He wasn't supposed to be here. Panic flared in her, heart slamming against her ribs, her qi flaring around her hands again. There was no purpose in trying to hide it, not with the smug look Shang Tsung had. His hair fell loosely, tips almost brushing the gold and purple of the loose jacket he wore. She couldn't call it anything else; he was as bare-chested as Cage tended to be. Her mouth filled with the acid taste of bile at the thought. His mouth was tipped in a lopsided smile that bordered a sneer.
"And I had thought you only good for petulance and mopping. I'd had such hopes, and was devastated to see them dashed. Your deviousness is admirable." His steps were almost whisper-light as he moved into the room. "What other tricks have you learned, Sonya?"
Resolve shot through her spine, the immediate urge to defy him racing through her. "None of your goddamned business," she snapped back. The traitorous glow refused to leave her body. Shang Tsung only laughed, the sound echoing off the walls. She hated that he found this funny — she hated every thing about this. So much for keeping a secret. So much for feeling that she'd managed to keep something for herself, despite everything else happening. It was almost hopeless now; there was no way he'd leave her unsupervised, knowing what he did.
"I'll have to speak to Sindel about this. You've had an advancement, and this increases your value to her immensely." The smile slid across his face, sly and serpentine. "Unless you want to keep it a secret. In which case we'll have to evaluate our arrangement. I'm more than happy to keep some things quiet from your lovely… keeper."
The muscles in her jaw went taut, teeth grinding together. Control, keep it under fucking control.
"Go ahead and tell her. I can guarantee she'll be thrilled to know." She crossed her arms, chin pointing out. "You want to keep it secret, that's only a benefit for you. I don't care either way." It was half bullshit, but carried enough of a ring of truth to convince herself — and maybe him.
His lips moved with thought, fingers drumming on his silk-wrapped thigh. "We'll discuss it. Your caution is reasonable, and I must determine how best to assess your skills, and proceed with immediate training."
She had always known Shang Tsung loved games; manipulating people was just as pleasant and a larger test of skill than moving pieces around on a chess board. She had never particularly loved strategy games, but he was passionate about them with an intensity that transmitted through his usual detached attitude. It was no more evident than in how he decided to begin tackling her training. While they were silent stalking through the fortress' halls, the minute the door shut behind them, flaring briefly with a faint green glow, he went from silent to almost voluble as he pulled out a board game.
"Weiqi." He poured a collection of black and white stones onto a gridded board. She recognized it with a different name, but had come across it before. The smile on his face was all mouth, no eyes, as he motioned her to a padded seat across the table. "It is time for a little… experiment."
"I'm not your lab rat." She glowered, slowly sitting down.
"Call it an assessment, then. Playing a few rounds of this will give me an idea of where you lie in certain things. How best to progress with your training. Are you familiar with weiqi?"
"Place the stones at intersections, including the edges. Surround your opponent's stones, take them off the board." She'd played it once or twice in the Academy, but had never taken to the game. She had a feeling it was going to become critical.
She lost the first three games painfully quickly, thinking of the battles she was facing at the time, treating them each like skirmishes. With every lost piece, annoyance flared; she didn't trust the openings he gave her, rarely picking off the black stones she could have easily encircled. Each failure built frustration in her that she forced down slowly, and each gloating success sending little pulses of emotion through her, limning her forearms briefly in pink.
After the fourth game — still a loss, but slightly less painful — he rose from the table, leaving the board as it stood. "You have adequate control, but your impulse for moves is far too focused on the immediate engagement. You must learn to think of decisions in terms of a full campaign, Sonya. Not merely the opportunity in front of you — but the one in ten, twenty, thirty moves' time. A failing I can grant given the mortal mindset you still possess. You haven't wakened enough of the power within you to extend your life, yet." More of the green magic curled around his fingertips, trailing off in a soft smoky haze. "The purpose of weiqi is to dominate, overwhelmingly. The loss of one or two stones in the early stages, as you test your opponent, is not nearly as concerning as you make it seem. Especially over decades, centuries — what is one, two, a dozen? A hundred?"
