"That was fucking barbaric, Kano."
"What? The bitch 'ad it comin'."
"You should've just cut her throat if you were pissed. Cutting out her brother's heart right in front of her not only bought time for backup to come and rescue her, it also ensures she'll be dogged in her determination to hunt you down. That, and it was also totally inhumane."
"Kabal, mate, ya' gotta stop bein' such a bitch about this. Herman's been on me arse fer years. Now, I've sent a message about what'll 'appen if 'e or 'is kids come after me again."
"We'd better hope she's not as stubborn as her old man then."
"Come on, let's 'ave a drink. That'll perk ya' right up."
"No, I'm good. I just need some air and I'll be fine."
"Hm, suit yerself. See ya' later then, mate."
"Yeah. Later."
Later was right. That was the last conversation Kabal had with Kano before fully making up his mind. He had been slowly losing his love for this life for a while, but watching Kano wipe a young man's heart across his twin sister's face was so abhorrent that he couldn't bear to contemplate another moment with the Australian's group. That night, he gathered his things and fled the Black Dragon's current base of operations.
Luckily, there was a contact he'd made a few months prior when the Black Dragon had first moved their operations to New York. His name was David Cahill and his trade was new identities. Kabal knew the man was reliable and took confidentiality very seriously. As such, Kabal approached him to get a new identity set up for himself. While Kabal was only an alias he'd adopted with the Black Dragon, Kano and many other members knew his real name was Michael Richards. As did the authorities. For what he had planned, he'd need a completely fresh start.
A few months later, one Johnathan Lodge entered the police academy, just after the Black Dragon left New York, having apparently given up the search for their runaway member. During this time, 'Johnathan' was assigned a room with a fellow cadet named Kurtis Stryker.
"Sounds like something out of Die Hard," John had remarked upon their introduction.
"Better that than a cheap motel chain run by Johnny Cage," the other man had retorted.
Their mutual distaste for the actor's recent output proved an early foundational piece in their budding friendship.
The two's bond only continued to strengthen as they graduated from the academy and joined the NYPD proper. Given how well the two worked together, it was only natural for them to be assigned as partners. They performed well as a team, and the Big Apple provided no shortage of criminal scum for the two to be called upon to apprehend. John's new life was going unusually well. Perhaps, it was the universe giving him a break before things took a sudden nosedive.
By now, he had been free of the Black Dragon for four years. That was when the U.S. Special Forces had contacted the NYPD to inform them that they suspected the Black Dragon was back in New York. Kano was known to have disappeared the previous year, but his whereabouts since then were either classified or unknown. Either way, John's new life was in jeopardy. But he wasn't going to run from it. If he had the chance, he'd take Kano in himself.
John returned home one night after a long patrol and a few beers with Kurtis. Entering his apartment and kicking off his boots, he sensed that he was not alone in the dark living room. Slowly, quietly, he drew his weapon from its holster and readied himself to engage the assailant. He was about to command the intruder to identify themselves, but his eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to realise that the red light in the corner was not from an electronic device on standby. No, it was much too big for that. And it was just at head height if one were to sit in the chair that was usually in that corner.
"Kano."
A dark chuckle emerged from the equally dark room and the man in question pulled the cord on the lamp that rested on the table to his side. Aside from having shaved his head and face bare, Kano had barely changed at all in four years.
"Y'got me," he said with his hands up. "When I heard you'd gone straight, I honestly didn't wanna believe it. But I can't deny the blue looks good on ya'."
"You know you're wanted, right? And that you just broke into the home of an NYPD officer? Not your smartest move, Kano."
Kano rose from his (well, John's) seat. "I said the uniform looks good on ya'. I never said it suited ya'."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means this life ain't fer you, Kabal. You're a Black Dragon. Always were, always will be."
"Not anymore. Now, put your hands behind your head and get on the ground. I'm taking you in."
Kano shook his head. "Come on, mate. Ya' can't honestly tell me you enjoy this little cops 'n' robbers game on the blue team."
"I enjoy it a hell of a lot more than your barbarism."
