Desperado

by Hell-on-Training-Wheels

Erron Black annoyingly finds himself having to deal with the repercussions of a bargain he made with a woman he can't stand and one who also reciprocates the feeling. ((MKX Erron Black/ OC))

11. Run Through the Jungle

Chapter 11
Run Though the Jungle

---

Tanya wouldn't be so quick to call Rain smart, but she had to say she was surprised that he managed to formulate a plan that was.

At first, she had been hesitant about whether they could succeed. That was all before the Tarkatan Commander and she had managed to secure control of the caravan that was headed straight to Z'unkahrah. Now she felt strangely content in accepting that they could accomplish their objective. However, that didn't mean she wasn't prepared in case of failure.

Still, the pyromancer smiled smugly as the transport she was sitting in bounced from the movement of passing over the bumpy, equatorial trade road running through the Kuatan Jungle. In the back accompanying her, was the Tarkatan Commander and 7 other Tarkatans holding the son of the carriage driver hostage. Understandably, the driver knew not to draw any attention to the soldiers at the checkpoints they passed—as well as the other drivers in separate carriages they had commandeered.

Capturing hostages had been relatively easy when they arrived at the fields. In fact, there had been only one scaly complication.

Tanya looked down at her feet and smiled at the Zaterran who glared venomously up at her in response to her priggish regard for him. Reptile spat something at her in annoyance, but it was muffled by the many layers of cloth tied around his mouth as he tried to wiggle out of the binds from his prone position on the floor. Reptile's hands were in thick separate burlap sacks— Tanya's idea— to keep him from slicing at the ropes from behind his back, while he tried feebly to wiggle out of the ropes tied securely around his ankles.

They had picked up their reptilian eavesdropper back at the start of their journey in the fields. After most of the caravans had left, it had been no difficult feat to take over the carriages they needed to blend in with the rest of the herd. There was a small force of Tarkatans with them, around 102 of them stuffed in 10 carriages. Small enough for their plan to remain inconspicuous, but large enough for when the actual siege would commence.

After they had caught Reptile skulking around, the fool being idiotic enough to make noise for them to all hear, they subdued him. With the bodyguard spying on them, it was not hard to deduce that Kotal Kahn knew that they were near the trade routes. That was a bit problematic, but with the Kahn's guard captured, Tanya was not too worried about it.

They were at the carriage at the end of the line, bringing up the rear. Tanya could hear the jungle animals chattering through the wood of their transportation; but they had grown quieter the more their journey progressed. They were getting closer to the city, and she smiled darkly in Reptile's direction as an idea came to mind.

Not very long ago, Rain and herself had an encounter with him in the Kuatan Jungle, but today, she was certain it would be the last time.

Tanya playfully glanced around the carriage at the Tarkatans and gave the Zatarren a wink. "I think it may be too crowded in here," she mused to him with a mocking tone.

Despite one of his eyes being swollen shut, Reptile narrowed them suspiciously in contempt at her.

Tanya lifted from her spot on the box of goods she was sitting on and went to open the back of the door, stepping over him to add insult. Light greeted the yellow-clad Edenian, and she breathed in the humid air with sarcastic delight, giving Reptile a taunting show. With the door closing and opening with every bump, she grabbed Reptile by his bound hands and made him sit on his knees. He fought against his confinements, his shoulders shimming roughly as he tried to get free.

"This is where you get off," she informed satirically; her eyes still narrowed in disgust at him.

She brought her foot up and connected it with the bottom of his jaw hard, snapping his head violently back. Reptile howled in pain as he sailed from the back of the carriage and landed hard in the middle of the road. Tanya saw his head connect with a rock that protruded from the ground in the middle of the road, but he was already knocked out cold from the force of her kick alone.

"Enjoy your pleasant dreams, Zaterran," Tanya snickered, smiling in satisfaction as she closed the door to the carriage.

---

Earlier...

It had been no trouble for a warrior such as Rain to gain entrance into the palace. He knew that due to the depletion in Kotal Kahn's forces, that there would not be many night guards securing the doors to the palace. With the added advantage of teleporting, it was simple to take out the guard at the servant's entrance at the south end.

After donning his attire, he teleported his body near an alley for the dead-collector's wagon in the morning. His body would be discarded along with the other paupers that succumbed to the conditions of homelessness or disease; no one would be the wiser.

He changed into the clothes and made his way through the laundry area and the small gardens attached until he had come to another door. Luckily for him, it led to a kitchen that he could utilize. Using flour, juice from a blue fruit that had been left out, and water created from his powers, he mixed the contents and used it to trace a rough pattern of the Osh-Tekk's tattoos. It was not the best disguise, but it was passable enough to avoid suspicion from quick glances of others.

Besides, he only needed to secure two items in the palace and wouldn't be in view for very long.

The first thing he needed to do was find the archive room.

It had been awhile since he had walked the halls of the palace; the last time was when Mileena was Kahnum and Shao Kahn before her. The Hydromancer knew of the rumor of a secret passageway buried deep within the subterranean levels.

However, it was only gossip regarding the location of the escape tunnel while the existence of it was true. Mileena had mentioned it once planning strategies they could use and with Kotal Kahn's forces taking extra precautions to protect the stronghold, there was no way to gain access to it then.

Now, the circumstances were different.

Kotal Kahn's forces were weak; most of his legion was used to police Z'unkahrah.

Granted, Rain knew that Kotal Kahn would be aware of the escape tunnel. But with so little knowledge of what they were planning with the Tarkatans, he doubted the Osh-Tekk fool would consider the possibility of an attack from within the palace; they had the element of surprise.

Besides, he already had another method to erase any doubt they would be using the escape tunnel to enter the palace. He smirked, knowing that his decoys were on the way soon.

Rain passed by other Osh-Tekk's on his way to the records room and they nodded courteously at him— a mere greeting from one guard to the other— and moved on their way.

Regardless of the crudeness of the tattoo drawn on him, they were obtuse that it was him in disguise. His ego flared at the ease of how the plan was rolling smoothly forward, and he smiled pompously in anticipation for when he delivered the final blow to the false Emperor.

Rain turned the corner and felt a smaller body collide with him. He offered no apology, but she did, and when she looked up at him, her eyes squinted with skepticism. He stared down at the servant with superiority as she continued to look at him with conjecture. She was decent looking enough, but her lineage was obviously of Earthrealm, and he felt disgust. One thing he did like, however, she was wearing his color.

She made a move to go around him, and he blocked her path, enjoying the clear discomfort he could read on her face.

"Let me pass," she seethed at him, trying to mask her distaste with a professional tone.

He scoffed mentally at her. How dare she command him to do anything.

Taking advantage that she was uncomfortable with his presence; he lowered his eyes down to her breasts to evoke anger from her before flashing a false lustful grin.

"Forgive me," the Edenian chided; taking pleasure of how annoyed she was. Noting the color of her attire once again, he could not help but flash an authentic smile. "I was just admiring the color of your dress."

The Earthrealm girl scoffed resentfully at him and shoved by with a push of her hands. He barely moved, her strength like a gust of air hitting him, but allowed her to pass.

Rain raised a doubtful eyebrow when he saw the handle of a knife tucked in the back of her dress, and he couldn't help but chuckle mockingly. If she thought she could do anyone any harm, she was poorly mistaken.

Moments afterward, he disregarded his encounter with the inferior woman and went on his way to his destination; continuing to stalk around the palace undetected. It only took him several attempts to locate the archives room, and he was slightly disappointed that it was unguarded. Locked, but still unguarded. He had been expecting some thrill.

It was easy enough to teleport to the other side of the door, and when he saw the small room, he yawned. He was growing quite bored with how easily things were coming to him, but nevertheless he knew it would not stay that way for long.

Rain scoured through the archives, looking through each scroll for blueprints by the light of the torches on the wall. Feeling frustrated with every failed attempt to locate them, he finally let out a sigh when his eyes landed on something he had failed to notice entering the room. There was a large blue tapestry hanging on the wall, and he couldn't help but find the placement of it to be odd. He walked over to it and lifted the heavy dusty fabric and smirked at what was underneath.

There was a large door behind the tapestry. Like before, it was no effort to teleport in, but this time he was greeted on the other side.

