Seizing the chance to raid Quan Chi's personal chambers while he was busy training his student in the arts of kombat and deception, the undead assassin Hanzo Hasashi, better known by the codename Scorpion, was weary at every second of magical wards and barriers to prevent intrusion and traps to ensnare any foolish enough to pry in the necromancer's private affairs. However, he was a ninja, and his drive was great, so there was little that could prevent him from fulfilling his objectives, whatever they may be. He was positive that the sorcerer was hiding something, and he was determined to uncover whatever it was. Everyone cared for something, and even the blackest of souls had dreams that could be tied to something material, so there must have been something that Quan Chi did not want any one else to know of...
Ordinarily, Scorpion would not have cared one way or another what the necromancer held dear, but he had it in good authority that he was in fact hiding something, and though he had had no proof of it, it could have been related to the massacre of the Shirai Ryu. He had slain their killer in Mortal Kombat, and yet he was still there, a void in him that he could not explain, and a constant pull that seemed to lead nowhere. Something was not right...
And so he had decided to take it upon himself to investigate the sorcerer, in order to hopefully answer these questions burning in his veins like molten fire. Waiting in the shadows for the malicious man to depart this section of the structure at the appointed time, absolutely certain that he would be gone for at least an hour, Scorpion waited by the door for a solid minute before turning to the simple wooden frame, the symbols of his rank carved into the door. Placing his palm to the handle-less opening, he felt the skin beneath his glove freeze over on the inside for the briefest of moments. As soon as the door opened to allow entrance, the remaining flesh grew lukewarm once more.
"I wouldn't," A voice whispered at his back, soft and quite clearly feminine, "Quan Chi's magic prevents admittance without the proper proof."
Leering at the young woman before him, angered and shocked that she had been able to sneak up on him without him detecting her presence sooner, the ninja assassin had no time to think up an excuse for this blatant intrusion, choosing to say nothing instead, "..."
Glancing over her shoulder to be sure that they were alone, the girl held out her wrist, the seemingly bare flesh barely raised in intricate markings, and she held it into the doorway, "You should be fine now. Besides the master and his student, only the maids and harlots are permitted to enter, but they shouldn't be much trouble for a soul like you." She explained as if he had asked her, "Oh, and there are three eyes; one below and two above, and they always keep on the move, but a slight poke should stun them long enough for you to go about your business." She looked sideways at the chain he wore and the kunai attached to it, "But I take it it should be little problem for you. So long as you're careful, no one should be any wiser."
Bowing her head at him out of respect, she was gone just as soon as he was about to question her, "Why...? She's gone. An apparition of the sorcerer's no doubt..." He didn't like that it had appeared, assuming that it was either intended as an alarm or perhaps a trap, but either way this was his only chance to search for clues, and he was not so willing to just give that up over a spook. Besides, what if that servant girl had been real? But is she was, he pondered aloud, "Why help me?"
No matter. Time was short, and only getting shorter by the second, so there was no time to dawdle about, attempting to surmise what he had encountered. Bracing himself, the masked figure strolled into the room, hand ready at the hilt of his Mugai Ryu. Although he suspected that Quan Chi would have had a small brothel all his own, the women all dead and awaiting replacement, he was surprised to find that as opposed to being the first thing to greet the formidable manipulator, they were located in a room off to the side and hidden behind a shimmering red veil. Though the reek of corpses was far more noticeable in the sorcerer's chambers than in the rest of the Netherrelam, there was also another scent in the air, wafting like a breath of air after hours beneath the dark depths of the ocean, though it was unfamiliar to him.
Curious as to what that could mean, he tried to find the source, but it seemed to be coming from the very air itself, drifting through the otherwise stagnant air. At a loss for the smell - a part him wanted to say that there was something floral about it, but so far as he knew, there were no flowering plants to be found in the realm - he chose to move on and examine the skeletal throne emerging dead-center from the ground in the main room. Nothing.
Gathering that the room pungent in filth and whores would be a waste of his time, Scorpion tried his luck at the vestibule at the right. It was a wise decision on his part, as the moment he made to move from his place by the throne, he noticed a flicker of movement beneath the weary ivory. Wondering for a moment more about the mysterious help he had received, deciding that it must have been a despondent maid, he shot his kunai at the scurrying critter, reeling it in for a closer look at his main opposition. An seemingly ordinary eyeball, it was hideously blood-shot, the retinas in the back hanging uselessly, eight hair-like legs poking out at various angles. He wanted to squish the pathetic creature in his hand and put it out of its misery, but it was best not to leave a trace in the event that the maid had been truthful, so he rotated his hand, allowing it to fall back on to the cold stone. He kept a sharp eye out for any more of the watching monsters, dealing with them appropriately upon their discovery...
Going from dead end to dead end, Scorpion found himself standing inside of a room lined with tomes from all of the realms - even those worlds that have been lost for milennia. Creating mazes that were always on the move, several of the volumes sorted themselves out, floating through the air in a wake of wicked sage. Among these was a space for study and plotting, crammed with notes, a light hovering dimly over hand-written pages. Figuring this to be the best place to find what he was looking for, Scorpion strode over to it.
Strange, the words seemed to vanish before his eyes as soon as he read them, faint ashy scorch marks mimicking the words before blowing away, leaving nothing in their wake. Of course the sorcerer would not make it so easy to discover his secrets, whatever they may be...
Taking a fresh scroll-paper from its place by the ornate pot of blood-ink, he held it up to the light to make sure that there were no markings on it, and positive that no traces of use were to be found, he turned to a random page assorted on the desk. Quicker than his namesake, Scorpion pressed the former flesh flat, and using a technique similar to to the art of pressing flowers, took the imprint from whatever document he had selected.
However, before he had the chance to pry it apart and verify the success of his plan, he could feel that Quan Chi and another were returning to his chambers. Rolling the page up and stashing it on his person, the avenging demon lamented that he had wasted so much of his time merely trying doors that lead nowhere and searching through personal content that yielded no insight as to what the necromancer could be hiding. Dashing from the library and slipping down the hall in a flash of bright yellow, he found himself very quickly at the exit, standing opposite of Quan Chi himself! The maid from earlier was with him, although something felt different about her energy...
For one heart-stopping second, all seemed lost, but then something extraordinary happened - Quan Chi was turning away from his chambers and heading away, the maid in tow. Scorpion could hear her on the other side of the door, making some kind of an excuse, and before he could exhale, they were gone. He had no idea how she had so easily convinced the sorcerer into following her, but she had accomplished it somehow. What puzzled him more than that, however, was why she had helped him, no less twice in the same day...
A/N: So here's the second half of what I promised you! Hopefully those curious enough to even glance at the first chapter read this one too, but only time will tell, I suppose. Anyways, maybe its just me, but this seems unpolished. Not bad and horrible unpolished, but rough and rushed. Maybe its just me though. Maybe it's just because I had this chapter written out without having to test it five different ways? Anyways, the request I ask of you reviewing still applies (and will for the entirety of this story, regardless of whether or not I directly mention it or not).
Disclaimer: I don't own Mortal Kombat. That honor goes elsewhere. Like (but no limited) to Netherrealm Studios, the WB (or whatever they're calling themselves over at Warner Brothers), and Ed Boon. There might be more, but I'm no lawyer, and I'm certainly not versed in ownership rights, so I don't know exactly who owns what. I can, however, lay claim to Zyanya and the mystery maid, and I do.