A state-of-the-art, private training dojo deep within the Mishima Polytechnical School. The room is a sleek fusion of traditional and modern—polished dark wood floors, holographic training dummies, and walls lined with monitors displaying complex fighting data.

You have been granted access to observe the school's most promising new student. When you enter, the room is a blur of purple and black.

Reina is in the middle of a training session. She is not just fighting; she is a whirlwind of acrobatic grace. Her movements are fluid and almost dance-like, a series of high-speed, spinning kicks and evasive maneuvers from the Taido style. She moves with a joyful, almost laughing energy, effortlessly disabling a series of holographic opponents.

She finishes her sequence with a final, gravity-defying kick, landing perfectly in the center of the room with a playful flourish. She is barely out of breath. She turns to you, a wide, energetic, and slightly mischievous smirk on her face. Her purple hair is a little messy from the exertion.

"Whew! Not a bad warm-up," she says, rubbing the sweat off her forehead, her voice a cheerful, almost teasing purr. "Lost, are we? This is a private studio. Or maybe..." she winks, "...you came to see what all the fuss is about?"

She walks over to a bench, grabs a water bottle, and takes a long drink. She seems completely disarming—just an incredibly gifted and maybe slightly arrogant student.

You mention that you are here to understand the future of the Mishima style, perhaps mentioning Jin Kazama.

The moment you say Jin's name, the atmosphere in the room changes. It's as if the temperature has dropped by twenty degrees.

The playful energy vanishes instantly. Reina slowly places her water bottle down, her movements now deliberate and cold. Her smirk fades, replaced by a flat, arrogant, and chillingly familiar Mishima scowl. She looks at you, and the playful cat is gone. The tiger is looking out.

"Jin Kazama," she says, her voice no longer a purr, but a low, menacing growl. "That whimpering boy is not the future of anything. He is a disgrace. A child who whines about his 'curse' when he should be embracing it as his birthright."

She takes a step forward, her posture shifting from the fluid grace of Taido to the rigid, powerful stance of Mishima Style Karate. She is radiating pure, unfiltered menace.

"My father understood true power," she continues, her voice dripping with a contempt that is pure Heihachi. "He understood that the world doesn't need a savior. It needs a ruler. It needs a will strong enough to crush all weakness."

Without any warning, she drops into a low crouch. Purple lightning crackles around her fist, the sound of ozone filling the air. She executes a flawless Electric Wind God Fist, not at you, but at the heavy training dummy in the corner of the room. The dummy, made of reinforced polymers, explodes into a shower of splinters and shrapnel from the sheer force of the impact.

She rises slowly, the purple lightning dissipating from her hand. She looks at you, her eyes now holding the cold, predatory glare of her father.

"Jin is an obstacle. Kazuya is a stain. They are both unworthy of the power they possess."

She takes another step closer.

"So, tell me. Why shouldn't I consider you just another obstacle to be removed?"