The Osh-Tekk that was inside the concealed room woke with a start when he saw the guard teleport in a large water bubble in front of him. Knowing well enough of who was capable of doing such a thing, he charged Rain with his spear. Rain side-stepped out of the way lazily, smirking in a blasé manner as the spear tip hit the wood of the door by his head.

The Osh-Tekk's other hand came around for a right hook that the Edenian quickly blocked; the Osh-Tekk's other hand still trying to pry the spear loose.

Rain countered by bringing his foot up and planting it hard into his stomach. The guard grunted as he stumbled back, losing his grip on the spear and reached for his tecpatl knife in his belt. The Prince shot a jet of water at him from his hand, and smiled when he hit the back of the records cabinet with a hard thud.

Rain watched as he fell faced down, soaked, before he shook his head and slowly started to recover; the Osh-Tekk on his hands and knees.

Rain simply walked over, grabbed him by his head and gave his neck a violent twist and let his body fall to the floor; his eyes never leaving the scrolls on the cabinet against the wall.

He went through the documents, noticing how old most of them were, but discarded them on the floor carelessly when they didn't have what he was looking for. Finally, he found a large blueprint of the palace structure. The ink was faded, and he had to adjust his eyes to the dim lighting, but he saw the long tunnel that snaked through the bottom of the palace. It started near the entrance of what appeared to be catacombs and he smiled in triumph.

Rain placed the parchment back in its place after he memorized where the entrance of the tunnel was.

He turned to leave but stopped when he saw the body of the dead Osh-Tekk. Rain smiled in amusement as he collected the scrolls he had dumped on the floor and placed them back in their spots; making sure it looked as meticulous as it had been before.

Then, he picked up the Osh-Tekk from the floor, carried him over to the chair he had been sitting on before and placed him on it. Rain let out a small chuckle as he closed the Osh-Tekk's lids— making it appear as if he was sleeping— before he teleported out of the room and made his way toward the catacombs.

---

Present...
Kuatan Jungle

Besides the pain in his jaw and eye he felt throbbing when he woke up, the first thing Reptile felt was something licking the side of his face with its tongue.

His slit-pupil slanted towards the large dark green fur-coated boar that was trying to feast on him where he lay; he snarled instantly.

Its tusks scraped sharply against Reptile's cheek as he felt its teeth try and pry at the scales on his face. He noticed that his naturally acidic spit had already worn through the gag Tanya had placed over his mouth, and he was relieved — especially at what the boar did next.

Reptile hissed in pain when it bit him, and he retaliated by shooting acid from his mouth. It squealed in pain, the acid burning its snout as it darted off into the woods with haste; trying to distance itself from him and rid the acid from its face by brushing against foliage and trees. The Zaterran snarled in approval at the boar's misery. After it ran off, he contorted his tied hands from behind his back, around his bent knees, and with a hiss brought them in front of him. He ripped into the burlap sacks that were tied individually around his claws, pulling apart the fibers like they were cartilage attached to a piece of meat.

Finally, with his claws uncovered, he sank his teeth into the rope. When the rope went slack, he flailed it all off him in a fit of anger like he had a repulsive bug on him with a snarl.

As he hooked his claws underneath the rope at his ankles to free them, he felt an annoyed growl leave his mouth.

Little did the Edenian Witch know, he had intended to let himself be captured.

The only reason he would ever allow himself to do so was to find out what she and the Tarkatans were planning with the wagons. After he had discovered what their true purpose for the wagons, he would have freed himself and made his way back to Z'unkahrah to warn Kotal Kahn.

However, what was not purposeful was Tanya throwing him from the back of the wagon, knocking him unconscious and gaining a head start. Now, despite being free, he would have to catch up on the lost time he had.

Reptile sprang to his feet and sprinted in the direction of the city. After many miles, he began to tire, but he persisted even though his body begged for rest. It was imperative Kotal Kahn knew what the Edenians were planning— a plan that the Tarkatans had unveiled stupidly in the carriage before Tanya could silence them.

They were going to use the wagons to enter the city, bypass the checkpoints and use the escape tunnel to enter the palace and kill Kotal Kahn.

Reptile was not sure exactly how they discovered the escape tunnel, but from what he had heard it was sealed off. Kotal Kahn had no use for an escape tunnel. The Emperor was a proud warrior and felt it cowardly to rely on it as well as the strategic edge it gave to anyone besides the Emperor that wanted to use it. However, it didn't mean that Reptile wasn't worried. They could easily find a way to unblock it if they had the time and means to do so.

He had to get to the palace before Tanya did.

Hopefully, he was not too far behind.

---

Tanya grew bored with the company of the Tarkatans in the back of the wagon and opted with sitting next to the driver in disguise. She did so for two reasons: one was because she grew tired of looking at the hideous faces of the Tarkatan's, and the second was because the driver had proven that he could not be trusted.

The driver had made the heroic attempt to warn the soldiers at the last checkpoint they were at. While they had the benefit of being the last carriage at the end of the convoy, they were still reluctant about having any attention drawn to them.

Fortunately for them, the other carriages had pulled far enough away for them for them to be out of sight as they continued their trek to the edge of the city limits of Z'unkahrah.

Unfortunately for the driver, his efforts had not paid off as well as he was expecting it to. She glanced over at him and noticed the tear stains on his older face with indifference. Perhaps if he had not been as foolish as he was, his son would still be alive. He had made a transgression he paid dearly for— well, his son had paid dearly for given the fact his body was rotting somewhere back in the road behind them.

Tanya knew he had subtly signaled the soldiers that there was something amiss when he debated with the guard quite forcefully about refusing to show him their manifest. When both the Tarkatan commander and she heard him arguing that he did not need to show him the manifest of the supplies they had, she knew he had only done so they would have to inspect what was in the back.

She had already been prepared when the door opened and used her kobu jutsus to slash the throat of the first Osh-Tekk soldier. There had been several other guards and after he had fallen to the ground, her and the other Tarkatans in the wagon jumped out and attacked them. The soldiers were caught off guard and it was not difficult to get rid of the rest of them.

After several minutes of useless begging for his son's life, she was the one that slit the boy's throat.

Tanya glowered from behind her disguise; one that included a brown colored scarf wrapping around her head and mouth, only exposing her eyes, that was also the same color of the rags she wore to cover her yellow clothes. She had done the brunt of the work when they engaged the soldiers, and they even found themselves with one less Tarkatan. She sincerely hoped they were not going to be as useless as she thought they would be once they reached the city. If so, she began to mentally prepare herself for when they entered the palace. After they entered the city, they were to wait for Rain to rejoin them. Being a demigod had its perks that Tanya was slightly jealous of— his teleporting. So, she would have to wait on him. She hoped that her fellow Edenian had discovered the escape tunnel, otherwise their plan would fail, and she would be trapped in the city.

There was of course a fallback plan for both Edenians; a rendezvous place in case they needed to retreat. Tanya smirked lightly. That was all the Tarkatans were good for; being the brute muscle or being the sacrifices to allow them to escape. Either way, their allegiance was a temporary one.

She could just make out the silhouette of the city near the horizon and she smiled darkly.

---

Back at the palace, Rain carried himself down the steps to the entrance of the palace's catacombs. After much wandering, he eventually found the entrance to the subterranean level before he located the door that led further downwards. The deeper he delved down, the hotter the air got. He was also grateful that the abandoned, skull decorated walls of the tombs, carried torches on their walls and he did not have to carry one himself. He wiped the sweat from his brow from under the skull face mask of his costume as he also felt sweat over his chest. The only thing he carried was his clothes in a small bundle; he certainly wasn't going to kill Kotal Kahn dressed as an Osh-Tekk. The Prince wanted Kotal to know exactly who it was killing him.

He had never been down this deep inside the palace — he never had a reason to — and he began to regret that he did not bring the blueprints with him. The catacombs were a labyrinth. Every turn looked the same, except for a few details like the number of crevices in the wall holding corpses. Every wall was stacked high with skulls and bones as if they supplied the mortar to hold the wall together. For the most part, however, it was empty besides the rats that scurried along the wall.

He was not expecting any surprises like the last Osh-Tekk guard in the records vault, although he welcomed any that dared to try and fight him. The Osh-Tekk warriors that Kotal Kahn had to guard his most precious palace were weak and they would be no issue.

He wasn't worried how they would hold up against the Tarkatan rebels once they arrived. He only needed them to be distracted in the end. The Tarkatans would draw Kotal Kahn's guards away while Tanya and Rain sought their prize — Kotal Kahn's head on a pike.

