The room was small, devoid of much detail. There was the trunk of personal possessions, and the katana under the bed. Also present was a small wardrobe which housed his various outfits for training, missions, and camouflage, but that was about it. Most Lin Kuei didn't need much, and they wanted for little. But one thing they all required was rest, and right now, one of them was having difficulty finding it.
Sub-Zero lay rigid on his bed, eyes wide, staring at the ceiling. Try as he might, he had gone through all the relaxation techniques he knew of, and still could not find rest.
Although he was of course, troubled by the recent events in Outworld, he had found a new source of perturbation.
Upon returning from their journey, he and Smoke had been surprised to find strange things taking place at the headquarters of the Lin Kuei. They had witnessed members of the clan transporting foreign and dangerous-looking machines around the halls.
With a considerable haste, Smoke had pointed out. Their fellow Lin Kuei had not wasted a moment in speaking with them. Not unusual given most members' preferences of seclusion, but there were usually snippets of conversation to be had in the halls and training rooms dispersed throughout the building.
In the time since they had returned, Sub-Zero had spoken to exactly three people; the first being Smoke, with whom he had sparred on a daily basis, the second being a relatively young recruit who had been almost as clueless as he to the matters of the machinery, and the newly imposed silence.
"What is the purpose of this equipment?" he had asked.
"I do not know. We are merely ordered to bring it to a storeroom in the back. There are hired technicians working there."
"How long have these been coming in?"
"Perhaps a week now."
"From?"
"Again, I cannot say. But I do know they arrive by helicopter."
"Why is it so…quiet, so suddenly?"
"It is the Grandmaster's decree that we are to remain as swift as possible, and waste not a moment in unnecessary speech until we are told otherwise. We must devote all our energies to our tasks, such as they are appointed."
He had bowed to him, and left. As he did, Sub-Zero had tried to piece it together. It seemed likely to him that they had been acquired through black market trade routes. From the general look of the equipment, he could tell that it was highly advanced, cutting-edge technology, perhaps military in origin. He had never seen anything of the like before.
The third person with whom he had spoken was a guard posted outside the Grandmaster's personal chambers. He had requested an audience with the head clansman, and had been denied.
"The Grandmaster is presently occupied," the guard had said. "He is in the midst of negotiations for future contracts. I will relay your request."
So that was that. He had received no response, until the same guard had come to his chamber several hours ago, and informed him that there would be a gathering, taking place tomorrow morning in the grand hall.
Highly unusual, that. This was a far cry from the typical routine he and the rest had been accustomed to; be given a mission, carry it out, and upon return, wait to be assigned another. That a gathering had been called implied one of two things; either a large group mission – extremely rare – or that a matter of critical importance to the clan as a whole was to be discussed. He bet on the latter.
Undoubtedly, something to do with this machinery, he thought. Perhaps the clan is truly changing with the times…we are moving closer to the new millennium, after all…
He was jolted out of his thoughts by a voice coming from directly above him.
"Heard the news?"
Sub-Zero had to crack a grin. His friend's taste for inane humor was insatiable. He looked up at the light fog that covered the ceiling. He hadn't even noticed him enter.
"Yes, just now. So it appears all this will be explained."
"I should hope so."
"How long have you been in here?"
"About ten minutes. Why?"
"You should really learn to knock."
"Oh…a jest, coming from you? That is a rarity. Am I to presume your mood has improved?"
The grin faded from his face. "Yes and no. I'm trying not to think about the spectre, but it is difficult. What preoccupies me now are the changes being made here."
"What do you mean?"
"You've seen them. These machines being moved in, day by day. I worry…are we forgetting our ways? Forsaking the old customs in exchange for power?"
"As much as I dislike it, these things are up to the grandmaster to decide, Sub-Zero. Not us. Perhaps he is a questionable individual, but he did not come to lead us by being a fool. One could assume these devices are for the clan's benefit."
"But at what cost? Nothing is for free. There is always a price to pay."
"Sub-Zero, there is a saying I enjoy that pertains to this particular situation."
"That being?"
"Stop your sissy bitching." There was a muffled chuckle from above him.
Another smile. "You spend too much time in America."
"One learns interesting things there."
"Get out of here. You should be sleeping too."
"'Nice work, if one can find it,' hm? I will see you tomorrow."
"Until then."
And then the smoke that was his friend was gone, and he was alone again.
He surprised himself by drifting off to sleep almost immediately, content that in the morning, answers would come.
It was the last rest he would enjoy for some time.
Dawn came, and with it, the singing of birds, and the rustle of the wind in the trees. He awoke, and looked out the sole window of his room. The skies were grey, and clouds hung low overhead.