Kano nodded. "Ah. So, that's what this is about. You left cuz I cut out Blade Jr.'s heart in front of 'is sister. Well, if it makes ya' feel any better, you were right about it motivating Sonya ta keep on me arse. She's bin ridin' me harder than 'er daddy ever did since then."
"That does make me feel a little better," John admitted.
"Ah. See? That's what I've missed the most. The banter!"
John tightened his stance upon realising that he'd started to relax. For as grimy and sleazy as he could be, Kano's charisma was undeniable.
"I saw you relaxin' a bit there, mate. You were rememberin' all the good times as well. Come on, Mike. Can ya' really tell me you'd take this literally blue-collar work, protectin' ingrates who do not, an' never will, appreciate the risks you take ta' keep 'em safe; bein' accused of all kinds a' horrendous shit like corruption, police brutality, racial discrimination, based on yer vocation and skin colour... over the thrillin' life of an outlaw, answerin' only to yer brothers and takin' everythin' ya' deserve to 'ave? You'd seriously take blue over black?"
Kabal hated that he couldn't deny the allure of returning to the fold, even after all this time. Kano had some good points. The life of a police officer was a thankless one. People were always so quick to jump on officers of the law for imaginary slights and hypocritical assumptions based on the actions of others in their profession. He himself had had such accusations aimed his way more than once.
"I'll give you a day ta' think about it, yeah?" Kano offered. He moved to walk past Kabal, who turned and placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
"No. There's no need. You're right. Fuck this job. Fuck those opportunistic liars. And fuck those limp-dick politicians and pundits who don't give us honest cops the support we deserve. Fuck all of 'em."
"So, you're in?"
"Always bet on black, baby." Kabal held out his hand for Kano to clasp, which he did, gladly.
"Too bloody right, mate."
"Out of curiosity, what would you have done if I'd said no?"
"I'd've killed ya'. Obviously." While his tone was jovial, Kabal had little doubt that Kano meant it.
"You and what army? Those punks outside who haven't even been canonised yet? I'd like to see you try."
Kano let out a raucous laugh. "Oh, I've missed you, mate!"
Of course, Kabal would continue on as an officer of the law, acting as Kano's inside man in the NYPD. Intel stolen from the boys in blue was one of the most valuable assets a criminal organisation could ask for, after all, and Kabal was uniquely positioned to obtain it for the Black Dragon. Of course, he'd have to do something about his partner, Kurtis. If he knew about Kabal's history with the Black Dragon, he could bring the whole operation down around their heads.
First thing the following morning, he headed into work and met up with his partner in the parking lot. The place was otherwise deserted, which made approaching Kurtis much easier than he'd expected.
"Oh, hey, John," Kurtis greeted as he grabbed some things from the trunk of his car. "Was your night as rough as mine?"
"If the bags under my eyes are anything like yours, then I'd say so. Listen, Kurt, there's something I wanna talk to you about. In private."
"Really? Well, you know you can tell me anything, right?"
And so, he did. He told him everything. That he was a member of the Black Dragon that quit and started fresh under a new name, joined the NYPD to help people, and had now been recruited back into the criminal enterprise. Or so Kano thought. In truth, John intended to use Kano's desire to have him back in the crew and his trust in his old comrade to feed intel to the NYPD to help bring Kano down for good.
Kurtis, for his part, remained silent as his best friend of four years revealed that practically everything he knew about him was a fabrication. Being inside Kurtis' car meant that John was in very close proximity to his partner, but their positions would make it difficult for things to get violent.
"So..." Kurtis said, considering his words. "You're a criminal."
"Originally, yes."
"And you've been lying to me for years."
"Right."
"But, you're coming clean now. Even though it looks really bad for you, between the lies and the criminal record."
"Yeah."
"Would you have ever come clean if this opportunity had never presented itself?"
"Probably not, no. But, this opportunity is too good to pass up just to keep up the façade. Even if I have to give up this life, turn in my badge and serve my time, I'll do it if it means we can finally put Kano and his crew away for good."