Rain had spewed false flattery to the idiotic Tarkatan commander of how their camaraderie would bring a profitable outcome for the two of them, but he knew how worthless they were. They were ill-witted and would not oppose him once they accomplished their plan. They would be slaves to his rule under the camouflage of being allies.

Rain turned the corner and found himself at a dead end; the bodies of skeletons lining the wall staring back at him. He sighed with annoyance and turned around. Although none of this would come to fruition if he could not locate the entrance!

He knew it was midday and if Tanya had made it past the checkpoints, she would be close to the city. His thoughts went to his fellow Edenian and what to do with her once they won. She was untrustworthy, and while she had served as a valuable consort with him, he knew she was a traitor to her core. Tanya would need to be eliminated once her usefulness was spent. Once he had what was rightfully his.

Rain went around another corner and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of the two guards, armed with spears and swords, that were standing post besides a blank stone wall. He raised an eyebrow.

Why would two guards need to be stationed to guard empty catacombs?

He smiled darkly.

Unless... there was something valuable behind that wall...

Rain wasn't sure if stationing guards when they were so low on warriors was a well thought out strategic move to protect a critical weakness in their defense, or if it was wasteful. Regardless, it produced a small bit of dark amusement at the tiny opposition he had.

The guards looked at him with a curious expression.

"What are you doing down here?" the taller of them barked at him, "Return to your post—"

His voice drawled out when he narrowed his eyes at Rain's chest. The Edenian looked down towards his chest and noticed that the combination of flour, fruit juice, and water had started to crack and fall off.

They charged him, knowing that the forged tattoos were enough to raise alarm, and Rain rolled his eyes with annoyance.

So much for his disguise.

He dropped his clothes as the taller of the Osh-Tekk's lunged his spear at him. Rain merely stepped out of the way before having to duck from the other that aimed his own spear for Rain's head.

The Hydromancer opened his palm and fired a blast of water at the taller of the two, sending him into the wall of the catacombs and causing the skulls on the wall to break from impact.

Rain noticed the shorter of the two, slash at his head and he dodged out of the way by leaning to his side slightly.

Rain pushed the tip of the spear away from his head and brought a clenched fist up into a brutal hook to his jaw. The shorter Osh-Tekk groaned in pain and fell backwards.

Rain heard the familiar sound of a sword being unsheathed and he turned to see the taller soldier pull out his bronze colored serpentine sword. He swung at him, missing his face when Rain leaned back. He swept the sword in a backhanded attack and as soon as it passed, he shot out, grabbed his wrist to hold him steady and brought his foot up to push-kick him into the wall.

The shorter of the Osh-Tekk let out a cry of anger, bringing his fist back to strike Rain across the face, but never received the chance when Rain blasted him with a bolt of lightning from his hand.

He stopped dead in his tracks, vibrating violently as he was assaulted with the painful volts running through him. Rain noticed out of his peripheral the other Osh-Tekk struggling to stand and Rain used the advantage of it. With his other hand, he shot a second bolt of lightning at him and he fell to the ground writhing in pain as he was electrocuted along with his fellow soldier.

Eventually, he had to cease, only able to hold both currents for a short while, but it was all he needed to restrain them. The shorter that had been standing while he was being fried, fell to the ground in a heap of pain, while the other one stayed on his position on his back; both groaning in agony.

Rain walked, almost casually, to pick up the sword that had been discarded. He picked it up and went to the shorter of the two. The guard held up a weak hand out in defense that Rain batted away just before he placed the wavy-edged sword to his throat and cut it open. The Osh-Tekk gurgled as his blood darkened the floor underneath him despite his efforts to dam his throat with his hands.

Rain walked over to the taller that was on his back and with a simple thrust, impaled him through the heart. He groaned out a haggled cry, his head lurching up from the pain before Rain gave a sharp twist, freeing the blade from his chest and watched as he died quickly.

The Hydromancer let the sword clang to the ground as he stepped over the body of the other one and placed his hands on his hips.

He looked at the stone wall with a frown, doubting that Kotal Kahn was one for theatrics to create a secret door; knowing he blocked the door with the wall on purpose. Osh-Tekk were arrogant and derived deluded pride dying in battle, but he knew that even Kotal Kahn would not block the door very aggressively in case he did actually need it. It was a simple wall for an illusion of nothing there, a facade.

Rain lifted his hands and removed the helmet, feeling relaxed that the taxing headgear was free from him and let it fall to the ground. He rubbed his chin with his hand, stroking it in the thought of how he would remove the barrier.

He was wary of teleporting and knew it would serve no purpose anyway to trap himself inside with the wall up. Instead, he lifted his hand and blasted lightning at it.

The stones cracked and began to buckle, and he persisted until he had to give into his body's need for rest. He placed his hands on his knees, collecting himself as the exertion wore off and smiled when a small piece of brick fell and revealed the trim of a doorway to him.

He walked over and began to pull away at the loose stone, letting it thud to the ground and echo loudly in the vastness of the catacombs. If anyone heard the sound, he would get rid of them as easily as the others, so he didn't concern himself with it.

Rain pulled apart the stone, all of it cascading into a mountain off to the side and smiled with complete satisfaction when he was greeted with the heavy wooden door.

Stepping over the stones still left over, he pushed it open and looked down the narrow rocky path. The tunnel itself looked as it was lazily dug in haste and he was slightly apprehensive if it might cave in on itself.

The sight of it still produced a toothy grin from him and without a second glance to the dead Osh-Tekk behind him, he picked up the bundle of clothes he had dropped in the scuffle and he ran down the escape path to the exit.

---

Erron had always lived in hot environments and was quite accustomed to them, however when he woke up groggier and sweatier than usual, he knew that something was not right.

Besides noticing how achingly dry he felt, he felt like someone had beaten him in his sleep with a sledgehammer.

He had retired for the evening after they had delivered their news to Kotal Kahn and he could tell he felt much worse than last night; all he had before was a headache and slight muscle cramping. It was a small sign that the water had infected him, but he had been reluctant to pay it any mind.

In the past, Shang Tsung's magic had done its job whenever he came down with an illness or injury. His body always healed at an accelerated rate and most colds or flus were nothing more than slight inconveniences that lasted maybe a day at the most.

However, Erron had never been stupid enough to ingest polluted water. He had seen others do so, but he never had.

Black let out a haggard cough. At first it was slight, only a small one, but as he continued to lie in bed, it attacked him more and more. His chest began to ache from the constant barrage of coughing that didn't allow him to suck in any air. Finally, it tapered off, allowing him a reprieve.

Unwillingly, he lifted his feet from the bed and swung them over the side. His head dipped forward as more coughs aching ripped through him. His elbows rested on his knees as his head hung low, his chin resting on his chest almost as his shoulders lifted from each cough.

Erron groaned at the thought of how miserable his day was going to be. He knew that the food carriages would be on their way to the city and it he would have to monitor the distribution along with Ermac. He hoped it went without complications; his entire body weak as he forced himself to stand.

By looking at the position of the sun out the balcony, he knew that he was already late. Ermac would most likely be impatient by this point, and he wasn't in the mood to hear the wraith scold him if he decided to take any more of his time.

With his bare feet shuffling across the floor, he went over to his table and began to dress. It was difficult, each movement proving more tiring than the next, but he stubbornly ignored it.

He had been stabbed, shot, beaten and even trampled and he was not going to let something as meager as a cold get to him.

As he placed his vest on, adjusting the straps, he began to wonder if maybe the cholera was fighting its own battle with Shang Tsung's magic. Both of the forces trying to claim victory in his body and he was only feeling some of his cholera trying it's best to win.

Maybe that was why he was feeling the effect now. The magic stalling it and slowly trying to break it down.

It had to be.

Erron wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his forearm, coughing slightly as he placed his guns in their holsters and headed for the door.

He doubted that he would feel the full brunt of the cholera he had. Yes, he was miserable now, but he was positive this would be the worst of it.

Hopefully, it wore off soon.

---

Rain was very surprised how long it took to reach the end of the tunnel, although he did frown when he was greeted with yet another wall that was blocking the exit. Much like before, he used his lightning to break apart the stone slabs.

