Kombat Incarnate by Dreamer

A/N- I don't have a clue how to rate fanfics. But since the following fic contains violence, strong language and the possibility of sexual content, I'm thinking this is at least the equivalent of a 15-rated movie. So, yeah, if anyone could fill me in on a ratings code I'd be grateful... And another thing, what does a betareader do?... *looks blank*

Disclaimer- I do not own Mortal Kombat's mythology, or any characters from the films mentioned (such as Lord Rayden). If I did, I wouldn't be parked in front of a computer writing this for no financial gain whatsoever. All none MK characters, however, are mine.

A/N2- I have no clue how long this fic is gonna end up being. So I'd better get cracking...

~ Chapter One: It's been a while ~

The year is 2236. Ten generations since Liu Kang beat the Sorceror Shang Tsung, the mortal realm known as Earth was once more in danger from the Outworld threat, who have regrouped since the death of the Emperor and returned to victory nine times.

The last tournament, held in 2217, had seen Earth's best fighters demolished. The generation's master of Animality had been slain by an Outworlder making his debut in the competition, and the young couple, the Bournes, Jonathan and Marie, had perished together, and leaving a month-old son to be looked after.

Lord Rayden smiled suddenly. Matthew Bourne was his biggest hope in the tenth crucial tournament. At nineteen, he was a canny fighter, a born leader, but inexperienced. All of this generation's fighters had no death match experience, which put them at a disadvantage to their Outworld counterparts. These mortal fighters were little more than children, the oldest being 24, Matthew himself the youngest...

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The blindfold covered the boy's eyes, but appeared not to affect his movements. His shoulder-length brown hair was tied back loosely with a piece of black twine, showing off the sapphire and silver stud piercing the top of his left ear. His chest was bare, glistening with sweat as if he'd been working in this room, a large gymnasium, for some time. A dragon symbol, tattooed on his shoulder was the only visible mark on his body; neither a scar nor a bruise dared to stain this boy's body. His feet were also bare, but his trousers were black, with a deep red belt. He was surrounded by three lower immortals, who circled round him, quarterstaffs in their hands. The boy was unarmed.

One of the opponents swung his staff to knock the boy off his feet. The boy jumped over the swing, kicking out at a second opponent and gritting his teeth as a third immortal's staff was stopped in full swing by his left hand, which curled into a fist around the weapon, pulling it from it's owners grip. A fourth immortal called a halt to the proceedings quite quickly.

It was Lord Rayden.

The three lower immortals fell down and kow-towed before their superior. The boy merely removed his blindfold, revealing glazed over ice blue eyes.

"I still don't know why you insist on wearing a blindfold when you train, Matthew," Lord Rayden smiled his cryptic smile. "Nor why you show no respect to one who has raised you as his own."

Matthew's return smile was so similar to his guardian's it was uncanny. "The blindfold makes it easier for my training partner, Lord. And since when did teenagers respect their parents?"

"You're a smartass, Matthew Bourne."

"Yup."

~ Chapter Two: The Gathering ~

"Hey, you, boy!" The tone was patronising and condescending, it's owner a harsh 23-year-old trying to impress a girl.

Matthew turned to face the caller, and raised an eyebrow above his reflective sunglasses. "You talking to me?"

"Who does it look like I'm talking to, the Anti-Christ? Move my bags for me, boy."

"Move them yourself," a voice came from behind the guy. Matthew's one time sparring partner, Allie Lewis, had come into the hall area. She was a couple of inches shorter than Matthew now, still a year older, but they had been training for this tournament together as soon as Lord Rayden trusted Matthew's senses. She was strikingly beautiful, and the guy's jaw dropped as she walked up to Matthew and kissed him on the cheek.

"Hey Allie. Long time no win," Matthew grinned.

"I'd kick your ass now, Matty, and you know it."

Silence fell upon the hall. In all, there were 25 mortal combatants. Matthew, still standing, bowed his head in a quick nod as the other 24 entrants dropped to their knees. A bolt of lightening just singed the top of where his head had been. Matthew still stood.

"I believe we are all gathered," Lord Rayden's voice rang out. "You have tonight to make your acquaintances, tomorrow we sail for the island. I'll leave you to it." With a clap of thunder, Rayden disappeared.

"Melodramatic, but it worked," Matthew shrugged.

The 25 mortals filed through to the dining hall. The cocky guy with the luggage problem immediately took the seat at the head of the table. The team leader's seat. Matthew's seat. Matthew walked the length of the table, Sadie guiding his steps under her breath, and cocked his head to one side.

"You're in my seat," he said.

"Nuh-uh. This is the team leader's seat. You're too young to be team leader."

"Too young? I'm too young? What's age got to do with it? I'm the appointed leader, and you are in my seat."

"My young ward is right." Rayden's voice echoed around the hall, it's source unclear. "You are in his seat, Master Jackson, and I would move if I were you. He gets dangerously good when he's threatened, even if the one doing the threatening is unaware of the fact that he is considered a threat. Very wolfish, young Matthew is."

"Guardian, you're talking like Yoda again," Matthew called out. "You've been watching too much Star Wars again."

Master Jackson looked at Matthew funnily, but being blind Matthew failed to notice. Eventually, he stood up, and took the seat to Matthew's left Allie having occupied the seat to his right. Matthew stood in front of his seat, and held up the glass pressed into his hand by Allie. "Let's eat," he suggested, taking his seat.

~ Chapter Three: Making Acquaintances ~

Twenty-five of us, Matthew mused. Twenty-four new voices and scents to learn, in one night. Well, twenty-three, Allie was already well known to him, although her voice had changed a little since they had last seen... well, met, one another. Still, six years training up the next generation of fighters had definitely taken its toll on her voice. And her smell? Cool and refreshing, like a cool breeze off the sea.

Master Jackson, now, he smelt of sweat, so Rayden had obviously found him pumping iron in jail somewhere. Well, maybe not jail, Matthew conceded. His voice had hints of the upper class in it, hints of money, of the private laws that governed the rich. Still, there was that body builder's edge to him, he was a rich kid who knew the meaning of the word work