Kurtis nodded silently as he contemplated his response. Eventually, he gave one: "Alright then. Where do we start, Partner?"
The two presented their idea to the Chief later that same day. Contrary to their assumptions, Chief O'Brien gave them an opportunity to explain their proposition, as well as John's past as Kabal. He agreed to sign off on the operation, on the condition that John also testify against Kano and then turn himself in once the operation concluded. With John's somewhat reluctant agreement, the operation entered the planning phase.
For now, John was to keep up his charade as Kano's inside man, feeding Kano small pieces of carefully selected information to keep him hooked, while O'Brien had the larger play drawn up. Kurtis would, of course, play the part of Kabal's oblivious partner who could be manipulated by the mole. To fit with this new identity, John had his hair shaved into a mohawk, though with some of the ponytail remaining. He also took to wearing an olive coat with black fur covering the shoulders.
It was a week after the 'deal' had been struck that Kabal would make his first return to a Black Dragon hideout. Kano made sure to roll out the welcome wagon and introduce Kabal as one of his old boys. Apparently, most of said boys had been apprehended or killed in the years since Kabal's original tenure had ended. About the only ones left from the old days were Jarek and No Face. The other top spots in the clan were now filled by total strangers.
Kano took Kabal into his 'office' and dragged out a footlocker. "I always knew ya'd come back eventually, Kabal," he explained as he dropped the container onto his desk. "'s why I kept 'old a' these for ya'."
Cautiously, Kabal opened the locker up and found, to his astonishment, his old hookswords, seemingly untouched since his departure, save for the blood he'd never washed off being gone. They looked almost as good as new.
"I remember back in the day, you used ta' be a real wizard with these bad boys."
"I'm probably quite rusty now."
"Well, we've got plenty a' time ta' get you back up ta' yer old standard. We're just settin' up and makin' plans for now. So, you take yer time ta' get back inta' the swing a' things."
And take his time, he did. Kabal got in a lot of practice with his old blades while waiting for a task beyond simply providing information. It gave the NYPD time to plan exactly what intel John could pass along to Kano that would be enough to maintain his cover, but not so valuable as to jeopardise any major NYPD operations.
Three months passed with John leading this double life, helping Kano to succeed enough to keep his trust in him strong. It seemed that, just as John had found himself susceptible to Kano's charisma, Kano himself was also very trusting of Kabal. While the two had never been as close as John and Kurtis were, Kabal and Kano had been good friends back in the day, and John had to continually remind himself that those days were long gone. He was here to take Kano down, not be his friend.
By the time the Black Dragon was on the verge of commencing its next big operation, Kabal had gotten back to his old proficiency level with his weapon of choice. He was even using it on the gang's smaller jobs. He didn't use them to kill anyone, of course. Kano had, fortunately, been accepting when Kabal had confided his distaste for killing, and allowed him to go non-lethal, so long as he didn't jeopardise their jobs. No doubt, Kano didn't want history to repeat itself with the violence becoming too much for his old comrade. Once or twice, though, John had had to covertly take out couple of BDs in the midst of a chaotic firefight to keep the civilian or law enforcement casualties low.
The big job was set to go down in early October, in Hong Kong. It was a big arms deal with some local liberation group. Obviously, this had to be prevented to avoid the streets turning into a warzone. While waiting for the night of the deal, John caught a TV programme discussing the riots in Hong Kong back in '67. Seeing footage of the pro-communist rioters clashing with the British-backed HK police raised a number of moral questions in John. There were parts of both sides he sympathised with for a vast multitude of reasons from his morals to his cultural upbringing to the individual clashes he was witnessing. His inability to pick a side made him wonder if the same might occur once it came time to take Kano down.
Fortunately, he'd have plenty of time to worry about that later. The deal went down not long after the programme aired, allowing John to put those questions out of his mind for a while. Given their international jurisdiction in hunting down the Black Dragon, John opted to leak information surrounding the deal to the Special Forces division once headed by Herman Blade and now by his daughter. He felt sure that his cover would be fine, assuming Sonya Blade truly was as dogged in hunting her brother's killer as Kano had claimed. Plus, anti-communism sentiment was about as American as the red, white and blue, so America intervening against those siding with the Chinese on behalf of their British friends shouldn't draw too much suspicion.