When he managed to move apart all that was needed to get through, he had to adjust his eyes to the sunlight. He lifted himself up, crawling from the darkness of the escape tunnel to find an open area with the backs of buildings facing across from him. The smell of animal manure wafted into his nose and he scrunched his face in repulsion at it. After piecing the clues together, he figured out relatively quickly he was near stables.

By the looks of it as well, it appeared that he was on the city's border; he could still see the primary perimeter wall that encompassed the city over the top of the stable's roof. Rain knew there was a gate on this end, but it was overlooked by the grand main entrance to Z'unkahrah. It was guarded as well but not as fortified as the other one was.

Rain peered around the area for any spying eyes. It didn't look like he had drawn attention and he smirked lightly before he climbed from the cover of the door. He walked along the area, trying to see where exactly in the city he was, and glanced down the alley to see many of the locals rushing in one direction.

He looked at the position of the sun and noticed that it was past midday and soon it would start to descend over the horizon. Hoping that Tanya's part went without difficulty and seeing the locals migrating in one direction, the food carriages must be in the city by now. If so, so would she with their Tarkatan allies.

The food wagons would be at the marketplace and he looked in the direction of the palace with a frown.

Rain knew his next objective was to locate Tanya and the others after finding the tunnel. However, he could not leave it unattended when he knew that there was most likely someone working the stables.

He stalked around the outside of the stables, looking for any way to get inside and smirked when he found the door.

Casually, he walked inside and greeted the occupants in sealed off stalls. The large saber-toothed mounts hissed at him as they tried to claw him; reaching their paws through the bars but failing. There were only 6 stalls, and seeing it was a relatively small stable, it would be no effort to kill whoever owned it.

He walked to the end of the hall, passing by a wall with leather harnesses and saddles, turned the corner and saw a long staircase that led up to a closed door upstairs. He could hear people talking and he smelled the food that they were preparing. Rain looked at the stairs with a grimace. He knew that the moment he stepped foot on them they would creak, so he took another approach.

He lifted his hand, surrounding himself in a large water bubble, and teleported inside the room.

The family of three jumped in alarm when he suddenly appeared in their kitchen. He took note of the Outworld family with indifference. A frail, thin woman, a teenage boy maybe 14 years old and the husband of the wife who was Osh-Tekk, lunged at him with the kitchen knife; the only thing he had within reach.

Rain simply grabbed his wrist and twisted it until he heard the bones in his wrist snap. The Osh-Tekk let out a cry of pain and Rain caught the knife that fell from his hand before planting it in his neck.

The woman grabbed the child and ran with him, trying to get past him. Rain's head snapped in their direction when he heard the door open. He shot a jet of water at the pair and they flew down the wooden staircase with startled screams. Rain pulled the knife from the throat of the dead husband and dropped both it and him with a careless release.

Rain approached the doorway at the top of the stairs and saw the boy and the woman gasping and crying in a painful heap at the bottom. Both of them soaking wet and staring up at him fearfully like he was a demon from the Netherrealm.

He smiled darkly at their pitiful expressions and purposely lowered himself down the stairs one foot at a time to elicit fear from them. As he got closer, their pleading turned into incoherent blubbering and they tried to crawl away with broken limbs from the fall; the boy with a broken arm and the woman with a broken leg.

The boy managed to pull his mother on her working leg, her arm draped over his shoulder and tried to escape him.

Before they could make it halfway down the stable hallway, Rain teleported in front of them and clicked his tongue at them.

The boy lunged for him pathetically; trying to throw a punch at him with his uninjured hand, before Rain powerfully hit him across the face. He spiraled into the wall, banging his head hard and collapsed to the ground with an unconscious thud. Rain focused his attention on the mother who stared fearfully at him.

She cried out in pain as she tried to flee the other direction while Rain simply grabbed her by the hair and sent her flying into the pile of saddles and harnesses. She collapsed on the ground, whimpering.

He flipped her over by kicking her in the face with his boot. She rolled on her back, her hands clutching at her broken nose. With nothing more than a blank face, he placed his boot over her throat, pushed down and strangled the life from her.

She thrashed wildly underneath him, the veins in her forehead becoming more prominent as her face turned purple. He enjoyed the color he produced with his foot, but when he noticed the boy starting to recover, he pressed down harder on her throat to kill her more quickly.

The boy had just brought himself to his knees before Rain quickly walked behind him and gave his neck a violent snap.

With them taken care of, he went back upstairs and changed into his preferred attire. Once again dressed in his Edenian clothes he felt a sense of grandiose contentment. He eyeballed the stew that was bubbling in the caldron and heard his stomach growl and it caused him to roll his eyes with irritation. All this tedious killing had given him an appetite. With a shrug of his shoulders, he poured himself a bowl. Rain walked over to the window of the kitchen and looked down below at what would soon be his. Meanwhile eating the supper of the family he had just eliminated without the slightest bit of guilt running through him. In fact, his only thought concerning them was hoping the food would be better. He was more used to something of a richer palate, but he supposed it would have to do.

He took his time eating. The day was still bright and he knew it would not be difficult to locate Tanya.

His fellow Edenian could wait till he was done eating.

---

Erron and Ermac stood off to the side in the marketplace as it bustled with activity. As soon as word spread that the carriages from the north had finally arrived in Z'unkahrah, all of the potential buyers flooded the marketplace ready to buy the necessities they needed for their businesses.

The wagons hadn't even finished setting up before they were swarmed by people. Ermac and Black were off to the side watching it all, letting the Osh-Tekk handle the crowd control until they were needed. They were there to supervise the distribution while the high-ranking Osh-Tekk commander gave orders and looked over the manifests for any discrepancies.

For the most part, the transition was handled smoothly and Erron was getting more and more impatient as the day carried on.

He knew that Ermac could sense that something was wrong with him. He was never subtle with his annoyed looks in Black's direction though he never voiced it. It was true, though, he felt awful. He tried to take shelter away from the sun, but it did little to help him as sweat rolled down his face and body nonstop.

The gunslinger also had difficulty standing and leaned against the wall of the building for support. His coughing had become more frequent and he tried to hide it by stifling the best he could, but they left him in fits regardless. Eventually, he had to remove his face mask; the protective cover turning into a hindrance.

In addition to his cough, he also had the worst stomach cramps and they were even more painful when he coughed; each one like a kick in the chest.

Black had never felt this sick since he had made the deal. Now he was beginning to worry that maybe he should have paid more heed to the possibility that magic couldn't solve every problem he had.

Erron coughed again, this time he didn't bother to hide it — his chest already too sore from his previous efforts — and let it out loudly. It caught Ermac's attention and he turned his head simply in his direction. Eventually, it passed and Erron lifted his stetson from his head and wiped the sweat rolling from his forehead in rivets with his palm before placing his hat back on.

"You are unwell," Ermac pointed out blatantly.

Black shook his head, "I'm fine," he grumbled. Another cough escaped him, betraying him and revealing his lie to Ermac.

The wraith narrowed glowing green orbs at him; unconvinced, "We sense the sickness within you."

"I said I'm fine Ermac—drop it," Black snapped.

Ermac's mouth opened slightly, almost as if he was about to add something before he was interrupted by the Osh-Tekk commander walking over to them. He shifted through his parchments, looking over the manifest and back at them with a frown; waiting for permission to be addressed.

"What is it?" the mercenary questioned.

"Everything is accounted for, except we are missing quite a few wagons," the Osh-Tekk told him.

Erron shrugged his shoulders, "You're probably overlookin' the ones on the way to the palace."

"I assure you I am not," the commander affirmed, shaking his head slightly. "Those were already on their way to the palace before your arrival. These wagons are for the masses as well as the ones that are not accounted for."

Black pinched the bridge of his nose with his finger and thumb, his headache pounding harder against his skull. "How many are missing?"

"Ten," the Osh-Tekk answered with a grimace.

Shit. That was quite a few.

Another set of coughs raked through him and he turned away from the guard, placing his hand over his mouth to muffle it. The sound of his cough was harsh and course, like his throat was choking out sand. He found himself doubling over from a mixture of the strength of it and the weakness he felt in his limbs. He gasped for air, sucking it in greedily as he tried to fill his lungs. When he removed his hand from his mouth, his face fell at what he saw. His hands were as wrinkled and withered as Ermac's mummified skin.

It was getting worse.

