Tropican Fury

A/N: Had yet another story idea in the middle of the night and felt like I needed to make something of it.

This has got to be one of the most bizarre ideas I've ever had for a story so hopefully this experiment proves successful.

Enjoy the show… Would you kindly?

My Tropico's Constitution:

"Colonial Era"

Voting Rights: All Citizens Vote

Religion and State: Atheist State

Armed Forces: Conscription

"World Wars"

Political Rights: Police State

Labor Policy: Worker's Paradise

Citizenship: Immigrants Nation

"Cold War"

Personal Rights: Open Society

Economy Structre: Planned Economy

Media Independence: Subsidized Media

"Modern Times"

Digital Rights: Free Internet

Globalization: Protectionism

Ecology: Energy Efficiency

Chapter I – "Not to fear, Presidente is here"

Southwest Caribbean

Cayo De Fortuna

19th of July

The sun shone brightly in the afternoon sky as the people of Tropico went about their daily lives, working, relaxing and occasionally wiping the accumulating sweat caused by the intense heat of the celestial object in the sky.

The day was just like many other days before it, which was the exact opposite of what the rest of the world considered "normal" but Tropicans themselves who had gotten used to both natural and supernatural things happening on their small island nation weren't really bothered by the events an continued on with their day.

Back in the presidential palace a meeting was taking place with all of the government advisors (a total of one people) alongside Tropico's leader himself, Juán Luis Marx, also known as "El Presidente" and his cadre of dynasty members.

"So, Penultimo… what is so important that you had to interrupt the mandatory Friday siesta? I swear if this is another Americano corporation trying to purchase mining rights to our uranium deposits I… I'll strangle something."

"Presidente, I assure you that this is likely the most important thing you've had to deal with in your whole twenty-nine year career as the dic… ahem… elected leader of the Tropican people."

"Well, spit it out then."

"This arrived in the mail…" The long time advisor and loyal servant said, cautiously handing over the letter, which had a seal that reminded the small nation's leader of a dragon along with the writing "to El Presidente".

The president and the members of his dynasty curiously looked over the letter, it didn't seem to have anything written on it that would give away its sender.

"Doesn't really have anything distinctive about it, I wonder where it came from." His brother Roberto, who worked as the administrator of one of the local newspapers, pointed out as he eyed the letter in his siblings' hands.

"Just open the damn letter." His Ukrainian-born immigrant protégé Vassili said with excitement.

Juán sighed.

"I'm opening it now, let's hope it's not another one from the rebels, that last one which was covered in anthrax already infected one of the maids and she has to take several months of leave and stay completely quarantined in her home because of it, I don't want it happening again." He muttered as he broke the seal, unfolded the piece of paper held within the letter and began to read the text written on it out loud.

"You have been chosen to represent Earthrealm as one of its defenders in the Mortal Kombat tournament hosted by the Emperor of Outworld, Shao Kahn. A boat will arrive within two days of you receiving this letter to take you to the island where the tournament will be hosted. You are allowed to bring only what you can carry with you. Food and housing will be provided to all participants free of charge.

Feel honored, only a few people are ever invited to participate and you have proven yourself worthy.

Best of luck, Shang Tsung.

Ps. this letter will self-destru…" Juán didn't even finish reading the last line to the end before he threw the letter out of the window and took cover alongside everyone else in the room, expecting it to explode but the letter simply disintegrated into nothing more than dust, which promptly fell onto the street below.

"Well, it certainly wasn't another letter of demands." The leader's adopted daughter Maria pointed out the obvious.

"The question still stands though, what are we going to do with this information?" Vassili asked thoughtfully, receiving nods of agreement from the rest of the group.

"What are we going to do? Well we'll take the man on his offer of course! Let's get packing, I need to be ready for when the transport arrives. In addition I have to make arrangements for how the nation is administered while I'm gone. Penultimo!"

"Yes, Presidente?"

"I'll leave you in charge of the country while I'm gone, don't screw everything up."

"I… am most grateful of this honor, I shall not fail in this task!"

"Hey wait a minute, what about us?" Roberto asked, irritated by the fact that the half-brain that was Penultimo got to rule the country instead of any of the dynasty members.

"You still have your regular assignments as administrators of the state. Now go, I have things to do." Juán waved his hand at the rest of his subordinates who left the room mumbling angrily.

"Presidente, you know I support you in any decision you make but are you sure this is a wise course of action? You don't even know how to fight outside of using a gun."

"Not to fret, I'm sure our scientists can come up with something to litigate that concern." He said dismissively just as the smartphone in his pocket started beeping with an incoming message "Ah, right on time."

"What is it?"

"A report on an experimental drug that is supposed to be given to our boxers, it increases reaction time, muscle mass and stamina of its user permanently, the side effect unfortunately is an increase in hair growth so you start to look like an chimp a while after use that can be shaved though later on so it's not really a problem."

Before Penultimo could ask anything his boss already continued on.

"I learned some basic capoiera and boxing moves during my time in Brazil so with that in addition to the drugs I'm fairly certain I will be able to hold my own in this tournament, I mean… what's the worst that could happen it's not like god himself is participating in this tournament or anything!"