For this job, Kano brought four of his other top lieutenants with himself and Kabal: Jarek, the main weapons dealer of the clan who'd kept business going while Kano was missing the prior year; Tasia, a crafty woman who was as good with swords as Kabal was with his hookswords; Tremor, a man in some kind of ninja garb who was built like a tank; and No Face, a horrifically burned pyromaniac and one of the old guard. The meeting took place in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. As cliché a meeting place as it was, it made for a relatively open venue that disincentivised foul play. Not that it helped much.
As planned, the deal was interrupted by the arrival of the Special Forces. The buyers thought the entire deal was a setup and a three-way shootout erupted. In the chaos, Kabal covertly stashed one of the weapons in a spot that could be easily overlooked in a dash to escape with the goods, but not too difficult to find in a thorough sweep of the area. That way, the SF could get some of this tech back to their base to help them close the technological gap.
That done, John got back to the battle and spotted Sonya Blade fighting Kano. Her ferocity was undeniable. John had half a mind to let her kill Kano and get this over with, but No Face was nearby and preparing to level his weapon in her direction. John could deal with helping Kano evade capture a little longer, but letting Sonya Blade die after that barbarism she endured while he did nothing to stop it? That he could not abide by. He grabbed one of the guns from the sale and fired a few shots at her feet. This distracted her long enough for Kano to get a good hit in, knocking her off her feet and rendering No Face's attempted assistance unnecessary.
Kano had taken a beating from his nemesis, so Kabal had Jarek help him escape while Tasia and Tremor grabbed the guns. Kabal and No Face covered their escape, with the only people killed by Kabal being those already set alight by his comrade. The six Black Dragons fled the scene with most of the merchandise in-hand, leaving the SF and would-be rebels to keep each other busy.
Little was said on the journey back to the States. Most of the merchandise had been recovered, but with none of the payment. The entire trip had been a loss, which always angered Kano. Not only that, but John could almost feel a growing sense among the group that the intervention of the SF wasn't a coincidence. John would have to wrap up this mission soon, lest he be exposed. For as much as Kano liked him and valued having him around, John knew he wouldn't hesitate to kill him if the truth got out. Hell, he'd probably go for irony and do to him what he did to Daniel Blade.
After arriving back home, John reported the outcome to Kurtis, the chief and the rest of the taskforce the following morning.
"It's good that the deal fell through," the chief concluded. "Last thing we need is to be implicated in an international incident. But your cover's still secured, right, Lodge?"
"For now, Sir. I don't know how much longer I can keep this going, though. Kano's not said anything about it yet, but I doubt he's not at least considered that the Special Forces showing up to a big deal on another continent is coincidence."
"They showed up on another continent when they ambushed him and took his eye, right?" another member of the taskforce, Jacob Ericson, questioned. John had filled the taskforce in on everything he knew about Kano and the Black Dragon back when the taskforce had first been formed, including the circumstances surrounding the transition from Trevor's leadership to Kano's.
"Yeah, but there were always rumours of a mole in the group during my original membership. No way Kano can deny the similarities here."
"Alright, we'll begin making preparations to wrap up the operation," the chief assured him. "Any progress on identifying Kano's new sponsor?"
"Not yet, Sir. Kano's being unusually tight-lipped about the whole thing. All he's said is that this latest deal was to fund production of a bigger batch of weapons than the Black Dragon have ever made."
"You don't think they're looking to start a war, do you?" Kurtis offered.
"Hard to say. Whatever happened to Kano last year changed his priorities. I'm gonna have to give him something big to make up for the latest loss if I'm gonna find out more."
"We might have to leave that to the Special Forces," the chief stated. "This whole ordeal looks like it's way above what we're prepared for. We'll see how the SF guys want to proceed on this. For now, just keep your head down and keep your cover from being blown."
"Will do, Sir."