"Are you ill?" asked the Osh-Tekk, his eyes narrowed at the Kahn's guard with concern. Erron didn't bother to answer him, mostly because he didn't want to admit he was.

He wasn't sure how much longer he could choose to ignore he wasn't strong enough to simply walk it off. His symptoms were starting to become more and more severe and he needed to get it dealt with. However, the missing wagons were odd and they also needed to be taken care of.

Ermac looked over at Black once more, his arms crossed over his chest as he levitated next to him. His face was stoic, but Erron could read the subtle annoyance at his condition behind his wrapped face.

"We will search for the missing transports," Ermac informed the Osh-Tekk commander. "Remain here."

The Osh-Tekk nodded, pleased that his concern would be taken care of and signaled for a couple of guards to accompany Ermac. Black nodded his head, and through his mind-numbing headache, understood that he would be accompanying him.

Apparently, he had misinterpreted that when Ermac said 'we' he meant himself; despite that Erron was used to Ermac speaking in plural.

The construct glowered and shot him and austere look. "You are unfit to accompany us," he proclaimed with a dull tone.

The marksman narrowed his eyes disdainfully at him, unwilling to let the mystic just shove him away that easily.

"I'm comin' whether you like it or not," Black protested, a small cough escaping him.

"You are worthless in your condition," Ermac disclosed, his tone more forceful than before. Green eyes narrowed with disapproval. "You will impede us."

Erron knew that the only reason he didn't want him to come with him was because he felt he would be dead weight than actual help — which granted Black was beginning to feel himself —but he be damned if he was going to let Shao Kahn's former puppet tell him what to do.

"And I say too bad," Erron challenged.

Despite the scowl that came over his bandaged wrapped face, Erron truly didn't expect Ermac to do what he did in response to his stubborn statement.

Ermac clenched his fist and Black felt his arms slam to his sides, the green energy of Ermac's telekinesis binding him as he was lifted into the sky. Erron struggled, grunting as he tried to release the pulsating pressure from around his body.

Ermac's hand opened and with a wave of his hand, catapulted him in the direction of the palace. Erron couldn't help the surprised yell that left his mouth as he sailed through the air, flying a good 20 feet over the heads of bewildered people until he felt himself start to sink closer to the ground. Unfortunately, he felt his body collide with someone that was tinier, frailer, and by the pained yelp that he heard, feminine and elderly.

He landed with a pained grunt, his back sliding against the sand; agony rocking his already tired body.

Perhaps it was deliriousness, or the headache, maybe it was being flung through the air like a rag doll, but he felt worse than before. Suddenly, he rolled over on his hands and knees and vomited into the sand.

It was brief, barely a cupful, but his face scowled in disgust at the yellowish bile that began to soak into the sand. With his eyes directed towards the ground, he noticed that his hat had fallen off. He was thankful that he had managed to avoid throwing up on his hat and retrieved it; placing it on his head.

Black saw movement out of the corner of his eye and he grimaced when he saw who it was that he had collided into— or rather Ermac had forced him to crash into.

The elderly woman next to him, groggily began to pick herself up from the ground with the aid of a younger man lifting her lightly by her shoulders. He helped her to her feet as she pressed her hand against the red bandana she had tied around her braided white hair.

Erron sighed, feeling somewhat terrible that he had knocked such a fragile old thing down, even if it wasn't intentional. Her eyes darted to him angrily with her fists clenched.

Black knew she was looking for an apology, and he was about to offer one out, before she shrieked like a maniac and leapt on top of him, straddling his chest.

Considering all the strange things and foes he had encountered in Outworld, finding himself on his back with a distempered old woman pummeling him, was by far the most bizarre thing that had ever happened to him.

Erron groaned as his head snapped to the side with each blow from her tiny fists, each powerful punch like a brutal assault from a younger man with combat experience. As much as he wanted to fight back, he could not live with himself if he punched a sweet little old woman— even if she was currently beating the shit out of him.

How in the hell was she so strong?!

Black could hear her give one last shriek in anger above him before she gave him one last solid jab to the jaw. His head snapped back into the sand and he felt her climb off his chest. Stars danced above his head and he heard her give one last huff at his battered state before he saw her shuffling away in a typical geriatric fashion.

Erron remained on the ground, too dismayed, stunned and enervated to move. He heard the guards coming over to help him and he groaned, a mixture of the embarrassing beating and nausea, overwhelming him before he felt darkness take hold.

---

Norah fumbled her way over the words of the book that Carver gave her, lost so much in concentration that she didn't hear him call out to her the first time.

Bert snapped his fingers at her and finally pulled her attention away from the paperback book. She looked up, blinking when she caught Carver and Bert staring at her from across the table.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes flickering back and forth between them.

"I was asking you what part you were at," Carver said with a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh," she looked back at the book and then back to him, "He is telling the others to be careful with his dinnerware."

"Ah, gotcha. They're blunting the knives," Carver said with a wink, smiling in recognition.

She returned to her book, trying to locate the spot where she left off. Despite that she would constantly have to recall certain letters and translate their pronunciations in the common tongue, she found the book engrossing and found it a suitable distraction in between baking. So much so, she almost burned the bread of the midday meal earlier.

After dressing for her other duties and her loaves cooling for the dinner meals off to the side, she decided to bury herself in the book until it was time to go serve at dinner. It was whimsical and entertaining and much different from the books she used to read; mostly history books from her mother's old occupation in Earthrealm. Being that she was never interested in Earthrealm history, she always tired of the books. This was fiction and it fascinated her. Although, she had to admit that she was having difficulty focusing on it with the theater show occurring between Bert and Carver.

Along with the arrival of flour and goods from the wagons that came from the harvest up near the northern trade routes, fishermen also supplied them with a small shipment of crustacean for the Kahn's dinner tonight. It happened once in an awhile, the Kahn usually enjoyed poultry and meat over seafood, but each time they got something from the sea it was ironically Carver's least favorite meal to prepare — especially when it was still alive.

Carver's hand flung rapidly through the air, a pained scream of surprise leaving him when his finger was ensnared in the long slender claw of the blue long-tailed crustacean.

Bert looked up and raised an eyebrow when Carver managed to detach him and watched as it hit the wall of the kitchen door, lay stunned for a moment, before it snapped its claws defensively as Carver approached it.

"You're supposed to keep your fingers away from their claws," Bert instructed Carver with a sarcastic but deadpan delivery.

Carver, without breaking eye contact with the crustacean, flashed Bert with his middle finger. Norah exchanged a glance with Bert and they both smiled.

They watched with amusement as the animal tried to go pass Carver but each time it tried, Carver blocked it's path and retreated back into the corner. The young cook reached for it again and he was rewarded with another one of his fingers pinched. He yelled out in pain before it let him go, and looked at his damaged finger with a scowl before looking back at his tiny blue little foe.

"Oh, I'm so gonna Little Mermaid your ass," Carver growled, as he pulled the cleaver from the table next to him. "Oh-hoh-hoh."

"I thought you were born on an island?" Norah condescended with a small chuckle. "I would think you would be used to handling sea creatures."

"Just because I grew up on an island doesn't mean I ate fish 24/7," he shot back at her, "And I hate crabs. They're assholes."

"It looks more like a lobster to me," Bert argued with a small shrug.

"He has the tail, but he's got the stupid bulky body and legs," Carver pointed out, "And I hate him, so he's a crab."

"They are called Brachpidi," Norah told them with a small laugh, "And they are aggressive when you have them cornered like you do."

The aquatic creature snapped its claws at Carver, running at him briefly before cowering and shrinking back as Carver stomped his foot at it. It's blue antenna flickered as its smaller feelers stroked over its open mouth. Carver tried to find an opening to grab it, but it snapped its claws at him each time he reached for it; earning a curse word each time he narrowly missed being pinched.

Bert, who had no trouble with them, held one by its long tail and sank it into the boiling water of the cauldron. It let out a small shrill shriek, barely audible, before it died and began to cook in the pot.

The older man threw an impatient hand towards Carver, "Will you just grab the damn thing?"

Carver waved his own impatient hand at Bert, telling him silently to mind his own business, before he lunged forward and grabbed it. They couldn't help but laugh in amusement at the horrified look on his face and the distemper of the crustacean that wiggled angrily in the cook's grasp.

Carver dunked it in the water with amused satisfaction, and like the one that went in before it, tried to clamber out before it went slack.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is the Jacuzzi too hot?" Carver asked it satirically before he went over and helped Bert handle the other ones.

