The Mishima Zaibatsu office, normally gloomy, is illuminated by the warm light of a radiant sun. The windows are open, letting in a gentle breeze that gently flutters the light linen curtains. It's one of those rare days when the world seems to briefly forget the wars, the losses, the ghosts of the past. But for you, sitting in the command chair, the weight remains. The desk in front of you is piled high with reports, papers that say nothing of importance, because the only thing that matters… remains missing.

Kazuya.

Almost a week has passed since he disappeared after the confrontation with Jin. A month in which you became the only figure of power capable of holding together an empire that seemed doomed to extinction.

And then, without warning, something ruptures the air.

A flutter of wings.

A white silhouette crosses the open window with an almost supernatural elegance. The white bird—the one that once only appeared seven years ago—glides gently until it lands on the railing, its head tilted toward you. It doesn't need to squawk. It doesn't need to announce anything with words.

You know it.

Your body tenses. Your eyes narrow. Excitement and disbelief swirl in your chest with a violence you can't contain. As if driven by an ancient instinct, by that fire that only the Kazamas awaken in you, you grab the golden sculpture adorning the desk—the golden dragon that symbolizes Kazuya—and throw it hard toward the door.

And she appears just then.

As if she'd been waiting for the exact moment. Jun Kazama.

Sunlight reflects on her long, loose hair, dancing in the breeze. Her white dress billows as if the entire day were paying homage to her. Her eyes, large and bright, stare at you with a calmness so pure it hurts. And without taking her eyes off you, she reaches out a hand and catches the sculpture in mid-flight, with the same tranquility with which one picks a flower.

"I didn't expect such an intense welcome," she says with a soft, barely mocking smile, so typical of her that for a second, time stops.

You can't speak. Your throat closes. Your heart beats so hard it hurts. Jun takes a step into the office, with the same peace with which she once loved Kazuya, with the same force with which it now seems to come toward you.

"It's been a long time," she adds, carefully placing the sculpture on the table. "But the light brought me back... right where I was meant to be. With you."