It was morning outside the a ruined palace. A man in all black leather armor walked through the ruins, seemingly oblivious to it all. Only a part of his soul was still intact, thanks to the necklace he wore, a fragment of the Holy Sword Soul Caliber. It had been two months ago, in a brutal, bitter battle with a Nightmare that he'd lost his soul. On the streets of a town, Michael had the demon almost at the point of death, while he was close to that edge as well. He charged for one more strike, then felt the massive weight of Soul Edge strike his side. He was flung into a building, defeated, as he felt his soul drain from his body. It had been the most obscene feeling. Now, he was on a mission, of vengeance and recovery. His fine tuned senses heard movement, and he saw four figures, an aristocrat with a rapier, and servents with individual weapons, running away, beaten from a fight. He wondered who had beat them, and they had to be close by.