Shang Tsung clucked his tongue dismissively. "Especially when you can take those lives, add them to your own. Add lifespan — and power. It will never quite equal the Edenian magics in some ways — but in others… Portals, Sonya. Greater strength and speed than anyone else from Earthrealm. You would be on par with Raiden's precious Champions. Liu Kang — or Johnny Cage. It requires training, and dedication. None of this… frivolity." His fingers moved as if flicking something off. "Eventually, you can call flames from your fingertips, draw souls from the willing and unwilling alike… Just think of it, Sonya. All that for your taking."
Her stomach lurched at the obvious satisfaction in his voice, as though he simply couldn't comprehend why she would decline. As though taking people's souls — the very things that made them what they were — and trapping them, or consuming them — was… normal. Expected. She could get behind the improvements to her body, strengthening her body and her spirit, finding a way to use this new energy as a weapon. But there was no power worth the price of someone else's soul.
"The first thing," he began, as though oblivious to her internal struggle, "is to see the extent of the skills you have. You are like a lump of metal right now, full of impurities. We must heat you up, remove those impurities, until we have something worth hammering into a valuable too. And you, I believe, will be most valuable."
His fingers moved, a green skull-like sphere forming in the confines of his palm. "Defend yourself, Blade. Nothing physical. Only your energy."
"Defend — what the fuck are you —" She hadn't more time to respond before the green magic sailed towards her. Her impulse was to defy him and duck; there was no use wasting her energy on him. She didn't know what energy she had.
At the same time, the absolute urge to find a way to surprise him and knock the smug duplicitous slimeball on his ass was way, way too fucking tempting. She hated being treated like an object, just another woman having to fight her way to respect. She was fucking tired of it. Where was Jax, who at least gave her shit in a way that didn't make her want to scrub her skin raw? She just had no way how to do anything. She raised her arms up as if to take a strike at him — or to use her gauntlets, sending waves of energy out from them to knock him back. That would serve him right.
Pink flared across one arm, bright and crisp, and then the green energy engulfed her hands in searing, screaming pain as nothing happened, no matter how hard she willed it.
"Disappointing. Again."
It was worse than the Academy's version of boot camp, when she had willingly agreed to this. God, where the fuck was Kenshi, when he could have just dropped in and stabbed Shang Tsung in the back, lopped off his head with that ridiculous sword of his? Where was he at the perfect opportunity? Probably hiding in a damn closet or waiting to drop out of the ceiling with some Batman monologue.
More green flames came towards her, not quite flung but certainly moving with intent. This time she did dodge out of the way, but not fast enough as some of the flames licked along her arms, leaving a red streak of seared skin and pain in its wake.
"What a strong, brave Earthrealm warrior." Shang Tsung brushed his fingertips off on the vest that framed his bare chest disparagingly. "No wonder Raiden had to rely on Kung Lao and Liu Kang for his tournament victories. Your Special Forces are elite?" Another flick of energy towards her, and a cycle that continued another half-dozen times as he goaded her, not even deigning to strike out physically. Cornering her slowly, as she tried to draw on the energy in her body that had once seemed a torrent but now was far more like a nearly-dry riverbed. It was a trickle compared to the raging flood she knew coursed through him — and had surely at one point at least thrummed through Liu Kang.
Learn, Liu Kang had told her. He'd cracked that joke — "The look on Kung Lao's face will be priceless." — and it had brought him a moment of laughter.
She could do this. If Liu Kang thought she could — if he felt it was worth her time, worth the effort, who was she to deny the monk?
Shang Tsung paused as he began to slowly reset the weiqi board, considering her momentarily through half-lidded serpentine eyes. "Perhaps it is your meridians that are lacking. I believe we can have those unblocked, in part. Don't worry, it won't hurt." Then he smiled, knocking the wind out of her. "Much."
Naked on a table was one thing.
Naked on a table having someone stick needles into her body was something completely fucking different. The man stabbing at her was the same healer that was treating Liu Kang, and having seen precisely what was happening with him didn't give her any encouragement whatsoever.
But this was acupuncture, allegedly a technique that would help cleanse her body and improve her qi flow and a whole bunch of other words she didn't understand but had a strange feeling she was going to need to.
And much to her horror — and Shang Tsung's undisguised delight at how uncomfortable it made Sonya — Sindel was sitting in a grey and purple silk robe, watching every precise little poke of golden needles into Sonya's skin. Somehow word of Shang Tsung's intent had gotten to the Empress' ears. She had summoned Sonya and the sorcerer to her chambers, announcing that if anyone was going to be poking things into her trophy it would be under her purview, and only after adequate explanation.
