Creation

Nevada

"Colonel, you awake still?" Kabal drearily asked.

The colonel was sifting through papers and documents as if he had no time to lose, the sweat on his brow was prominent under the lamp light, his pencil scribbling at the sheets. Stryker sighed sullenly, itched under his chin and turned to face the newly awoken scientist.

"Do you think we can win this war?"

"I...I think we can. I want to believe we can."

Stryker paused for thought and gripped the pencil tightly.

"These men we have are, quite frankly, amazing combat specialists. However they can't be everywhere at once. Guadalcanal is manageable for Scorpion and Smoke, sure. Stalingrad is something different entirely. Sub Zero is powerful but his conscience seems to get in the way."

Kabal sat up on the cobbled together bed, "They are all talented."

"Scorpion is the one who told me that. However, even he has a family but for some reason he has little regard for human life."

"Are you saying he's a sociopath or something?"

Stryker shook his head, "No, I don't think he is. He cares for his family but when he's out there, that bastard knows how to handle a situation!"

Kabal pulled on his shoes and walked to a filing cabinet. He pulled a key out to unlock it, ignoring numerous files until he got to Smoke's.

"Smoke; we tried to give him powers similar to Scorpion's, fire based. This didn't work and now we have a man with steam that can melt a persons skin off."

He reached for another file, "Reptile; he told us beforehand that he was capable of being stealthy and he had the ability to blend in with a crowd. We just gave him the same injection as Scorpion had and he suddenly began to secrete acid and became primarily carnivorous. He started to refuse anything other than a cooked steak.

Changing files again, he read the last one, "Sub Zero; same serum, wildly opposing result, ice based powers. We came to the conclusion that the serum creates different results in relation to different genes. So say for instance, we gave a genetic relative of Sub Zero or Scorpion the injection, the relative would provide similar results."

Stryker coughed and swallowed the information, his eyes had a glint in them before he turned back to his papers and wrote new ideas on fresh paper.

1939

Tomas Vrbada could hear the voices of his countrymen and women as they cried for help when the German's invaded. They could do nothing as they were beat for crying. Almost three years earlier a small group of himself and some friends had bumped into a German squad who were having a drink in an otherwise crowded bar. Despite the apologies the squad beat Tomas and his friends with the butts of their rifles, ignoring their pleas for mercy.

After exiting the pub, Tomas thought that they had been left to their own devices. He was wrong. The squad piled out of the pub and took him and his friends into the cellar, forcing them to sit on the old stools that rested below. Tied and gagged, they were left for several days until light shone through the opening doors. Much to their dismay, Tomas and his three friends were pushed into the back of a truck with other confused and lost people. Terror hung over them all. Arriving at a hastily constructed camp, the women and children were greeted by officials with clipboards as the four men were ferried in the other direction. Standing in the snow, the rope still tied their hands as their mouths were gagged. One by one they were lined up horizontally, their backs facing the German captain they had knocked accidentally and his prodigal private with a Karabiner 98k. He saw his friend on the far left be shot, his face scattered on the snow. The tension and their muffled screams rose quickly, his closest friend, Jiri, stared at him as he felt his own fate smash him the back of the skull.

Tomas felt his tears drop down his face as his last friend was killed, Miklos had held back his crying to die like the soldiers they were. Knowing his own fate, Tomas stood prepared to take the bullet. An angry German voice boomed over his own thoughts, the captain was shouting at his private as the Kar-98k jammed. Tomas saw his chance. He ran towards the forest ahead as fast as he could, his hands were tied but not his feet. He never looked back but he could picture the private vehemently attempting to aim and reload. Once he had stopped hearing voices he felt safe.

Guadalcanal

Smoke was shaken out of this daydream by Scorpion as they rode in the car. Bombs flew and disrupted the earth, shaking grass free from its confines. Scorpion had to laugh as he drove the vehicle at high speed, the rush of adrenaline kept him from making a wrong turn into the explosions and gunfire.

"Are you going to slow down at all?" Smoke shouted over the intensity.

"Not today. Oh and get ready to jump out in about ten seconds."

Smoke looked puzzled, "What?"