"Alright. Dismissed."
"You gonna be alright?" Kurtis asked once the two were out of the room.
"Yeah, of course," John replied, hoping to sound more confident than he actually was. "Like the chief said, I just need to keep my head down a little longer and I'll be good. Sucks that I won't be the one taking the Black Dragon down, but I can at least gather a little more intel for whoever takes over from us."
"Sure. But be careful out there."
"Trust me. If my cover's blown, I'm outta there in a flash."
There was a palpable tension around the new Black Dragon hideout during Kabal's next visit. No one seemed to know it was him, but it seemed that rumours of a mole were spreading again. Luckily, Kano had been recruiting a hell of a lot more recently than he used to, so Kabal stood out less thanks to no longer being the 'newest' recruit.
A general meeting was called by Kano less than an hour after Kabal's arrival. From what Kabal could gather, this was the entire gang. If he'd had a way to communicate with the NYPD or SF, he could probably have organised a raid and taken the entire group down in one fell swoop. But of course, such a golden opportunity was unavailable to him, as things were.
"Alright, let's keep this short an' sweet," Kano opened, his tone suggesting all business. "No doubt, you're all aware that our last deal got cocked up by the arrival of Sonya Blade an' 'er merry men. An' I'm sure you've also heard the rumours that one of us in this very room is a bloody traitor. Half a' you've even been spreadin' those rumours. Of course, I've been lookin' inta' this, an' Tasia over 'ere reckons she's got the answers to our questions. The floor's yours, luv."
Tasia stepped from Kano's side to in front of him without saying a word. She rarely did, so most of the gang took her stepping up to speak as a sign of how confident she was in her coming accusation.
"My inside man in the NYPD confirmed this morning that the cops have a taskforce assigned to an undercover sting operation targeting us. And it's been in operation for three months. In fact, it was formed less than a week after Kano brought Kabal back!"
"Now, hold on a minute-" Kabal tried to interrupt, but Tasia was known to never allow herself to be interrupted when she had something to say.
"And more than that, our guy also confirmed that Kabal is the mole with these." Tasia threw down a manila folder onto the table in front of Kano.
Kano looked through the files, seemingly contemplating. John couldn't help but notice that a number of other members had begun subtly moving around him to cut off his escape. The longer this went on, the lower his chances of escape if Kano bought it. If John made a break for it now, it was definitely over.
"You can confirm the authenticity of these?" Kano asked, finally.
"I can," Tasia replied. "Ericson's never given me bad info."
"Kano, come on! You're seriously buying this shit?" Kabal had to speak up now and try to discredit Tasia. If nothing else, it might distract those attempting to encircle him long enough for him to make his escape. "As a former cop, I can verify that those things are easy-as-piss to forge. She's clearly noticed how much higher up the chain I am than her and she's using her PD contact to forge documents to turn you against me. Or hell, maybe she's the mole, seeing how she has a working relationship with a cop!"
"Can you refute those accusations, Tasia?" Jarek demanded.
Tasia scowled. "Not right now, no."
"And do you have anything more solid than this?" asked Tremor.
"Ericson actually sent over the security tapes this morning. Tapes of meetings about the operation, where the prodigal son over there talks about sabotaging our operations and giving us weak info to keep us hooked." A TV was wheeled over with the tape ready to play, exposing John for what he truly was.
"I 'ave ta' give ya' credit, Mikey boy," Kano said. "You 'ad me fooled. All that stuff about cops bein' taken fer granted an' the pundits an' politicians. It was all very convincin', mate. It's a shame yer heart wasn't really in it. You coulda' really been one a' the best. Kill 'im."
John immediately turned around and ran directly in Tremor's direction. The big guy was strong, but he was notably slower than John, whose speed had always been his pride. John slid along the ground between Tremor's legs and only had a couple of Black Dragons left between him and the exit he'd spied once the meeting was called. He'd spend damn near every second of the meeting analysing the room for potential escape points and enemy obstacles. One quick swing of one of his hookswords and one of the two went down with a slit throat, the other recoiling and giving John room to move.