And then Sonya had been forced to demonstrate, like trained bear or monkey, why it was necessary.
The smile on Sindel's face was the one of someone showing a dog, told her bitch was best-in-show. Pleased and proud of nothing she had personally done, but achieving something by someone else's work. She hadn't gone so far as to ruffle Sonya's hair — that seemed casual, even for her — but had decided to sit in on the acupuncture session.
"You'll be wasted as a trophy in the arena. You and your little family alike. Think about the fine things that could be yours." Sindel leaned forward; at Sonya's angle, it offered an uncomfortably direct view of the Empress' cleavage, and Sonya was certain that it was deliberate. "I admit, you developing that kind of talent — and potentially becoming his student — was not something I had in mind. But it develops your use and purpose so I will allow it. It ingratiates you further into his confidences and schemes."
Sonya tried her best to level the other woman with a sour look, but it was difficult, on her stomach and her body stippled with the thin gold needles. "I wasn't planning on cozying up to him. This was not intentional."
"I find that hard to believe, Earthrealmer. And even if it wasn't, you have demonstrated you have value." Sindel pursed her lips, eyes dragging slowly down Sonya's body, once more like a woman evaluating her property rather than another person. "The sorcerer has requested to have you… properly dressed, now that you're his student. You've put me in a predicament — you're still Shao Kahn's trophy, but the sorcerer is intending to ply you as a way to increase his rank and value. I'm loathe to have you receive more special treatment… especially as it puts your position at risk. And you're useless to me without being in the sorcerer's rooms, able to spy on him." Sindel gave her another vaguely perturbed look. "We'll keep you there for now."
Something inside Sonya snuffed out with those words, a hope she hadn't realized she was nurturing. Some kind of privacy, solitude, peace of her own. A place that she could keep Kenshi, if it came to that — who the fuck knew where he was spending his days, or nights; she sure as hell didn't. He came and went as it suited him, and she still couldn't figure out how he did it. That potential of privacy, of escape, had been tantalizing — and then whipped away.
The acupuncturist clucked once, disapprovingly. "Remain still," he commanded. There was another small, sharp sensation as a needle slid in. Almost imperceptible, but not entirely.
Sonya stilled herself under Sindel's gaze, trying for her best scowl. "I've told you everything. He isn't exactly forthcoming right now."
"He will be, as he thinks you become useful. My husband and I agree on this." Sindel's mouth tugged a little again into a hard-to-read expression. "You need to work Kitana better, however. Or there will be no purpose in keeping her around. Mileena is scrambling, but she's proving more useful than her sister ever did." Sindel leaned back, crossing her legs at the ankles in a deliberate show of leisure. "Just don't think about reaching too high above your station. You remain a trophy, and a slave. An indulged and well-trained one, but one nonetheless."
Another needle slid in at the base of Sonya's spine, and she couldn't keep her expression still, flinching ever so slightly.
"That reminds me." Sindel tapped her immaculately maintained fingernails against her lips. "You and Cage. I'm sure he shared with you my… proposal… to him."
Sonya flinched again, this time having nothing to do with the needles in her skin and everything to do with the uneasy certainty she knew what Sindel meant. "The — kid thing?"
"We have evidence — in the form of that fine daughter of yours — that you two make wonderful children. And I intend for you to do just that." Sindel tilted her head, eyes meeting Sonya's. The faint purple gaze was searching, driving into her. "Shall I send for him?"
"I'll pass, thanks." She felt her skin ripple like a horse shaking off flies. "I'm not going to be useful for your plans if I'm puking up my guts because I'm pregnant."
Sindel smiled, her eyes flat. "You needn't worry. Acupuncture can do wonders for that."
Sonya scowled, brushing her hands over the new attire. Mileena sat on the stool, scowling in turn at the seamstress. The seamstress seemed oblivious to all the sour looks, perhaps inured to it by years of work. It was the kind of armor that quietly announced self-preservation and forced obliviousness, and was no doubt how the woman had managed to survive as Mileena's preferred seamstress.
When Shang Tsung had said he knew just the person to help sort clothing 'more befitting her station', the Tarkatan halfbreed had not been the person she had expected to be the one to meet her in Shang Tsung's chambers. Pure reflex brought Sonya up short, wondering about her survival — about whether or not Mileena had malicious plans — but then she took into account that the woman, for all her bloodthirsty, impulsive habits, did have a sense of fashion that was better than a one-piece leotard, or a bodysuit.