Norah had smiled at them before she went back into her book. Unfortunately, she did not make it very far before Bao and Abigail walked into the kitchen. They had left briefly an hour ago once Abigail had finished cleaning her pots and pans. Norah couldn't help but stare apprehensively as Abigail eyeballed the book with more intensity than what was required.

She had given the book the same look before they had left, and she wondered what was running through the quiet woman's mind. The baker wanted to ask, but she knew she would not be able to share. Norah decided to push it aside when she recalled something that she had stumbled upon earlier.

"Oh, I meant to ask you all," Norah started. "Where any of you using my flour last night? It was left out and I know I always place it away."

They all looked at her in confusion.

"It wasn't me or Bert," Carver told her with a shrug.

"Nor I," Bao answered. Abigail also shook her head.

Norah frowned. When she arrived in the morning, her workstation was in disarray. There was water, flour and blue fruit plucked from one of the bowls staining the wood when she arrived. It was annoying that she had to clean it up before starting her day and she wanted an explanation.

"Maybe it was Ferra?" Bao offered, "She was looking for you last night."

Norah nodded, although she wasn't entirely convinced.

"We are to deliver to their rooms tonight," Bao reported to her and Norah frowned deeply. The last time she had to go to Erron Black's room it did not go so well.

She sighed sourly but nodded her head in compliance. Regrettably, it did not take long for Carver and Bert to prepare the meals as she would have hoped. After they were finished, Norah and Bao grabbed the trays and headed to the rooms of their designated superiors. Bao off to deliver to Ermac's room and Norah to Erron Black's.

As soon as Norah left, Abigail grabbed the book that she had left unattended and tucked it into the pockets of her dress. Carver didn't notice it, but Bert did.

She flashed him a pointed look, almost as if she was begging that her having the book was a matter of life and death. Bert frowned, reluctant about refusing to address it, but saw the seriousness in her expression. Bert nodded slightly; he would keep his mouth shut.

Abigail flashed him a thankful look and went back to her room.

---

When Erron woke up in his bed, he was grateful for two reasons. One was because someone was kind enough to place him in his room to address the urgency of reason number two.

His vest, boots, kneepads, shirt, poncho and hat were discarded to the floor as he stumbled in the direction of his bathroom. Every task to remove it was laborious but relieving as he pushed open the door and closed it lazily behind him.

He collapsed to his knees, sweating heavily and puked into the medieval toilet that was nothing but an empty wooden box with a round hole cut in it. He lurched painfully into it, his hands clawing at the edges of it before he deplorably felt the most severe symptom of his ailment introduce itself finally.

His hand flew to his belt buckle, fumbling with it critically as his stomach knotted and mauled him viciously in pain before he felt the contents travel south through his intestines.

Black cursed under his breath. He did truly have cholera and he was experiencing the worst of it. His situation was now dire, and he doubted any of Shang Tsung's magic would offer him any reprieve.

Erron needed water—clean water to flush it all out.

Or it would kill him.

---

For the second time in a row, Norah waited impatiently outside of Erron Black's door with a tray of food in her hand.

Much like before, she knew that he was purposely making her wait to annoy her. Also, knowing him, it was a way to make it clear to her that she was his servant. She rolled her eyes at the thought; she had all the reminding she needed and now found it infuriating. His game was as enraging as it was the last time. With an annoyed huff, she pounded her fist on the door.

Norah knew that she was supposed to be practicing her 'killing with kindness' method now that he had returned to the palace, but her patience was at an end and she had not even seen him yet. She still had to feed Ferra/Torr and she was in no mood.

The more she waited, the inside of her cheek growing raw from constantly biting on it, Norah began to wonder if Carver was wrong. Regardless of the one successful example he had shown her and her peace with Ferra, the cup-bearer was starting to wonder if Black even deserved the effort.

Once more, she pounded on the door with three hard knocks.

After several moments, she felt like dumping his plate on the ground for him to find. Before she did that, she pressed her ear to the door to make sure that he was actually in the room. The last thing that she needed was him to come find her demanding why she hadn't waited for him to open the door.

Norah listened closely and could make out the sound of him groaning miserably from the other side. The sound was muffled, but she could hear it. She wondered why he was groaning until she heard him retching.

She understood perfectly now why he wasn't coming to the door.

He was indisposed.

Even with her hatred for him still powerfully present within her, she found herself torn on what to do. Her choices were to ignore that he was not feeling well and leave the tray outside the door. She could linger till he was able to come to the door and keep Ferra and Torr waiting. Her last option, and the most unsavory, was to open the door and see if he needed assistance.

She scowled slightly at the latter option. He hadn't been so quick to aid her when she needed help. Why should she offer any to him? The tray suddenly began to grow heavy in her hands, persuading her to leave it on the ground.

Norah was beginning to lower it, but when she heard him vomiting loudly on the other side, her conscious stung her like a vicious bug bite.

Truly, she wanted nothing to do with him; she would much rather he suffer in his ailment for all the grief he had caused her. However, Carver's sentimental strategy still whispered in her head. Even if it wasn't in his character to be kind to anyone but himself, it wasn't in her's to ignore someone who obviously needed help.

Norah leaned her head back, groaning in frustration. She had to at least offer to assist him, not for his sake, but for her nagging conscious that would not allow her to walk away.

She gave the door one last knock and after minutes of it going unanswered, her hand went to the handle of the door. Norah inhaled deeply, hoping that she would not be greeted with a gun on the other side, and pushed it open.

The baker hadn't been able to see the inside of his room the last time she was here — she had been too focused on their heated argument — and she was unsurprised at how bare it was.

There was a simple bed with white sheets and a large leather trunk at the foot of it. A large table on the other end that held most of his equipment; she saw the rifle and vest on top of the table while his gun belts draped over the top of the chair that had been pushed out. There was a large cabinet with large doors across from her, also adjacent to a balcony with double-sided doors that were open at the moment; she could see the light start to die over the horizon from the balcony that gave it a nice view of the marketplace.

Everything from the cabinet, to the table, to the bed and the floor of the room were the same dark brown color. It was simple and straightforward, much like he was.

Her head snapped in the direction of a door that was next to the bed when she heard him vomit once more and curse under his breath. Norah noticed the door was cracked slightly and could barely make out movement through the slender crack.

Norah placed the tray down on his table and went to approach the door, simply with the intention to ask if he needed her help.

She quirked an eyebrow when she saw his hat, boots, kneepads, poncho and undershirt littered on the floor that led in a messy trail to what she assumed was his washroom.

She felt uncomfortable the closer she got to the door, feeling as if it was very inappropriate. Her discomfort increased even more when he apparently must have heard her coming because the next thing she knew, he flew open the door.

Norah's eyes widened at his appearance; she knew he was sick, but she had not expected to find him in such a disheveled state.

He looked absolutely dreadful, and despite the glower he had on his face when he saw her standing there, she could read that he felt as miserable as he looked. Black had his hands braced against the door frame, looking as if it was the only thing holding him up and scowled angrily at her.

Even with the kohl still covering his eyes, she could see that they were sunken in; as if he was severely dehydrated. Her other clue that he might be in desperate need for water was how the sweat rolled off his face and chest like he had haggardly pulled himself out of a river. She was thankful that he chose to keep his dark pants on, because she felt very awkward enough with him standing there looking like a shirtless diseased rat.

He coughed laboriously at her and she grimaced at the roughness of it when she heard it. His eyelids drooped tiredly at her though she could still see how irate he was. Norah could tell he was displeased that she had walked unannounced into his room, but not because he didn't give her permission. It was obvious he was embarrassed to be seen by her in such a weakened state.

Any sympathy vanished for him by the looks he was giving her alone. In fact, in a perverted fashion, she found herself glad to see him in such poor spirits.

A smile tugged slightly when she recalled the words he parted with last time they saw each other at dinner. Considering the ironic nature of his situation, it was too perfect not to throw back at him.

"You know you look like shit, right?"

His lip curled up at her comment and he raised a livid finger in her direction, as if preparing to say something, until he noticed the tray of food behind her on his table.

The lump in his throat bobbed up and down as he smacked his lips roughly. With no more than an irritated grumble that was incoherent, he shoved her and stumbled towards the plate she had set down on the table. He reached greedily for the goblet of water, ignoring the food on the plate and lifted the cup to his mouth and engulfed it.