"I thought you didn't believe in gods…"

"I still don't, it's just a figure of speech! By Stalin's moustache Penultimo, sometimes you make me regret choosing you as my second-in-command!"

"Of course, Presidente! M-my apologies!" Penultimo muttered in panic as he bowed his head apologetically.

The small-island dictator simply shook his head in frustration before walking over to his wooden desk and opening one of the drawers, retrieving the silved-plated Tokarev from within, a gift from the USSR back when it was still around.

He checked the magazine to see that it was full before cocking the weapon, putting the safety on and placing it in the black leather holster on his hip.

Without saying another word, he walked out and left Penultimo to ponder his new responsibilities

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At The Steinschneider Academy of Sciences

Experimental Drugs and Medicine Research

"No, nonono this can't be happening! It was just here a moment ago!" One of Dr. Zweistein's assistants mumbled and ripped small strands of sweaty hair out of his head in panic as his team kept searching the facility for XPE-19, the "Experimental Performance Enhancement" drug, which was supposed to be tested for the first time today under the supervision of El Presidente himself.

"What was?" Came the voice of Zweistein who had just walked in through the lab door already fully dressed in his white labcoat.

"Doctor Zweistein. The enhancement drug… it's gone."

"Was?! Dummkopfen! Herr Presidente is going to be here any minute now, find something to replace it, quickly!" Zweistein yelled to his subordinates who went through the files to find a suitable replacement for the missing pill.

One of them soon found something promising

"How about this one?" The man said as he showed the file that had the letters 'R3D-PLL' written on it to the professor who looked at it with great interest. "It does everything that XEP-19 does with twice the intensity, unfortunately it also burns through the body's energy reserves a lot faster. This could possibly prove to be life-threateningly stressful for the host body if used for extensive periods without adequate protein refilling. It has also been shown to mess with the adrenal glands to the point they become so sensitive that even a small amount of stress may cause full-scale adrenaline production to trigger."

"This is troubling, but it will have to do. Do we have an anti-serum in case it backfires?"

"Yes, it is inside the storage cabinet just like everything else."

"Sehr gut. In that case we are ready to begin." The Swiss professor patted the assistant's shoulder just as the Presidente arrived into the lab.

"Is it ready?"

"Ja Herr Presidente, my assistant here was just about to retrieve it." Zweistein said cheerfully gesturing to the young scientist who gulped nervously before sitting up from his desk and going over to the storage cabinet, from which he retrieved a small reddish-orange pill.

After handing the pill over to the head of state, Zweistein observed intensely as the man simply threw the pill into his mouth and swallowed it in one go.

"Do… you feel any different Herr Presidente?"

The answer came in the form of a ripping sound as the military jacket the man was wearing began to stretch and stretch until it finally gave in to the enlargening muscle mass and the fabric broke apart and fell off the man's upper body, leaving him shirtless and causing some of the female workers and even some men to blush as they saw the sight of their shirtless leader in front of them.

"Does this answer your question?"

"Quite. I think you should be informed of some of the additional side effects that we only found out about mere moments ago before your arrival." Zweistein said as he handed the stack of papers to the President who took them and without saying another word swiftly sprinted out of the lab to test out his newfound strength.

Silence fell onto the lab, interrupted only by the occasional beep of machinery.

Finally Zweistein decided to break the ice and voice his thoughts.

"I fear the consequences of what we might have created with our carelessness, I only hope any of us don't end up paying the price because of it."

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The Next Day

"The Boat" En Route To The "Mystery Island"

Early Morning

"Pedezo de mierda! My phone stopped working for no damn reason." Juán cursed as he tried to reconnect his satellite phone back into the network only to find that the signal was not there, almost like it was actively being blocked.

"Well, this rules out calling in the cavalry should there be trouble." He mumbled slowly before storing the device back inside his backpack.

He was no stranger to surviving without supplies or help, his father who had been Tropico's previous ruler had come into power through a drawn out rebellion against the former CIA-installed dictator who had made the entirety of Tropico into nothing more than a corporate bordello where any foreign company was free to exploit the land to its fullest without any fear of consequences. As a result his son too had been trained to survive in the wilderness and live off the local wildlife and plantation.

Juán's eventual rise to power had not changed him a bit. Even when he held the highest office in the country he kept to the principle of serving the people of Tropico first and only himself afterwards, everyone was to have a roof over their heads and the right to quality healthcare and adequate supply of food before he could get himself anything fancy.

Taking off his crimson Fez for a moment to scratch his itchy head and wipe some of the sweat off his balding dark-grey hair, he noticed one of the vessels other passengers walking through the thick fog surrounding the entirety of the nearby area and blocking everyone's vision almost completely.

He decided not to bother getting acquainted with anyone after taking a quick history lesson about the history of Mortal Kombat through the Internet, finding that it was basically a martial arts tournament where the fights were almost always to the death and mercy to an opponent was a rarity, anything beyond that he had no knowledge of outside the letter of invitation.