John was out the door and mashing on the small remote in his glove that would signal a need for an extraction. John ran through the hideout's corridors, evading the odd ambush and occasionally cutting a thug down. It didn't take long for him to get out the back door and out into the mostly deserted dock area. If Kurtis was standing by as promised, it shouldn't take too long for reinforcements to arrive. For now, all John could do was make a run for the city.
A few near misses from enemy rifles spooked him, but they'd also serve to guide the incoming officers to find his location. The wall of a nearby warehouse exploded outwards and Tremor entered the chase proper. Although he'd never be able to catch John himself, his immense, almost inhuman strength allowed him to grab crates and other heavy objects to hurl as projectiles, forcing John to dodge repeatedly. To evade the onslaught, he turned a corner, knowing the projectiles would be blocked by the surrounding walls. What he didn't know going in, however, was that No Face was waiting around this corner, possibly co-ordinating with Tremor to create just such an opportunity.
Despite his natural talent for speed, John was too slow to move as No Face levelled his flamethrower at him and unleashed a torrent of volcanic napalm all over the undercover cop. John's mind gave way to instinct as he frantically attempted to extinguish the flames with just his hands, and then by rolling along the concrete. Despite his best efforts, he continued to burn. At some point, he thought he felt bone touching the ground as he continued to roll around.
The only saving grace was that the dock edge was close by. John scrambled to his feet and sprinted for the edge, trying not to let the agony of his deep breath entering his burning lungs get the better of him, and he dove over the edge into the (very likely contaminated) water. The agonising sensations of the filthy New York harbour water touching his seared flesh were too much to bear and he lost consciousness in short order.
Kurtis was the first officer on the scene. He arrived in time to witness his partner's immolation at the hands of the faceless pyromaniac. A brief firefight ensued in a way more literal than Kurtis had ever known. Worrying for how little time his partner may have before drowning, Kurtis took aim for the fuel tank on the assailant's back, managing to strike home and cause the tank to explode, setting its wearer aflame as the fuel inside had done to his partner. Noticing that the man seemed mostly unfazed by the immolation, beyond being stunned by the surprise of it, Kurtis fired off three shots for the man's head. One of the shots hit home, doing to him what the flames could not.
With that obstacle taken care of, Kurtis dove into the water. He resurfaced soon after. John was nowhere to be found. And as the force's thorough sweep of the area would soon discover, neither were the Black Dragon.
John awoke at some point in a very dimly-lit room. It didn't seem like any hospital he'd ever seen. In fact, it looked like some kind of laboratory, if the man-sized blue tubes off to the side were any indication.
His awareness of the burning agony across his entire body came back quickly, drowning out most of his other senses. The burning was all over his skin and in his chest. His breathing was laboured and unusually loud, which he assumed was the result of an air mask. Just what state were his lungs in now?
He began to reach up to feel his face, only to find his wrist shackled to whatever surface his broken body was currently lying on. Looking around frantically, for any indication of what his current situation was, his eyes adjusted to the dark enough to spot hooked chains hanging from the ceiling above him. Then, he saw that those large tubes had someone or something inside them, but it was hard to tell who or what. The floor looked to be some kind of metal grating covered in blood, almost giving off the impression of some old slaughterhouse. And given who he'd just pissed off, that didn't seem entirely out of the question.
The sound of approaching footsteps startled John, making his body tense up, which only caused it to hurt more. From the sound of it, there were two people approaching.
"I wouldn't have taken you for a man who would forgo a portion of your pay for a favour such as this," said a man. His accent suggested he was from somewhere in East Asia, but highly proficient in English.
"Kabal 'ere's a unique exception," said the unmistakeable voice of Kano. For the first time in who knew how long, John's body felt cold. "Bit a' creative tweakin' an' 'e'll be one a' Kahn's top guys."
"By which you, of course, mean 'one a' your top guys'."
"Well, yeah. But as long as the money's good, my guys are Kahn's guys."
"You're a very simple man, Kano. I find that one of your most admirable qualities."