Norah couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as she watched him disgustingly suck down the water; most of it spilling out of the cup and his mouth and rolling down his neck. The mercenary carelessly discarded the cup, letting the goblet clang against the surface of the table before he coughed again.

He had swallowed it too quickly, and she watched as he threw it back on the floor.

Norah crossed her arms over her chest, indifferent, although she had a disgusted look on her face. It smelled awful; like water fish had lay deceased in, and she cringed at the yellow color of it. He had his hands on his knees and by the way he was dry heaving with achy gasps, it looked like he was truly, gravely ill. More so than she had initially thought he was.

Elder Gods damn it. Even though Norah knew he would resist her help, she could tell that he needed it. He was in no condition to take care of himself.

Norah cursed inwardly again, a deep frown on her face. For one day— this day— she wished she could have suppressed her conscious. For Carver's sake only, she would make the effort.

Still hunched over, Norah approached him and placed a hand against his forehead. She had expected to feel a fever, instead his head was cold and clammy and her eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Do you know what is wrong with you?" she asked him; she couldn't help but notice how deadpan her voice sounded.

She heard him huff angrily at her question, and her eyes closed for a moment. As if she was trying to muster enough concentration to push aside the spark of anger she felt within. She exhaled loudly and opened her eyes, her patience returning slightly.

"I can bring a healer to see you," she offered, her voice still lifeless.

Erron Black shoved her hand away from his forehead hard. Norah narrowed her eyes at him when he stood straight, doing his best to put on a stern demeanor but didn't convince her when she saw him wobbling from one foot to the other.

"Water..." he told her extremely curtly. "Get me... clean water."

Despite being as miserable as he was, his tone was unnecessarily rude. The ember of anger that she had felt previously began to dance around the inside of her. Norah could feel it, slowly igniting in the pit of her stomach and rising to her chest little by little.

She tried to dose her temper with her rationality. He wasn't feeling good. He was cranky. He was impatient because he was ill. The excuses she made for him did little to calm her nerves, so she tried to distract herself from her feelings when she realized his request sounded somewhat familiar to her.

Living near the poorer side of the city, she often came across people with the same symptoms he was experiencing and knew of the simple treatment needed. Noting his dehydrated appearance and the color of the bile on the ground, she understood exactly what was wrong with him.

"Did you drink polluted water?" Norah questioned. When she saw his lip twitch indignantly, a slight growl under his breath, she knew that he did.

"Why did you not take care of it—"

Black took a step forward to her, looking completely exasperated with her already, and fumed angrily at her as the sweat on his face continued to pour down his face in beads.

"Get me. Water. NOW!"

When he screamed those four words at her in the arrogantly discourteous and commanding tone, the air between them grew thick. Instantly, she felt her demeanor darken and the kindling anger that she had within combusted into an inferno.

It was incredibly ironic that on top of all the horrendous things he had done to her, it was four, simple words that made something snap within her and awakened some entombed demon that she wasn't even aware she had been repressing.

Maybe it was the memory of all the irreversible and despicable things he had said and done, or the pathetic acceptance of being a beaten and belittled servant by not just him, but others as well. It had to be a combination of all of it, because when he chose to spit those four words in such a resentful and flippant manner, something in her changed abruptly and she felt all her emotions flood her at once.

Four words and over the roar of the flames she felt within her body, she was able to make out three words and understood what was happening.

She. Was. Done.

All patience she had for him died immediately as she felt indescribable rage swirling within her like a vapor of red scolding steam that made it difficult to even decipher anything. Violent but steady puffs of air came noisily from her nose while her whole body rose and fell with each inhale and exhale.

The hatred she felt boiling up within her, nearly at the brim, was hot and smoldered while it shot through every vein in her body. She felt pain in her palms and knew it was because she was digging her nails into the flesh of her hand.

Her teeth clamped tight but her lips still twitched and pulled up, wanting to spew every scathing comment she had for him, but couldn't form coherently. Norah could already feel her jaw ache from the pain of clenching it so tightly.

Black said something, something offensive, but the sound she heard was muffled by her own dangerously clouded thoughts that screamed and pounded against her skull, wanting to get out. Mild coherency had returned for only a moment before he ripped it away from her with another disdainful comment.

"I said are you deaf or are you stu—"

Norah slapped him solidly across the face; the sound comparable to the shatter of glass and with enough force to send him stumbling back and land in the chair.

He looked surprised but livid as his cheek started to swell; a red mark exaggerated on the paleness of his skin. Despite feeling some of her anger taper down, allowing some rational thought to present itself, she still felt fulfillment and it was only the beginning.

"Do you have a dea—"

"SHUT UP!"

For a moment, she doubted it was her that had shouted the words but when she saw the stunned look on his face, it was proven it was indeed her. Since she knew him, his face dropped in concern at her for the first time, and much to her amazement, his lips pressed together tight; obeying her.

Norah seethed at him for several moments before she managed to grapple the words together in her head, forming them into a speech she wanted to make sure she had his full attention of.

She approached him, standing in front of the chair he sat, unafraid of him. They both knew he didn't have the strength and she understood that this may be the only opportunity that she might have to get him to truly understand all the pain he had caused her.

Norah's eyes drilled into his, wide with animosity, as she continued to breathe with dander out of her nostrils. Erron Black met her stare with narrowed, unimpressed eyes and it was enough to finally pull the words from her mouth.

"Allow me to make something clear to you," she began low and dismally, the words coming through her teeth, "I do not care that you are ill. After all that you have done to me, it is enough to give me satisfaction. I am also not stupid enough to treat the only person that can help you with such disrespect, but evidently, you are."

He opened his mouth to retort angrily...

"I am not finished!" she hollered loudly, silencing him. Black glared at her, but the only sound that came from him was another set of light coughing.

A breathy, callous laugh left her; almost as if scolding him for coughing in her direction: "Even after you threatened to kill me, I came in here to help you. Yet instead of gratitude for showing you the slightest bit of kindness— that you did not deserve— I am treated with nothing but contempt?! Do you see what you are?! Nothing but an arrogant, ungrateful, son of a whore!"

She must have said something wrong in her rant, because suddenly rage filled his own face at her. Norah ignored it as her head tipped towards him like a bull preparing to charge, her lip curled up in anger.

"I should turn my back to you. Much like you chose to turn your back on me when I needed your help back at my tavern— or have you forgotten already?"

His jaw clenched, but she could see the small flicker of regret in his eyes; her words sinking into him despite the stubborn demeanor he tried to falsely portray.

It didn't sway her in the slightest.

Whoever this person was that was addressing him, she applauded them. She was done with his ill-treatment of her and when she said she was done, she was undoubtedly done. This new angrier version of her finally had his attention and Norah was not going to restrain herself with thoughts of her repercussions — she honestly did not care in the slightest anymore.

"You wanted me to bring you water. Yes?" she mockingly asked.

Her hand backhanded the plate of food that she had brought for him and it clattered in a mess spilling across the room. Norah was unsure why she had done it; perhaps she just needed to hit something or bring her point across, whatever the reason, it felt good.

"AND I WANTED YOU TO HELP ME!" The words left her loudly and after they had died in the air, it left her feeling more wrathful than eased.

Black eyed the food on the ground in silence, his eyebrow raised slightly, before he fixed his attention back to her. His reaction furthered infuriated her more and she hadn't realized how much she wanted to have her revenge after all.

Still sweating profusely in the chair, ill beyond any capability to do anything, left him at her mercy and Norah had no idea when this opportunity would come again. She would not desert the chance to return a slice of what he had done to her. What to do though...

Angry tears ran down her face as her thoughts suddenly drifted back to the memory of the tavern. They had beaten her father to death before her eyes for something that they were not responsible for.

Shin, the kindest to them of the wretched brothers, had been killed accidentally on their last excursion to Earthrealm. Killed trying to retrieve the order of whiskey that Erron Black, the mercenary sitting in front of her, had paid them nothing for. They could not pay their dues because he had not bothered to ask how much he owed for their services. Black had not given them a single care how it would affect them, and he felt no remorse for not helping her.

She wanted nothing more than to make him feel the excruciating despair she had that day and she knew exactly how to make him pay.

