"My master summons me?"
"I do. Rise, Tsung."
Shang Tsung, high Arch-Mage of the Emperor's Guild of Sorcerers, did as he was told, a shiver of fear running down his spine as he did so. This could very well be the last time he was before the Emperor. Suddenly, his body was very dear to him. He much preferred this Earthen form to his natural one. He wondered if that was what he was being summoned for – would the Emperor relieve him of his body, and place him back into his native demon form? Would his newly found youth be revoked? Or would he just be executed on the spot? He was about to find out…
"What is your wish?"
"Indeed. That is the question, isn't it?"
Tsung's nervousness raised a notch. This was a new and most unwelcome surprise. The Emperor was usually very abrupt in his dealings with his minions. That he had not already rebuked him for anything, or given him a command, was most unusual. This was the first time he had been summoned to the Emperor's throne room since the last tournament – presumably because the Emperor had more important matters to attend to, and had been recuperating his strength since his battle with Liu Kang.
He cursed that name inwardly. Not since the "great" Kung Lao had defeated him so long ago had he hated someone so much. Which was saying something – Tsung hated almost everybody. He had long ago promised himself that once Outworld was his, he would have the upper echelons of the military assassinated and replaced. They were treacherous, all of them, and Kahn had allowed them to
form plans of their own for entirely too long. He knew of no less than fourteen different plots to assassinate the Emperor, and that was within the upper ranks alone. The only reasons he did not report them was that he put no stock in their ability to succeed – and, of course, the outside chance that one would, leaving him in place to usurp the throne from the victor's hand. One day, he would start fresh. After Kitana, Rain, and all the others were dead.
But all of that could only come to pass once Liu Kang was eliminated.
Liu Kang…He forced himself to concentrate on the present, rather than forms of torture. All that would never come to pass if he died now.
"Sir ?"
"The question, Tsung, is 'why are you here?'"
"..you have summoned me."
"Evidently. And for a good purpose, of course." He got an impression of amusement and condescendence in that tone. Impossible to tell; the Emperor's mask prevented anyone from seeing his expression. Even if it was off – a rarity – the glow of green flames from the skull torches behind the immense throne of bones casted shadows over more or less the entire frame of his master. All he could see were the barest outlines of the spiked knee-guards, the outline of the helmet, and of course, those horrible, glowing, red eyes.
"But I want to hear it from your wretched lips, Tsung. Why do you believe I brought you here?"
This was it, then. The Emperor loved to torment the doomed.
"…you have brought me here…to punish me."
"For what?"
"My failures."
"Such as they are, yes." There was no mistaking the condescending tone now. Tsung closed his eyes.
"Name them."
There was no point in asking which ones.
"I failed to win the great tournament of Mortal Kombat, failed to defeat Kung Lao. I required prince Goro's assistance.
"I failed to maintain my grasp on the tournament after nine wins, falling to Liu Kang. I am also indirectly responsible for prince Goro's apparent demise.
"I failed yet again to defeat him – even after my lord gave me newfound strength and youth, in a tournament held by my suggestion. I am therefore also indirectly responsible for the deaths of my Lord's warriors who fought in said tournament, general Kintaro and the lady Mileena foremost among those."
"Well spoken, worm," said the dark voice from above him. "Now tell me something else." The dark figure seemed to lean forward slightly. "Why should I not execute you now?"
Tsung was silent for a moment.
"Well? Give me at least three reasons."
Breathing deeply, he made what might be the final bid for his life.
"Firstly…all that I have done, I have done in my Lord's name. He has my everlasting loyalty and servitude."
"I know this already...and your achievements are few and far between…"
Tsung swallowed.
"…but very well. Two more."
He thought briefly about arguing his case of losing to Kang, considering that the Emperor, too, had fallen before him, but dismissed it instantly. Kahn did not enjoy being reminded of his own failures. He opted instead for humility.
"It would be wiser to keep me imprisoned and tormented as a reminder of the price of failure to your other servants."
He hated to say this, but it was true. And he was certain that Kahn would at least agree with him on this.
A rumble of laughter almost too low to be heard echoed from above him. "True, my little sorcerer, very true. What is your final excuse?"
Tsung fought back an urge to collapse with relief. He wasn't free yet. "If I were to be executed now…there would be a great turmoil within my lord's Sorcerer's Guild, hindering their work greatly, especially the several special projects that have been in preparation for some time now. But which are soon to be completed."
"You have promised such things before."
"We are closer than ever, my lord."
Silence reigned for a full minute in the chamber. Tsung merely stood with his head bowed, awaiting judgement.
"Raise your head."
Tsung obeyed, again looking his master in the eyes, as much as it unnerved him.
"I will allow you to live, Tsung. But for one reason only. When I look into your soul, I see fear there. Which is as it should be. Your achievements mean nothing to me, and you can be easily replaced. The only point you had was your second."
Tsung froze completely.
He'll take my body away…he'll strip me of my powers…he'll keep me in a cage and…"However…based on the progress you and the Guild have made, you might be able to escape even that. Show me your work."
"Y…yes, my Master."
The ancient wooden doors to the main laboratory opened slowly, and all those inside stopped whatever they were doing and looked up.
