March 3rd, 2024.
Deacon City.
A scream echoed throughout the streets of Deacon City.
Gunshots rang out.
Sirens blared.
It was another day in Deacon.
A man stirred in a hotel room.
The same dream again, Kenshi thought.
He groaned and sat up on the bed. It was hard and stiff, but he couldn't ask for much else. He hardly had any money left, and the motel was the cheapest he could find in Deacon City. He reached out in front of him, the bruises and scars leaving his body a wreck.
His hand finally grasped the sword scabbard in front of him. He opened his eyes, but even then, he still could not see.
When Kenshi was a child, he was in an accident, taking his eyesight away. A horizontal scar from his right to left temple over his eyes was the most prominent feature on his face. Pale blue circles were the only indication of an iris and pupil, long since faded. If someone were to pay enough attention to his eyes, they would be puzzled to notice a slight glow to it. Blinded since childhood, he knew how to deal with the loss of his eyesight.
That was why he had the sword, Sento. When he gained hold of it, a pulse was sent out. A vague blue outline of the object in the room appeared to him, although the exact details were lost. Kenshi scratched the thick stubble on his chin before slowly getting to his feet. The pain from the night before took its tool on him, making movement hard.
Sento soon starting working its magic, allowing Kenshi to "see" a rough outline of the room. Details were nonexistent to him, but he could move around now. And he immediately limped towards the mini-fridge. Opening the door and feeling the cool air brush against his shirtless body, he reached for a bottle. He gave it a quick sniff before putting it back and grabbing another. This one would do, he decided. He pupped open the bottle and took a few swigs.
The alcohol burned his throat, but it also dulled the pain the rest of his body was feeling. Placing the bottle back in the fridge, he felt his stomach. The stomach bandages were dirty again. Kenshi peeled the cloth away, letting it fall to the ground. He limped towards the bathroom, only stopping briefly to steady himself against a dresser. He pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to fight the headache he was quickly getting.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, it was times like these that Kenshi was happy that he couldn't see. The state of his body was probably not a sight one would wish to see. He applies some medical alcohol and new bandages on the wound. This was a daily occurrence at this point, he thought to himself. He stumbled out of the bedroom, grabbed a t-shirt, and slowly pulled it over his head.
The next step on his daily routine was to grab his jacket. As he walked over towards the coat rack, he grabbed the small pile of crumpled up bills. Feeling the texture of each, he could tell he had a ten, a twenty, and a few ones.
He needed cash, he decided.
Kenshi slung Sento over his right shoulder and threw on his black, triple-cut long coat. It fit snugly to his frame, obscuring all of Sento with the exception of it's handle over his back. He reached into one of the pockets and pulled out a pair of red sunglasses.
After putting them on, he stepped out of the doorway.
A few hours later.
Kenshi had been in Deacon City for about six years at this point.
His journey had brought him hear when someone told him what he was seeking was holed up in this city. He spent the bulk of his remaining money to book a plane ticket. He barely had any money left for a place to live.
He was fortunate to find a roommate that let him live there, out of pity or kindness, he wasn't sure. It didn't matter either way. At first he expected to not take long. No doubt his target would up and move to another city, and he would chase them.
Six months after he moved to Deacon, the trail ran cold.
There was nothing. No one told him anything, either because they were loyal or they didn't know. He never stopped searching. At that time, he had started to form a bond with his roommate.
He helped Kenshi get a job, so he could start paying the bills about a month after he moved in. His roommate even learned everything that had happened to him, including why he carried around Sento and why he was blind. That was information he did not share lightly.
After about a year of no information regarding his target, Kenshi slowly started unraveling. He was getting drunk more often, he stopped taking care of himself, he was fired from his job. Eventually, enough was enough, and he was kicked out.
Kenshi blamed only himself. No matter what low point he was at in life, he never lashed out at others. Especially not those who helped him through the highs and lows of his life.
But he had almost completely burned all of those bridges. Not out of malice or spite. Out of a want to protect them from his own self-destructive habits. Despite that, he doubted he would be easily forgiven for pushing people away, for shutting them out, for lashing out at them. But maybe, just maybe, he could find a way back into their live when he was done.