He walked over to his wardrobe, and having no need for the full uniform, chose a simple training garb for himself; black arm-straps, black leggings with dark blue overlay and stitched-in shin pads, and a simple set of dark blue chest-pads connected at the solar plexus by another black strap. He fastened on a light grey belt, and headed for the audience hall.
The room was immense. Oval-shaped, with the familiar Lin Kuei emblem carved into the center of the cobbled stone floor, an inverted triangle with a ring piercing each corner. Twelve gargantuan stone pillars lined the walls, and at the back, set into the wall, was an upraised dais. There were no seats. The two hundred or so Lin Kuei who entered took pre-assigned positions at the floor, and knelt into the usual sitting position.
Sub-Zero noticed for the first time the heavy curtains that stretched from the ceiling to the floor of the dais, concealing the rear half. This was new. Something was to be revealed. Apparently, the grandmaster had a taste for the dramatic.
It was approximately six-thirty in the morning. As the Grandmaster himself strode into the room, through the path in the center that had been left for him, and up onto the dais, accompanied by two aides, the conference began in earnest. He turned to face them, and bowed, his long flowing robes adorned with a thin red overmantle, which stretched to the floor. His face was completely concealed by a black hood, and a red mouthpiece. However, this did not muffle his voice in the slightest. After the legions had bowed back, he spoke in loud, authoritative tone.
"You, who compose the Lin Kuei, I welcome you. Doubtless, some of you have been curious as to the goings-on recently. I shall waste no words in providing you with answers.
"The quiet that I imposed was to prevent the spreading of rumor. I am certain that many of you have your own thoughts and beliefs as to what is happening. As disciplined as I am aware you are, such unusual events would have surely led to gossip amongst our ranks, which in turn would have led to unease. You may now consider that silence at an end. For now, I shall provide you with the answer to the other questions that are surely burning within your minds.
"It is a new era. As our world moves closer toward the new millennium, so do our sciences evolve. We have seen advances in the technologies of medicine, warfare, and information. The times have changed. But the Lin Kuei, for centuries, have not.
"We can no longer afford to remain attached to the means and measures of old. In these past few decades, the requests for our services have become fewer and farther between. It is true that we have ever operated in secret, allowing the rumor and myth of our existence to reach the ears of those who would have our skills at their behest. But as stated, we are quickly becoming forgotten. If this trend continues, within years, we will have become obsolete. Who will hire an assassin, when the work can be performed with an attack from a homemade explosive?
"That is why we too, have now chosen to evolve. To move with the flow of time, we must make ourselves known again, as an entity of undeniable strength. Of power.
"Several years ago, the Russian government began a classified project within one of their scientific research branches. The intent of the research and experimentation was to improve their soldiers on a physical level, using a primitive set of mechanics. It failed, and the funding was cut. However, plans and diagrams for the project's innermost workings were leaked, and have since wound up in our hands. We have spent a great deal of capital upon further research, and ultimately, development of these plans, and I am pleased to announce that the process has been finalized and completed.
"Where the rest of the world has evolved their sciences…we have evolved our warriors.
"I give to you, the first of the new Lin Kuei."
The Grandmaster's aides rose from their positions near the foot of the dais, walked up, and parted the curtains at the center. There was a muffled gasp from the crowd, as the being there was displayed for all to see.
Standing at the center of the platform, before a bizarre upright bed connected by wires to various computer banks, was a figure clothed in red armor over a black bodysuit. The armor covered the entire chest, shoulders, and was placed in strategic areas over the biceps and forearms. A complicated-looking metal belt was strapped over a red loincloth that seemed to be made of tempered steel. Hexagonal metal joints replaced the knees. The boots were solid metal, with red touching up the feet. The hands, although sheathed in the bodysuit, were covered in odd places over the knuckles and wrists.
It was bipedal, but it was not human. That much could be ascertained by the simple act of beholding its head.
It was not a helmet, but a mask that was attached to the cranium, which featured black wires coming out from the back, similar to dreadlocks. The forehead was white, with a narrowing black gash that sunk into the skull, leading down to the eyebrow ridge. Everything below that was concealed by a red faceplate, gashed with slits, covering the lower half of the face.
The eyes were completely covered, replaced by rectangular black pools of darkness outlined in a red which sloped up past where the eyebrows would be."This is Unit LK-9T9," said the Grandmaster, with a discernable amount of pride. "Codenamed Sektor."
Everything fell into place, and Sub-Zero could not believe what he saw and heard.
"It was a dangerous procedure, but he volunteered. His loyalty to our cause will forever be remembered. He has become something far beyond human, beyond mere assassin. He feels no pain. He knows no emotion. And he is equipped with over sixty different types of weaponry.
"Show them."