Or, Sonya admitted grudgingly, a cut-off tank top and a pair of colorblocked uniform pants. Which was decidedly better than other iterations of clothing she'd worn over the years; she tried not to think on high school and the jeans and half-buttoned-up vest combination. It was a miracle she'd never been expelled.
What she wore now was combat-ready, for which she was secretly grateful, but all of it had a flair of Outworld to it. Soft fabrics, not kevlar or reinforced; metal clips and caps that were more for show than served any purpose, the belt that wrapped low and intricate around her hips, the tall boots that felt like they belonged in Kitana's wardrobe rather than her own.
She felt like a girl playing dress-up, none of it quite comfortable, but close… enough. It wasn't Lieutenant Sonya Blade of the US Army any more, not dressed like this. She was still Sonya Blade, but she was of Earthrealm, and exactly what rank she held and who she was was definitely up for debate.
"It will do, for now." Mileena gave Sonya a look that had too many teeth, but it somehow seemed to make it into her eyes, the corners crinkling faintly. "You'll no longer look like a woman in someone else's castoffs, at least. It's more than befits a trophy." Her brow furrowed slightly with consideration. "If it had been my court…"
"Do I really want to know?" Sonya crossed her arms and was met with a sharp sound from the seamstress.
"I wouldn't have eaten you yet. You're… interesting." Mileena said it grudgingly, the words hard-fought and torn from behind her teeth. "You have the potential to be useful. Much as Shao Kahn used Shang Tsung as an Earthrealm informant, and Erron Black has served Shang Tsung. You could have served me." Her yellow eyes looked to the dressmaker, mouth full of pins and then back to Sonya, with the promise of continued conversation. "In another life, think of the wars we could have had." She tipped her head slightly upwards, looking at Sonya with an expression wavering between hungry and hopeful. "You would have been a good general. You're not afraid to do what has to be done, to make hard choices." Her eyes pierced Sonya as easy as any of her sai, trapping her in place. That wasn't hunger; that was… something else.
Something Sonya had seen in the mirror, coming out of her own eyes.
Sonya's stomach twisted at the thought, but she couldn't decide if it was hope or horror. She enjoyed being a soldier — she liked out-planning people, taking down the assholes and idiots of the world. She liked fighting, pushing her body to its limits and building new ones as she got better and better at what she did. Still full of the cocky assurance of youth, sure — that's what all the COC said about everyone under the age of thirty — but she was good, and she knew it, and she liked showing it, even if she didn't have all the command she would later.
The idea of being a general still thrilled her — General Blade had a certain ring to it — and…
The prick of the dressmaker's pin into her thigh snapped Sonya back out of fantasy and back to the dry, dusty, brutal reality. No. Outworld couldn't fucking tempt her like that. Kitana had already offered her a position, hadn't she? A position in her little resistance, a place of power and authority on her own. She didn't need the temptation.
But the fact that Mileena had struck to the heart of it was tempting and terrifying all at once. She seemed —
Not entirely awful.
What was this place doing to her?
With her new clothing, Sonya could start to pass as someone from Outworld. Her hair slicked back in a ponytail much like Mileena's, though tied with braided cord rather than her old knitted headband, she looked like maybe she came from some kind of rural village, still wide-eyed at the sights in the marketplace. Her skin was too pale, hair far too light, and her eyes achingly, painfully blue compared to everyone else here.
God, the only person she even kind of looked like was Erron Black, and wasn't that a fucked-up thing?
There were whispers as they walked, Mileena's attire — her old Kahnum's clothing, or something close to it — drawing attention. Sonya could hear them and was certain Mileena could as well, though she carried herself as though she was above it all. A predator stalking through the prey, not yet hungry — but she could turn at any moment. A wild beast, and from some of the nervous looks they were getting, one whose predations of years gone by had not been entirely forgotten.
She didn't fit in, and as she walked back in near-silence with Mileena, she had the most troubling realization of the day:
Sonya wasn't certain which she was meant.
The court scrambled when Tanya reappeared.