Kenshi had to believe that, anyway. It was all he had left.
Now, though, he was wondering throughout the city.
His quest was not over. He needed the closure he was seeking, but he had no idea where to start. He hadn't for the past five years.
Pedestrians on the street, what few there were, at any rate, paid no mind to the average-sized man in a dark jacket and a sword strapped to his back. They had more important problems to worry about, like losing their jobs and getting mugged for asking why he had a sword on his back.
So far, nothing piqued Kenshi's interest. Barely any activity was going on in the city. Hell, overall, it was a relatively quiet day. At least, nothing in the area. There were a few things going on a few blocks away, but he wouldn't be able to get there in time.
As a result, his let his mind wander. It dulled his senses, but it gave him time to think. The only thing he was good for, really.
If he hadn't dulled his mind, he would have heard a woman fleeing for her life.
She dropped from a nearby fire-escape onto a pile of garbage. It hurt like hell, but she didn't have time to think about that. Quickly rolling away onto her feet, the woman began sprinting down the alley. Voices above shouted, "The bitch is this way!"
Behind her, the woman heard some more bodies drop from the escape, but she paid them no mind. The woman simply sprinted full out, making a sharp left when she got out of the alley.
The woman was Chinese, wearing tank-top doused in sweat from running. Her long, brown hair was tied tightly into a bun, to keep from her pursuers from grabbing ahold of it. He amber eyes darted around, looking for any escape route. The backpack on her back bounced up in down, even as she clutched it for dear life.
She quickly turned into another alley. She noticed across the street, into the next alley, an opening to climb into another building. After that, she would be able to lose them. The woman dared to glance back behind her.
That was her fatal mistake.
In an instant, she crashed into someone, both of them spilling onto the floor. She looked down at a Japanese-American man wearing a pair of red sunglasses, clutching his head. She wasn't able to focus much longer, as she already heard her pressures catching up. Somehow they managed to get in front of her, as well, encircling both her and the hapless civilian. There were six of them in total at this point.
"Well, would ye' look at that," the head thug slurred out. "All that running and you just bump into this loser. Now, that is some funny shit."
"Why are you chasing me?!" the woman practically cried out. "I haven't done anything to you!"
"It's not what you did to us, little lady, it's what you did to the boss."
"I don't know who that is!" she shouted.
"Move."
The civilian had gotten to his feet, swaying slightly. He placed a fingerless-gloved hand on the woman's shoulder. Kenshi stumbled forward.
"I'll take care of this."
"What?" was the almost unanimous reply.
"Let the girl go. I don't want to hurt any of you," Kenshi plainly stated.
"Are you fuckin' serious?" the thug asked. He pulled out a knife that was strapped to boot and walked up to Kenshi. The two were only inches apart now. "You can barely stand, what can you-" he pointed at the blind man "-do to all of us?"
"Don't say I didn't warn you," Kenshi replied. He then took a deep breath.
Then he slammed his open palm against the thug's chest. A blue light came from Kenshi's palm, and what would've normally only knocked the wind out of someone's chest, sent the victim back about eight feet. The thug slammed into another, both now sprawled out on the ground.
Everyone was now frozen in disbelief at the newcomer. Kenshi pulled off his sunglasses and presented them to the woman on the ground. "Hold these."
"O-Ok," she numbly replied, taking them.
Without wasting another second, Kenshi reached out and used his power to grab some nearby garbage and threw it at the thugs. Using the distraction presented to him, he pulled out the sword in a flash, rushing towards the nearest man. To normal observer, they only would have noticed a flash of light. In actuality, Kenshi had sliced off a man's forearm and sent him back with a telekinetic push.
The group had managed to regain their wits and started descending upon Kenshi. He pulled a thug with a knife close, using him as a human shield. The shield absorbed some bullets for him. With that no longer being of use, he sent the sword towards the man who was shooting at him, using his telekinetic powers to make sure the sharp end went into the guys head.
He then pushed his now-spent-shield into another man, following it with a few punches to the sternum. Hearing the cracks in the bone from his assault, he pulled back his sword and sliced the man vertically in half. The two halves hadn't even flopped to the ground before Kenshi was moving on.