"Aye. Only people ya' can trust these days're the ones ya' can read like an open book."
"Indeed. You never know who might be plotting to betray you."
Kano and his companion shared a chuckle. Whether they were referring to John at the end or something else, he couldn't tell.
"But there's no way ta' heal 'is burns?"
"There probably is. But what use have I for magic that heals others? Normally, a minion ending up in this sorry state would be cause for me to lay claim to their soul. But the Emperor deems you valuable enough an asset to divert my attention toward this project of yours."
Whatever mumbo jumbo this other guy was talking about, John didn't like it one bit.
"Now, the physical modifications you requested have been completed. The burns your man inflicted on this... Kabal, was it? They were quite severe, to say the least. He won't be able to breathe without that ventilator. The mask you provided was unnecessary, but it does add a certain aesthetic quality to this charred husk."
"An' the speed boost? If 'e's gonna fight the SF, 'e's gonna need ta get in close widdem hookswords."
"Of course, that has been taken care of. All that remains is the holding spell and trust me, I have had more than enough practice of late."
"Aye, between the Empress an' the Princess, Kabal ain't got a chance."
"Oh, look. It would seem that the patient is awake. This will require a little more magic than expected, but still not enough to be a problem. Give me a moment to prepare."
As the other man stepped off to the side where John couldn't see him, Kano stepped into clear view and flashed a strangely friendly smile.
"Quite the pickle we've found ourselves in, eh, Kabal? You played yer role like a right pro. Once ol' Shang 'ere's done wiv ya', you'll be puttin' that actin' skill to work for the Black Dragon. It'll be jus' like the ol' days."
"G-Get... fffucked, Kano," John managed to rasp out, still struggling to properly breathe through whatever Kano's sick new friend had grafted onto him.
Kano simply chuckled.
The other man returned to John's line of sight, his hands aglow with some kind of green light like he was an honest-to-god sorcerer. His hands drew closer to John's face, drowning out most of his view in a sickly green sea of light. When his view was all but consumed by the light, a powerful rumbling shook the entire chamber, catching both other men off-guard. The two had to grab hold of the gurney or whatever John was strapped to for balance.
"The fuck's that?" Kano demanded of his companion.
"The Emperor must be making his move now," the other man replied, looking everywhere but at John to check for damages. "Moving a palace of this size between realms is almost unheard of. Anything could happen in the dimensional shift. We'd best just hope we don't get stuck between realms."
John felt an odd shift beneath his body. Taking note of the implications of what had just been said, John looked down at his body and prayed, and for what felt like the first time in a very long time, fortune saw fit to favour him. As he'd hoped, the shackles keeping him in placed looked somewhat transparent. Due to their structural composition being compromised by the dimensional shift or whatever Shang had said, John had little trouble breaking free of his restraints.
He'd seen his hookswords off to the side near where Kano was standing. Moving as quickly as he could, John made a grab for them. He was stunned by exactly how quickly he reached them. It was near instantaneous. This must have been what his two captors had been discussing earlier. Turning, he found that Kano seemed just as surprised as John was. As Kano pulled out one of his knives to defend himself, John closed the gap and used his momentum to shoulder barge him across the room. This confirmed it. They had done more than patch him up enough to survive his injuries. They had made him into a goddamn superhuman.
Kano's associate's hands were glowing again, and John didn't want to know what this sorcerer was capable of. He turned and used his newfound speed to book it. Whatever this place was, it seemed ancient with a sort of Ancient Asia-meets-Masters of the Universe aesthetic. The harsh rumbling continued all around him, but John found himself easily maintaining his footing, regardless.
He whizzed past several individuals who looked mostly human, but he was moving too fast to properly take them in. His speed was incredible, but he struggled to maintain it when not moving in a straight line. Corners made him borderline normal. Still, the halls were wide enough to mitigate that somewhat, but he hesitated to imagine what creatures might have given the architect cause to make the hallways this wide.
After a while, it became clear that a force was being amassed to track John down before he could find an exit. For now, he ducked into a side room to catch his breath and plan his next move. The room appeared to be the bedchamber of some medieval princess. An ugly one, too, if the numerous broken mirrors were anything to go by.