Sonya was not entirely certain how it had been done; Mileena had come and then they had spoken briefly, and then left. Sonya knew that somehow the woman had managed to have Liu Kang's healing managed and even accelerated, but she had thought little about how, only that it had happen. Then Mileena had come again and spoken with the sorcerer while Sonya had been at exercises she had been set. She had not paid much attention as Shang Tsung and Mileena had left his rooms, instead waiting until the door closed and several minutes passed, before stopping the exercises she had been set. Building little balls of energy in her hands and then reabsorbing them, building and reabsorbing them, was fucking boring and she would be damned if she spent any of her increasingly rare private time on it.
So instead she spent it poking carefully through his desk and several half-finished projects he'd left accessible. Not everything was worked on in the dungeons or wherever he kept disappearing to that wasn't Shao Kahn's side to ooze his schemes. She made one move on the weiqi board, just so he'd have something to complain about for her lack of focus, and stared at the objects on the table. What looked like a pair of bracelets, a thin circlet of braided wire with several hollow-looking gems, and yet more small jars with lids shaped as skulls or faces frozen in a rictus of terror.
He had a propensity to fine, delicate craftsmanship — a thing that surprised her, and she was almost willing to offer grudging respect for, if he hadn't been such an asshole otherwise.
She was digging through his desk when the first sets of feet went pounding down the hall, heels slamming on the stone hard enough to rattle the soul vials — and her teeth. A second rumble of feet followed several minutes later. Curiosity won out, and Sonya strode to the doorway, the heels of her new boots clicking on the floor in a way reminiscent of Mileena's own. She opened the door in time to see a squad of Shokan guards rounding the corner. Behind them was Shang Tsung, smug as anything, with a large tome tucked under his arm. Behind him strode Mileena, eyes snapping with a fierce emotion, and her arm supporting a nearly naked woman, dark hair in a rough-cut bob, her skin a tawny amber color. The only thing she wore was a cloth wrapped around her — a cloth, Sonya noted with narrowing eyes, that resembled one of the towels from Liu Kang's chambers.
They passed by Sonya with barely a sideways glance; Shang Tsung's mouth twitched slightly with restrained emotion, and Mileena's eyes snapped and sparked as they met Sonya's. The woman, barefoot and seeming groggy, leaned into Mileena. Mileena's fingers closed around her shoulder, stroking with a deceptive gentleness as they passed Sonya, followed by another handful of Shokan guards, weapons angled in a way that spoke more of prodding onward than of protection. Sonya watched them walk away, hearing the low whispers rise to murmurs and then full-volume speech as the party passed down the hall.
The hours that followed moved with a rush. There was no sign of Kenshi, which worried her — had the man made an attempt on Shang Tsung and failed? — and Sonya's attempts to visit both Liu Kang and Kitana were rebuffed by the Shokan guards set on their doors. Security had ramped up significantly. Annoyed, Sonya retreated back to Shang Tsung's rooms and pulled a book from random at his shelves, eyes glazing over as she read something about folding threads together to bring unity in a single step, high-browed and complicated ideas that just slid away from her mind. Sindel sent for Sonya, Shokan almost dragging her out by her collar, and marching her down to the throne room.
Shang Tsung, Mileena, and the other woman - she hadn't been given clothes yet, which rankled Sonya's sense of propriety and justice, as twisted as it was becoming - stood in a small circle just before the two thrones on their dais. Shao Kahn was leaning forward, one hand wrapped around the haft of his warhammer, voice ringing stridently through the room.
"I forbade this, Mileena! And you defy me?"
"A true Kahn takes what is theirs. Were you really so foolish to think I would sit and wait for you to allow me to get my beloved back?" Mileena's voice rose in response. Sonya eyed her as the Shokan led her to the front of the court gathering; if Mileena had been a beast, she would have had her hackles up and teeth bared. "One of your daughters sits meekly in her room. The other takes what is her due."
Shao Kahn's lips pulled back and he shook his head once. "You." He lifted a hand and pointed at Sonya. "What did you know of this, Earthrealmer?"
Breathe, Blade. Debriefing with a general. Just think about it like that. Yes, he could slam you into the ground with that hammer, leave you a smear of meat on the stone floor, but there was the narrow chance Sindel and Shang Tsung would intervene.
And was that — in the back corner, tucked up in the shadows, the faintest hint of glowing blue against the black? The tiniest tickle in the back of her head, a tiny touch like fingertips across her cheek or a wink across a room.