He was practically on top of the last two thugs. He smashed his foot on the underling's skull, hearing the crunch of bone, before he leveled his sword at the leader. He pressed the sword until it only just broke the skin of his neck, letting a trickle of blood pour down.
He looked back at the woman. "Are you okay?"
She was still wide-eyed in shock at the slaughter she saw before. Kenshi could sense the rate of her heartbeat and wasn't at all surprised when she passed out. "Hmm." He turned back to face his now-captive. "Now, on to you."
The thug was clearly terrified now. His forehead was damp with sweat now. Kenshi asked, "Why were you chasing the girl."
"I don't know a goddamn thing," was the reply.
Shaking his head, Kenshi gave a solid kick to the thug's head. The blow wasn't nearly as hard as the one he gave the other guy, but enough to send him to the side. He reached out and grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him up to his feet.
"I'm going to ask you one more time," Kenshi said. "Why were you…" He trailed off.
What was this? Kenshi felt around the thug's neckline with his fingers. He was wearing a necklace, that much Kenshi could tell, and there was a pendent tied to it. The emblem seemed… familiar. Old memories were being tugged at. The cloth of the shirt was getting in the way, however.
"The fuck are you doing?"
He placed the thug down. "Give me the necklace."
"What?!"
Kenshi leveled the sword. "Do it."
There wasn't anymore convincing needed. The thug quickly handed off the string around his neck, backpedaling when Kenshi quickly swiped away. Without moving the sword away, he felt up the emblem. He'd seen this symbol before. Seen it, back when he had vision. But where?
It was in the overall shape of a circle, but there were three, smaller circles in each third of the larger shape. In the center, he felt an upside down triangle, each point matching up with the smaller circles. No, Kenshi thought, it couldn't be…
A kick to the chest sent the thug onto his back once again. Before he could react, Kenshi was already on top of him, placing his foot firmly on the sternum.
"Do you know what this pendant is?"
"What are you-?"
"DO YOU?!"
The thug's terrified expression seemed to soften. Kenshi heard his heartbeat slow down ever so slightly. There was still a pang of fear in the air, but almost accepting.
"So it is you. Figured you died along with your disgrace of a father."
"Where is he?"
"Like I have a fucking clue," the thug replied. "You think we're tight? That I have a direct line? No. You want him? You'll have to find him." He spat out some blood. "Maybe that bitch could help you."
"Duly noted," Kenshi replied. He could tell he was being told the entirety of the truth, at least to the extent this individual could tell. That meant this thug was no longer useful.
In the blink of an eye, Kenshi decapitated the man, barely flinching at the thud of the head. He flicked his sword, the blood flying off of it. He placed it back into his sheath before turning to the unconscious woman.
She hadn't yet stirred, Kenshi noted. Her heartbeat was neither increasing nor decreasing. All of her pursuers were either dead or unconscious, so she should be fine until she wakes up. Still, she's an attractive woman out cold on the streets of Deacon City. That's going to cause a problem.
The thought of bringing her to the hospital almost crossed Kenshi's mind, but he pushed that aside. No, he was covered in blood, and dropping off an unconscious woman in that state wouldn't be waved away.
He sighed. Kenshi did know someone to whom he could answer those questions, but it's been a few years. Still, worth a shot.
He picked up the sunglasses and placed them back on his head before scooping up the woman in a bridal carry. Even as he was making his way, one thought kept nagging at the back of his mind.
What did this woman have to do with the Lin Keui?
A/N: Hey, been a while hasn't it?
If you're a long time reader of my stuff, you might be wondering why I'm doing a full blown continuity reboot instead of doing Mortal Kombat: Finality. I go into that more in my profile, which I implore anyone reading to give a look, but to put it short, I find this project much more interesting.
And as an added thing I want to say, I plan for this to be a one and done fic. No spin-offs, no sequels, nothing. Once this is over, no more of these iterations of the characters.
Well, with that said, I'm happy you could join me for the ride. I hope it's a good one.
Spino, out.