Seeing these mirrors made John realise that he had yet to actually see what had become of him through Kano and his friend's arcane augmentations. He hesitantly picked up a large shard from the floor near one of the mirrors and raised it into the light. What he saw horrified him.
His arms were mostly bare and bore horrific burns that resembled melted cheese. From what he could tell, they extended up across his chest and neck to his face. His neck had some sort of collar around it with an oxygen tube inserted into the front, right through into his throat. The other end connected to his belt with some sort of device that seemed to filter in oxygen for him. It reminded him of the box on Kano's bandolier that secretly connected to his eye implant to provide it power. No doubt, this was likewise vital for the long-term survival of its wearer.
Over his face was a mask of some sort. He'd known it was there from the moment he'd woken up, but actually seeing it made it feel like he hadn't noticed until now. The metal mask left only his cheeks exposed and allowed for what seemed to be long strands of fake hair to stick out the back. The rest of his face was totally covered. And John was grateful for that. He didn't know if he could handle seeing his face in the same state as the rest of him right now. Of course, his vision was a little limited thanks to the size and shape of the eye holes not being entirely accommodating.
Covering his mouth was a respirator reminiscent of Darth Vader's in Star Wars. From what he'd interpreted from the other guy's comments, the mask wasn't strictly needed for him to breathe, but it did seem to help.
He looked positively dead. Hell, for all he knew, he was, and this was literally hell. At least, it meant Kano had finally made his way down there. Be that the case or not, he would make sure Kano suffered for what he'd done to him. And his magic friend too. But literally or not, like Michael Richards before him, Johnathan Lodge was dead.
He picked his hookswords back up and moved to exit the room. He could hear someone outside giving the order to search the nearby rooms. Well, he wouldn't keep them waiting. Kabal kicked the door open and started swinging.
I originally started writing this shortly after The Soldier's History to cap off the trilogy started by The Criminal's Upbringing. The story was conceived as a way to amalgamate Kabal's 2011 backstory with his bizarre MK11 depiction by making him an undercover cop after leaving the clan.
However, certain real world events made the subject matter more than a little awkward to delve into, so I put it on the backburner until now. This also meant that the other Kabal stories that I've started had to be put on hold because those are set later in the timeline and I wanted to get his origin down first.
The story changed a bit during writing. It originally opened with a flashforward to after the burning, but I removed it because it reflected the original ending plan where Kabal was recovered by Stryker and taken to a hospital.
"You're gonna be alright, John!" Kurtis said in a tone he clearly hoped would be reassuring, despite being unable to keep the frantic dread out of his voice.
Of course, he didn't need Kurtis' tone to tell him he was done for. While the only part of him the rest of the world could hear was his mouth, every inch of his body was silently screaming as he burned. His brain, while not as literally as his flesh, was on fire from the barrage of agonising heat.
And it was all because he'd made the stupid mistake of letting his morals get the best of him.
This would have seen Ericson enter Kabal's hospital room to kill him, only for Kabal to turn the tables.
The sound of someone entering his room jostled him awake. The lights were out so their face was difficult to make out. The NYPD uniform was just about visible and he initially thought it was Kurtis, but his partner's voice could be heard outside the room, so this was someone else. His mind snapped wide awake as it could think of only one other officer who was likely to come inside the room.
John wasn't sure how Ericson had managed to get the room to himself, but he didn't seem to realise his target was awake. That gave John the advantage. He couldn't see anything useful that he could use as a weapon, but what he could see of the view suggested they were on the ground floor. That information could be useful if he survived long enough to use it.
He ran Ericson over to the window and slammed his head through it. He then took a rather large, rather sharp piece of glass that look ready to fall out of the pane and broke it off before jamming it into Ericson's throat.
I couldn't figure out a good way to get Kabal augmented in this scenario, so I drew on 2011's depiction instead and had Kano take him.
And yes, Kabal could probably have worked as his surname instead of just a codename, but "John Kabal" sounds farcical.