to Juri herself. And yet, in a few key areas, they were different as night and day.
One of the more obvious ones was on full display here, much to Juri's amusement. Her male counterpart, in typical male fashion, went for power and toughness at the expense of damn near everything else. But being able to hit like a truck means little if you also move like one, and Juri had been hard at work whittling him down as his mighty blows mightily whiffed over and over. Sure, it would take a lot to really hurt the putz, but it was only a matter of time until damage built up enough and she got more out of him than that stupid little chuckle.
Ducking below the fist, Juri shot a straight kick right into his jaw. Satisfied with how her opponent's head whipped upwards as he staggered, she started to draw back her foot for another go only to find it already trapped.
Too late had she remembered a very important detail of her mission. True, they were here for the box, but that was far from the only item of value. Pieces of the meteorite it rode down in had broken off and dispersed upon atmospheric entry; dubbed "Power Gems", they had strange properties which could enhance a fighter under the right circumstances. Some could improve strength, some could grant more stamina, some could even help channel energy.
Bryan Fury looked down on Juri Han -- holding her in place via his grip on her extended ankle -- and did that annoying chuckle again. Oh, and he also happened to be glowing like the heart of an emerald sun. Juri Han, with her last strike, had finally "popped" a massive cache of speed Power Gems hidden in his ammo pouches.
The following movement was too quick for Juri to follow, but she certainly felt it as Bryan's free hand came up to uppercut her right in the crotch. The tank-puncturing force of his blow all but disintegrated Han's pelvis inside her, to say nothing about less hardy features of note in the surrounding area.
Bryan let go and allowed Juri to drop, only to catch her head on the way down and slam it into one of his knees. Either by plan or just dumb luck the brunt of the blow landed on Han's left orbital, annihilating the prosthetic eye which supplied Juri with her powers and the socket that contained it in equal measure.
Juri was allowed to recoil back and, now physically unable to support her own weight even if she wasn't concussed, crumpled into a sloppy sitting kneel.
Juri's one good eye stared up at her "opponent" with glassy terror, as what was left of her mind after the trauma and shrapnel alit with fury and horror. This can't happen. Not while Bison still lived. She had so much left to do. No, dammit! No!
Chuckling yet again, Bryan brought a boot up to Juri's chest and slowly pushed her down to the ground. Han herself, despite the fires raging inside, could only weakly paw at his leg as she was forced onto her back.
There was another important difference between the two. Bryan, in typical male fashion, did not give a single damn about foreplay. As Juri's dominator mounted her she knew that there would be no games, no taunts, no second chances. He was simply going to pound her, as hard and as long as he could, until he was satisfied and she was nothing.
The first few punches went low, destroying her collarbone and causing her to choke on pooling viscera. The next round, landing on her temple, finally broke something important inside and what was left of her vision went out. Clearly in her final spasms, she was now gone to the world, but even then she was still conscious. And for an agonizingly timeless span she had nothing but darkness, the crunches of her own face caving in, and that infuriating chuckle for company.
Goddamn... gems... she managed to think to herself just before everything wound to a halt.