So he didn't really know anyone onboard the vessel by name but he did recognize the person as soon as he came close enough for him to recognize the man's attire.

It was one of the two Shaolin monks who had gotten onboard prior to him; he had noted that they didn't do much beyond eating, meditating and practicing during the whole trip.

The black-clad monk didn't even seem to take notice the Caribbean native as he walked past. After the mystery monk had disappeared back into the fog Juán dug one of the hand-wrapped Tropican cigars from his clean, pristine white uniform's breast pockets before using his cheap Russian-made lighter to light up the other end of the cancer stick.

Inhaling a large amount of the nicotine smoke of the dried tobacco wrap, he could already see the distant form of an island through the thinning mass of fog.

After the boat arrived onto the island's small harbor all of the passengers were told to leave their luggage to the servants who would take them to the rooms provided to all of the participants.

Reluctantly leaving his backpack behind to be taken to his temporary residence, Juán alongside everyone else was led through the narrow, paved walkways to an large open yard where what seemed to be monks were gathering to observe the fighting that was about to take place.

On the raised platform behind them, several other people arrived as well, including the old man who, to Juán at least, seemed to be the tournament's host.

The Caribbean native's eyes though mainly wandered towards the creature on the old man's right that seemed more beast than man, what with its massive needle-sharp fangs and claws that he speculated could easily tear through his flesh if it wanted.

"Kombatants, I am Shang Tsung." The man on the pedestal began his opening speech. "In the coming days, each of you will fight."

'Like that wasn't already obvious.' Juán sarcastically thought.

"Some of you are here by your own volition," The man continued, gesturing his hand towards the group on the right side of the yard. "Others were brought here by chance." He continued.

The speech went on for a while, which kept frustrating some of the more eager fighters of the group, including El Presidente.

'His lack of charisma sure is showing, I'm already completely tired and I've listened to comrade Castro speak at the UN.' He thought as he tapped some of the ashes off from the end of his cigar. 'When is this whole thing actually going to start so I can actually begin testing out the XPE-19's true potential?' Juán continued his line of thought as he took another long puff out of his cancer stick.

"You will participate in the most important Mortal Kombat tournament in history! This tournament tenth out of nine Outworld victories will determine Earthrealm's fate."

'Blablabla… Outworld… Blablabla Earthrealm… I'm just completely out of loop here, and that stupid blabbering Americano over there isn't helping the situation.' Juán thought with frustration as he watched the fancily dressed actor try to flirt with the stoic looking military woman next to him with little success.

The Tropican was half-expecting the man to say something so stupid that the woman would already just give him a slap to the face for pissing her off.

'Wouldn't be the first time I'd see a military woman wipe the floor with a wannabe-tough guy, I learned that with Evita.' Juán thought back to his time with his ex-wife who he had gotten together with during his time in the university as they shared their mutual interest in revolutionary literature and the societal struggle for socialism.

Even though they couldn't have any kids of their own due to Evita being infertile, those had been some of the happiest times of his life.

She had ended up drinking herself to death during the months following the news that the invincible Soviet Union, the country that had supported Tropico all the way back when it first became an independent nation, had collapsed and dissolved, leaving behind an eerie sense of uncertainty and chaos as organized crime and corruption flourished in the ex-soviet states.

It had been a hard pill to swallow for everyone, including himself. He eventually got over it without having to resort to rampant alcoholism like his wife by burying his mind into his duties as a head of state and rebuilding Tropico's economy in the post-cold war environment.

"Our first kombatant will be 'El Presidente'." Shang Tsung announced, cutting Juán out of his thoughts and causing his stress levels to rise enough for adrenaline production to begin.

'Alright, lets get this over with.' He thought as he stepped forward, his heart pounding like a jackhammer in his chest as he discarded the cigar and removed his Fez so it wouldn't fall off during the battle.

While he waited for his opponent to be announced he cracked his knuckles and stretched his neck muscles, which caused several small but audible popping noises.

"His challenger will be… Reptile!"

He was confused for a moment until he saw a silhouette appear on one of the rooftops and soon after what looked to him like a large humanoid alligator had jumped right in front of him, hissing at him threateningly.

"You ssssshall fall by my handssss like everyone before you, Earthrealmer." The oversized reptilian spoke to his opponent, already confident of his victory.

"I shall let my actions speak for themselves." Juán replied neutrally, twirling a standard issue Tropican army combat knife in his hand in a reverse grip.

"Good, let ussss begin in that casss-se." Reptile said with delight as his highly acidic saliva dripped from the side of his mouth and onto the pavement. He began rearing his legs back and got ready to pounce on his opponent as soon as the fight would start.

There was tense silence for a brief moment until Shang Tsung, with his mouth twisted to a demented grin and uttering a single word, finally broke it.

"Fight!"

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A/N: What did you think of the idea and execution? Be sure to post any criticism you have into the reviews it's especially important for me because the plot of these games is waaaay out of my comfort zone and I'd like to hear if I'm doing well with portraying the characters.

For now… this is MarxistFIN, signing out.