"Now!" Scorpion dived out of the car, disappearing from reality mere inches from the ground. Smoke vanished in a plume as the collision from the vehicle into the watchtower got a vicious response.

"Take this." Scorpion appeared behind two unlucky Japanese soldiers, cracking their heads into one another's with enough force to break their heads open.

"Hey, your mother's a whore," he said casually to another Imperial, blasting him open with a pistol.

Smoke burst back into reality on top of the now falling watchtower, the bunker directly underneath with angry Japanese troopers attempting to move.

"Oh God!" cried Smoke, his shaky illusion skills allowing him to surprise a kamikaze pilot hundreds of feet from his destination. The pilot cursed Smoke as he grasped for dear life on what little he had at hand. Deep blue ocean greeted his sight, oranges and blacks erupting into the sky, tiny muzzle flashes in the distance. He didn't have time for that though, he acted fast, firing a constant stream of heat from his palms directly into the propellers. Sunlight skimmed the rudders and peeked over the cockpit, the man inside praying to himself despite knowing what he was in for. The plane faltered, Smoke steamed up the glass as the melting propellers did little to give him time. The pilot tried desperately to gain sight back, just as Smoke's fist cracked through the glass and ripped the pilot from his seat. He screamed to the heavens as he fell to the sea beneath him, skimming the cold air before the wind tossed him side to side. The breeze grew stronger and the force of the plane swerving tore Smoke's hood off, leaving his face mask and his shoulder length black hair exposed to the clouds.

Smoke took a swan dive, shooting towards the water torpedo-like, he felt breathless as he altered his form, watching the plane careen in the direction of Japanese naval vessels. It exploded on impact, the clouds billowing vertically, Smoke's unintentional warning to other ships. An inch from the water he evaporated, unknowing of his next location.

Back on land, Scorpion waded through the palm trees, golden light shimmered through them, shadows being crafted on the fly with opposition running in his direction. He heard an order to fire at will, his reactions forcing him to transport behind the Imperial soldiers. Aiming the Thompson, he blasted two of them, their squad mates turning to see the imminent backlash that they had brought upon themselves. Throwing his spear at the far man, Scorpion tore a gaping wound in his stomach, the others looked in disbelief and wildly fired in his direction, almost afraid to kill the seemingly god-like being before their eyes. The Mortal once more took leave from his current position, hovering above the four remaining men for a second, he felt disoriented. Scorpion booted one of them to the dirt and took his rifle, shooting another dead and throwing the weapon at the other two. He sprinted over, smashing his fist into a jaw, kicking to the side and winding a torso. The remaining two men fell hard, Scorpion finishing them off quickly with the rifle. The unconscious booted member of that squad had his neck broken. Dizziness overcame the leader, he swayed ninety degrees, clasping his mask and pulling it downwards. Breathing heavily, Scorpion dropped to his knees and lay his palms flat on the fallen leaves, he began vomiting heavily.

"Scorpion?" Smoke called as he appeared only a few yards away. The grey one rested his right hand on his leaders shoulder.

"I-I'm fine Smoke...I was just...too fast I think...didn't give myself enough time t-" He stuttered, expelling the sick violently.

"Is that...blood?" Smoke noticed the sloshing red amongst the chunks.

"Don't worry. I feel okay now..." Scorpion kept exhaling and inhaling slowly to steady himself.

Smoke's eyes flickered with concern, "Positive?"

"Honestly. All good." Scorpion replied convincingly.

The two travelled on foot and saw the blazing wreckages around, bodies lay everywhere and medics patched up the injured. Smoke eyed an American officer muttering angrily at a group of prisoners, a pistol was given to the officer, he entered a rage, shooting the enemy soldiers point blank. Scorpion unclasped his canteen from its leather bearings, unscrewing the cap and gulping as much water as he needed. Smoke held his hand out, silently asking for a drink, as his squad mate, Scorpion obliged.

"How long before we get home?" Smoke said innocently.

"Soon Tomas. Soon."

A.N. Next chapter will focus on Sub Zero and Reptile's ongoing fight in Stalingrad. Thanks for all your support so far.