"Master Tsung! We have those reports you requested on-"
The young assistant stopped in the middle of his sentence, and his gaze turned to the shadowy figure of the Emperor behind him. He gasped.
"Your M-M-Majesty…" Instantly, he dropped to the floor, bowing so low that his forehead touched it. The twenty or so other sorcerers, attendants, and assistants all followed suit. When he saw that all of them were prostrated before him, Kahn spoke.
"Rise."
They did as he commanded. "Please, go on with your work. Do not be disturbed by my presence…I am evaluating your performance as well." He looked down at the assistant who had come forward. "Out with it, small one."
"Yes, sir." He composed himself as much as he was able to, given his circumstances, and gave his report. "Master Tsung, we have analyzed the cellular samples you acquired, and believe that we can now complete the experiment."
"Good. And the correlation?"
"We have managed to integrate all the cells perfectly. They're ready. All we need now is a drop of life, so to speak."
Tsung turned to his Emperor. "This is the ultimate warrior I spoke of, lord. This is a labor many months in the making."
"The amalgamation of great warriors?"
"The very same."
"Whose samples did you use?"
"Many, my lord. Some of them are your finest men. Two skin samples, those of my bodyguard Reptile, and general Rain's were donated upon request. We had the lady Jade collect samples from the Lin Kuei ninja Smoke, and from Noob Saibot, who, if you remember, refused to donate a sample."
"Indeed. How did you manage that?"
"The last two?" Jade confronted Smoke when she first met him in the lair of our late Shokan prince, and shortly afterwards she began a battle with Saibot under the pretence of questioning his loyalty. Fortunately, she escaped alive from both encounters."
"So that was what that battle was truly about…that was a great risk." Kahn rumbled. "You should have contacted me. I would have ordered him to make a donation."
"I respectfully remind my lord that he offers us his services. He could have refused. We do not have any type of control over him, and I don't trust him. In fact, I-"
The Emperor silenced him with an upraised palm. "Later. Who else?"
Tsung nodded, knowing better than to press the point. "You will be most pleased, my lord. We have managed to acquire some of the essence of the spectre Scorpion from the remains of the late Sub-Zero, whose cells are also being used in this experiment."
"Were those remains not stolen?"
"Indeed, they were. But not before we found what we needed."
"You said essence. Not a direct sample?"
"Impossible to take a sample from a spectre, of course. But when Scorpion killed Sub-Zero, the flames he spewed from his skull…" Tsung felt uneasy, speaking about it. "…they left the remains altered at a very basic level. In short, we used one sample, and acquired another for free. It was quite a surprise, and unexpected, but we have been able to work with it, after some difficulty."
"Very good, Tsung." He could almost see the smile behind the mask, and knew that his future now had some form of substance to it. "This could come of some use to me in a forthcoming campaign…"
"My Lord?"
Again, the dismissive wave. "Any others? What about the nomads?"
"Due to the…instability and unpredictability of their race, we felt it was safer to leave them out."
Kahn nodded slowly. Tsung suspected that no one wanted any more nomads like a certain bladed maniac running around than was necessary. "We have used one more sample, my liege – that of the failed experiment."
"…I see. And how is that faring?" There was displeasure in the tone
"If my Lord will follow me, he shall witness for himself." Tsung began to walk further into the laboratory. Kahn motioned for two of his guards to remain where they were, and walked after him. Along the way, Tsung decided to explain his decision for using a sample from a failure. "We believed that the tissue of a being composed of a great amount of souls would assist in the merging of the samples we acquired. We were correct. In fact, it as only after we introduced this particular sample that the cells of the spectre began to cooperate with the others."
He did not mention that Noob Saibot's cells also had exhibited difficulty merging with the rest until they had introduced the 'experiment's' sample. If Kahn didn't want to hear about Tsung's concerns regarding Saibot, he wouldn't. He resolved to put the matter out of his mind – for the time being, at least. In the meantime, he would keep a distant eye on the shadowy spy.
"So tell me, Tsung…why these cells in particular?"
It was a question meant solely to irritate him. "These warriors have great potential, each and every last one of them." They are very alike in their basic structure – each individual is quick, strong, and has great powers. Ah. Here it is.
"This is Ermac, my lord. Or what is left of it."
They stopped before an immense transparent crystal structure, round and cylindrical in shape. It stretched from floor to ceiling – about eight feet high – and within the crystal, a strange type of green energy flowed. As they watched, it became smoky in appearance, and then solid, making the entire structure seem light green. It then took on the form of a whirlwind, and after that, a series of interlocked rings. It became a small, glowing orb, and went back to being smoky. It continued in its random pattern as Kahn spoke.
"Why did it fail?"
"I could explain this for hours, outlining the technical details, but the short answer is that it needs more souls." Tsung remembered the last time they believed they had given this thing sentience – they had found it floating, more or less, out in the wastelands, in a form halfway between humanoid and mist, and had succeeded in bringing it back here. They had formed a solid body for it, and implanted the mass of dead souls – for that is what they deduced it was, after much deliberation and experimentation – into it. It was given a name, and instructions to spy on the Earthrealm warriors during the last Mortal Kombat tournament on Earth. It had performed that job well, but when it came back to report, it had stopped before speaking, clutched its chest, made strange otherworldly screams, and abruptly and violently exploded, killing three of the emperor's advisors. Since that time, it had remained in this soul containment chamber, where it was studied and observed.