"Nothing," she answered sharply, hoping to hell it wasn't a lie. She tried to remember everything she'd overheard, how much of it she should have put together but she hadn't.
"He used your form." Shao Kahn's voice didn't waver. "You were complicit."
Blood fled her face, her body going frigid with anger before it flared into a fierce, livid heat. The purple-pink energy flared over her skin, licking outward with the rush of emotion. The room inhaled simultaneously, and Sindel —
Sindel eased back, reaching a hand across the space to her husband, lips moving inaudibly.
"In that he fucking took advantage of me? Damn straight. Your empress said he couldn't touch me. That was it. You should know by now that he's slime — he'll ooze his way around anything. I've kept up my end of the agreement made." The muscles in her jaw clenched tight, promising pain in several hours. She couldn't dare look at the three in front of the throne, and focused instead on her breathing, on controlling her emotions, pulling the flaring energy back under her skin. Now she would definitely be the source of gossip, if she hadn't already been, what with the new clothes and special interest from Sindel.
Shao Kahn stared at her.
Breathe, she reminded herself; you'll either be hamburger or survive this. He's a warlord who's conquered multiple worlds over thousands of years. Your lifespan is probably being counted in seconds. Don't piss yourself, just make it through.
The last of the energy slid back under her skin. She was certain she heard the echo of a chuckle from Shang Tsung fade in amongst the crowd, but she couldn't risk turning her head. She couldn't look away or blink; this was a staredown that her life depended on.
"Husband," Sindel interjected, her hand sliding down the bare skin of his arm, "she won't be much of a trophy if she's a mess on the floor. A waste of time and effort, and Earthrealm will have a death to rally around rather than a humiliation to endure."
Shao Kahn's lips pulled back, and then he turned slowly towards his wife. If this was a loss for him, it was due to intrusion — not Sonya's own success in holding her own. "You have a point, wife. Though she'd do with a reminder." His voice rumbled down through into her bones. "But Mileena is the problem today — not the Earthrealmers." His eyes turned back to Mileena and the woman beside her. "You defied my commands. I should have you put to death for this." His eyes narrowed to yellow-black slits. "But instead — you have been too busy here. Too busy by far. I will let you be busy somewhere else. You — and your Tanya — will return the keep in the Setian Valley to full force. You'll deal with the desert dwellers and await further instruction."
From the corner of her eye, Sonya saw Mileena stiffen at the exile placed so easily on her and her lover. If she could have bared more teeth, no doubt she would have.
"Will that be all, Father?"
"You are clever, Mileena, and that is the only reason you are not dead this moment. There is hope for you where there is none for Kitana, but I will not suffer your rebellion here with so many you can try to use against me." Shao Kahn's eyes flared. Mileena inhaled short and sharp, as though found out. "You have two days to see to requisitions — I am not entirely unreasonable — and then you will be gone."
"Did you not threaten her with death before, my Emperor? Why have you gone so soft now?" Shang Tsung's slick voice oozed into the space between breaths.
"If you're seeking a post to the Kuatan and the Shokan Palace by speaking out, you are sorely mistaken." Shao Kahn's teeth glittered in the firelight. "I do not trust you out of this place. You, remain. Everyone else — this is finished. There are private matters to discuss."
Sonya moved amongst the press of the courtiers, shoved out in the stream who had come to see Mileena's humiliation. The other woman seized on Sonya's elbow with talon-like claws. She bent over to hiss in Sonya's ear, words soft and vicious. "Come with me. Two days. Pack, prepare. We will build an army." The vice-like grip released and Sonya slid sideways, down a hall and back up stairs, towards Shang Tsung's chambers.
An opportunity to escape.
Cassie was confident that the Special Forces would come for her, and with her Johnny and Raiden and Fujin could escape. It was only Kitana and Liu Kang that Sonya needed to worry about. Was there a way — use Mileena as a cover to get them out, somehow? She didn't yet know how to build a portal, but maybe there was a way…
She stopped, stomach churning. There was something she could do, even though the idea itself made her nauseous. She played out her course of action as she took slow, deliberate steps down the hall, trying to still her mind and plan it out with tactical accuracy. It should work — if she was thinking about it all properly, it would work. Timing would be hell, and she needed to make sure everything was ready.
She returned to Shang Tsung's chambers and pulled a piece of parchment from his desk, scrawling a quick note to Sindel.
I've changed my mind.