Norah didn't pay attention to the tears streaking down her face, in a way, she wanted him to see them clearly so he understood what she would do next.

"For a moment, I thought you would walk back and help us," Norah admitted with a choked, bitter voice. "How stupid I was."

His eyes flickered to hers slowly and for a moment, she thought she even saw remorse, but she knew better that he only cared for himself.

Norah breathed a shaky sigh, her demeanor hardening despite the tears. "I depended on you because you were my only option. Now, I am yours."

She watched as his face frowned heavily at her words, and she could see that he detected the foreboding in her words.

Norah took a step to him, her eyes scolding him with a cold and stoic expression with a tone to match: "I am going to leave and you will wait— much like I waited— to see if I return or not to save you."

Black narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her, but Norah could still see the apprehensiveness in them. Her threat was not a light one.

She turned to leave, and she could hear him calling out for her to stop. Her answer to his request was slamming the door as hard as she could behind her before she marched in the direction of the kitchen. She was still debating whether she wanted to fetch him water, even though deep down, she knew her answer even when she made the threat.

Norah would let him linger and she would savor the time it would take to return to his room with water. It would not kill him yet, but she wanted nothing more than to let him experience what she did.

Norah would help him; regrettably, she would still help him. As tempting as it was to leave him to rot, she didn't want the stain on her soul. She smiled unenthusiastically at the thought; reminded of the difference between them. They both wanted each other dead, but he was willing to commit the sin without guilt. She, however, did not want to live with her guilt, breaking her from within, even though Erron Black earned every bit of comeuppance.

Like right now as she forced him to wait with doubt in his room.

Wondering if his enemy would rescue him.

---

Night had finally fallen on Z'unkahrah, the time that was destined to be their first attack of their plan, but they were missing the cue they needed.

Tanya and the Tarkatans took shelter in a housing building, killing all the residents inside after they had abandoned the wagons. They were all getting impatient— Tanya included. Rain was supposed to find them once they were in the city and he had yet to locate them.

The female Edenian, still undercover in her disguise, paced along the roof of the building, watching for anything that would indicate that he was nearby.

The city was beginning to grow sleepy and she preoccupied herself with watching the lights in the windows of the stone buildings flicker and die one by one; informing Tanya of how much time was passing by.

She sighed, her eyes looking even harder for some dark, purple clad figure stalking below the streets or jumping from rooftops. Tanya began to believe that maybe his side of the plan had gone poorly until she saw something spark slightly in the sky off in the distance.

On one of the rooftops, a couple of blocks down from her, she saw white jagged splinters, brighten for a moment before disappearing. They appeared again and Tanya smirked; it was Rain using a small percentage of his lightning to give her a simple signal to ask where she was.

She responded by using her own hand to ignite a fireball. It flashed, pulsating and dying as she presented it in his direction. The next thing she heard was the sound of water splashing nearby and turned to see Rain with an outstretched hand; teleporting to where she was.

"About time you decided to join us," Tanya greeted, the corner of her mouth tugged up in a slight sneer.

Rain ignored her and stepped forward as she began to disrobe her disguise and present her yellow clothes underneath.

"Are they ready to commence?" Rain inquired ardently, his voice pompously authoritative.

"With moronic eagerness," Tanya answered playfully sarcastic. She turned to him, an eyebrow raised. "Did you find it?"

"Without difficulty," he assured plainly.

Tanya's smirk broadened, it was all falling together so wonderfully and she was looking forward to their long desired assault on Kotal Kahn. Without wanting to delay it any further, she picked up her naginata that she had placed on the ground near the ledge and turned to him with a smile.

"Shall we?" she asked with a sing-song voice, her hand igniting a fireball in her hand; waiting anxiously to be unleashed.

"Send them," Rain grinned with malicious anticipation. "We proceed to the tunnel."

---

Ermac floated towards the missing carriages with his green hands glowing brightly in preparation. Along with him were the Osh-Tekk guards sent to accompany them.

Curious... the souls within him agreed; all of them seeming to come upon the same baffled judgment.

The carriages had been discarded on the poorer side of Z'unkahrah, near the underprivileged and dissolute area near the docks. It had taken them some time to locate them, but after sweeping the city, the souls were able to mold together the last location of where the carriages were last spotted through the unorganized mess their eyewitnesses provided them.

They had found all the wagons being looted once they arrived behind the cul-de-sac and the Osh-Tekk only managed to arrest a few of them. Currently, the thieves were on their knees off to the side, being watched by other guards, while the others inspected the carriages.

They sensed other beings within the wagons and Ermac knew they were deceased before the Osh-Tekk guard informed him of their discovery. Ermac offered a simple nod as their answer; uncaring of the dead drivers and more interested in why the Emperor's wagons were abandoned in such a manner.

Whispers of conspiracy carried through the vessel like leaves on the wind, begging the other souls to take notice of their words. Reluctantly, the others seemed to come to the same agreement. With the collective in concurrence, Ermac's eyes swept through the buildings, looking for any irregularities.

Screaming was the answer to their speculation and the wraith's head whipped in the direction of where it came from.

Ermac and the other Osh-Tekk caught the sight of people running the opposite direction, pursuing them and cutting them down like foliage in a jungle, were Tarkatans.

A glance towards the wagons was enough of an answer and they all agree unanimously on how the rebels could have entered the city without detection.

They floated in the direction of them, Ermac prepared to engage them as the Osh-Tekk ran alongside him to attack. There were not many of them, only ten bodies that would soon perish.

Ermac sensed him before it let out a voracious and monstrous cry to attack him. Their hand pulsated and souls sprung forth to wrap around the body of the Tarkatan. With a simple command, the souls shot him into the wall and snapped his neck from the impact. The wall cracked, small spider-webs now decorating the wall along with its blood.

Another dared to attack them, and Ermac shot his hand forward, blasting a ball of green mass that sent the Tarkatan spiraling backward and landing into another.

Raising both hands, he lifted them and slammed them together with the clap of his hands. They grunted in pain before Ermac spread his arms wide apart and sent them into the buildings, their heads snapping back and exploding against the hard stone of the buildings.

Ermac and the guards continued their defense, killing the meager force that started to target anyone that came within reach of their arms blades.

Ermac viewed the attack suspiciously. Brutes they very well were, but they were not foolish enough to just begin slaughtering without cause. Eventually, they managed to hunt them down, all the while navigating their way out of the docks and towards the center of the city— the Tarkatans trying to flee.

They caught the last one trying to run, grabbed him by the ankles telekinetically. They lifted him into the sky and rotated his hands in the opposite direction of each other. His body obeyed the movements and the Tarkatan's body twisted painfully; breaking his spine as his legs turned one way and his torso turned the other.

Ermac dropped him with a thud as he saw more people running away, coming in his direction.

"There are more of them!" cried a woman, running by. She went up to one of the Osh-Tekk guards, soaked in blood and pointed a terrified finger near the west side of the city.

"They are setting fires!"

The Osh-Tekk nodded to the woman and turned to Ermac, waiting for them to give the guard instruction. Ermac levitated higher and narrowed the vessel's eyes in the directions being attacked. The souls broiled inside as they saw the small glows of spots being engulfed in flames and brightening the residential districts; confirming the woman's claim.

Z'unkahrah was under attack.

"Inform the Emperor," Ermac commanded. The guard nodded his head and sprinted in the direction of the palace while Ermac left to deal with the areas being afflicted.

---

Another of the Kahn's guards noticed the orange embers along the vastness of the large city, along with the screams he could hear very quietly cutting through the night.

Reptile snarled in distemper, his acidic spit leaving his mouth and sizzling on the sand from the dune he stood on. He was several miles away still, but it might as well of been thousands of kilometers. He hadn't reached the city before Rain and Tanya had begun their siege. The realization set a wave of bitterness through him at his own failure.

He did not dwell on it for too long; he knew from overhearing, that this was only one step. There was still time to warn Kotal Kahn— the main prize of their plan.

Reptile flew down the sand dune, almost losing his balance as he ran in the direction of the city. He could still reach the Emperor before Rain and Tanya did.

The battle in the city was a decoy and he had to pass this knowledge as soon as he could.

Their main objective was a surprise attack within the palace walls by use of the escape tunnel. By seeing the city already under attack, it was obvious that the filthy Edenians had found it after all.

It only caused him to sprint his exhausted body towards the city even faster.

---

To be continued...