"Indeed. If it had more, it
would live?"
"We think so, yes."
"How many more?"
Tsung considered. "We estimate perhaps another sixty or so."
Kahn nodded once, barely. Then, like a flash of lightning, his left hand shot out and grabbed Tsung by the neck, and lifted him a foot above the floor. The helpless sorcerer gasped, and clutched at the wrist of the arm that held him aloft. He began to choke. The sorcerers nearby watched in fear and awe.
"Ghhh…my Lord…glk…what…hkkk…akkk…"
"Know this," the Emperor rumbled. "You have failed me, Tsung. More than once. Many times. However, your work here pleases me. You have made more progress than I expected for a worm of your quality. However, I expect that is due more to the diligence of your fellow sorcerers than to any effort on your behalf."
"No…hhhh…please….ghkkkk…"
"Here is my judgement, Tsung. Your punishment for failure, and your reward for your work…
The Emperor raised his other fist, and it trembled. As it did so, Tsung's chest rocked violently, surging forth. He began to scream, but the Emperor closed his fist tighter around his neck, shutting it off.
"…the chance to see your creations live…"
A green mist began to pour from Tsung's eyes and mouth, towards the Emperor's quaking fist. Soon that was barely visible, swarming as it was with many of the souls Shang Tsung had taken over the ages.
"…at the price of your suffering."
The last of the mist flew sharply towards Kahn's fist, and the Emperor relaxed his grip. Tsung gasped, and then fell to the floor as his lord dropped him. His breath came in gasps, and he could not move, merely watch as Kahn turned back toward the chamber. The souls inside were now somewhat visible, and briefly, faces could be seen screaming silently, as though they sensed the pain the ones around Kahn's hand felt.
"This I do command…"
He thrust his arm forward, and opened his fist at the same time.
"Live!!"The souls flew from Kahn's outstretched arm into the chamber. There was a blinding light, and an invisible wind knocked over some candle-holders, and set pages on books flipping and turning. All present covered their eyes, save Kahn. Tsung managed to close his eyes tightly.
The light began to fade, and suddenly there was the sound of hundreds of tortured souls screaming, then the sound of something shattering. Tsung felt his face become sprinkled with broken crystal. The screaming began to die down, as did the light, becoming the screams of dozens…then tens…and seconds later, two…which quickly became the sound of a single, terrible, human scream.
Tsung opened his eyes. Kneeling in the remains of the chamber was a man, nude, bald, hands clasped to his head, eyes shut tight as if fighting off some debilitating pain. Finally, his scream stopped, and he opened his eyes. His eyes were emerald green through and through – no white whatsoever. Slowly, he lowered his arms, and closed his mouth. He looked at his surroundings, then at himself. He ran his newfound hands over his arms, and chest, and face, as if trying to understand what he was.
After a moment Kahn spoke. "Can you understand me?"
The figure looked at Kahn, remained silent. He too, spoke, and when he did, it was an ordinary voice, nothing overly special. But there was a haunting quality to it.
"Yes…"
"Know you what you are, where you come from?"
"No."
"Know you who I am?"
"You are…" the figure looked deep into Kahn's eyes, and from there, to the half-dead sorcerer lying on the ground to his left. He looked around the room, and back at Kahn.
"…my master?"
Kahn nodded. "Yes. And your name is Ermac."
"Ermac…"The figure repeated it, and nodded in return. He rose to his feet. "I understand. What is it you require of me, my master?"
"Nothing for now." Kahn raised his arm, and with his two fingers motioned. In a heartbeat, one of his guards was at his side. "Accompany him to the training grounds, and clothe him in the garment of a general fifth class. After that, bring him to the library. Whatever he does not know, have him instructed upon."
"Yes, my lord." The guard turned to Ermac. "Please, follow me."
Ermac nodded again, and stepped down from the chamber. He gazed at Tsung's fallen body once more, and followed the guard out.
Tsung struggled to get to his feet, and was vaguely surprised when Kahn helped him up, pulling him up by the hand.
"Congratulations, Tsung. I believe we have a success. Let us see if we cannot have another." He raised his left hand again, and Tsung almost screamed for mercy. But he saw that one soul was still twined around Kahn's index finger, like a tiny snake. He had kept this one. "Where is the amalgamation?"
"Follow me, my lord," Tsung said. It took a good deal of strength, and he wondered how he would make it down the hallway. He left his black skullcap on the floor where it had fallen – he hadn't the strength to bend and pick it up.
Fortunately, Scarlett, his pupil, had been present during the whole ordeal, and she deftly stepped over, and draped Tsung's arm over her shoulder, helping him to walk. He wanted to slap her and thank her at the same time. She assists me, but also shows my weakness before the others. He considered for a moment, then decided it was of no consequence. All paled before the might of Kahn, and they knew it.
They made their way down the hall, to the next chamber.