Sektor stepped forward. Sub-Zero silently marvelled at the sheer mechanical horror behind it, how this…bizarre entity before him had been a human days before. He recalled the last time he had seen Sektor, in human form…he had passed him in a hall. They had exchanged no words. Sub-Zero had not particularly cared for him. Sektor was thought by many to be arrogant and haughty, and he was inclined to agree. But it was indisputable that he was also a fine warrior, and fiercely devoted to his clan. This…just seemed like a mockery of what he had once been.
Even his arrogance was better than this…mechanical apathy, he thought. If he cannot feel emotion…then how can he be considered alive? More importantly, how did they do this to him?
His attention was called back to the spectacle. Sektor raised his right arm, and a blast of flame burst from it, flying over the heads of the onlookers. With his left arm, he released a blast of electricity. He withdrew his arms, and thrust his chest forward. Another murmur escaped from the crowd as his chest plate parted in two, revealing an array of missiles. These swivelled about to be replaced by what appeared to be a grappling hook, next to a pistol and a small, unidentifiable device that looked to be nothing more than a handle of a sword. These weapons were swivelled aside as well, to show a series of nasty-looking orbs, which Sub-Zero correctly surmised were bombs. The chest plate closed, and Sektor stood mute, awaiting his next command.
The Grandmaster stepped forward. "Impressive, is he not? He has much more at his disposal – but more information on his arsenal will be forthcoming. For now, allow me to demonstrate to you the transformation as it progresses."
He nodded to his assistants, who moved over to the vertical, standing table surrounded by the computer banks. They wheeled it around, and with the touch of several controls, the table slid down to the floor, but at an angle, so all could see the second subject who lay there.
"As you can see, this is a work in progress. But in moments, after completion, you will behold unit LK-4D4, better known to us as Cyrax."
It was a grisly sight, and it pained Sub-Zero to see it. Cyrax had worked with Sub-Zero on a number of missions, and although they were hardly friends, they had shared a respect for each others' abilities. Cyrax was a skilled warrior – but now he could not be said to be more than so much meat on a table.
African-American, powerfully built, with a slender face and kind eyes, he was at the moment unconscious, and sporting nothing more than black leggings. He was shirtless, for his ribcage was split open, and the same type of weapons pack that had been inside of Sektor's chest had been surgically attached to Cyrax's organs, through a process Sub-Zero did not want to understand.
The only difference was in the color of the pack's casing, which was yellow rather than red. Upon close scrutinization, Sub-Zero could just barely see the slow expansion and contraction of his lungs behind the pack. He was breathing, but very faintly. A nearby tank pumped the needed oxygen into a mask that covered his face. It could not be seen clearly from the angle, but Sub-Zero could tell that Cyrax's head had been operated on, as well.
"Now, then. Witness for yourselves how the perfect Lin Kuei is created."
The Grandmaster gave a nod, and the two aides moved over to the computer terminals. One of them grabbed hold of a panel, which seemed to look like a large tanning lamp, and manoeuvred it into place over Cyrax's body. He began to adjust controls, and after a full five minutes of pressing buttons, flicking switches, and adjusting dials, one nodded to the other, who threw a final, large switch.
Instantly, Cyrax was bombarded with an eerie, pulsating red light. A low hum reverberated around the chamber.
And Sub-Zero watched with mixed revulsion and fascination as Cyrax's organs changed, metamorphosing before his eyes from flesh and blood into steel and black fluid, bone into piping, veins into wires.
After a minute or so, the two aides powered down the machinery, and wheeled a cart over towards the body. Laid out upon the cart were yellow replicas of Sektor's helmet, boots and armor, as well as a black bodystocking, and various weapons to be fitted inside the pack. Once those were in, the gash was sealed shut. Sub-Zero did not know what the skin was now composed of, but it healed almost instantaneously, bonding to the weapons pack.
The bodystocking was fitted on, as were the armor pads over the arms and shoulders. Holes were cut so that the chest panel could show through, as well as the metal joints at the knees and knuckles. The boots were placed over the feet. And finally, the oxygen mask was removed, and the battle mask was slid into position over the face, attaching to the head, which was surgically altered and fitted with a metal casing.
"Arise," said the Grandmaster, simply.
And Cyrax did, amazingly sitting upright from the table and undoing the straps that held him there, despite the incredible procedure he had just gone through.
"What is your name?"
The voice that emerged from the being was hollow and mechanical, sending chills down Sub-Zero's spine.
"I am designate LK-4D4."
"What is your function?"
"I am programmed to carry out the commands of my superiors, the headmasters of the Lin Kuei."
"Do you remember anything?"
"This unit activated as of .005 hours. No pertinent records of interest. Details include basic movement of 2 feet, designate interrogation, function int-"
The Grandmaster raised a hand. "That will be enough. Tell me…how do you feel?"
A short pause. "Does not compute."
The Grandmaster turned back to his audience. "As you can see, they possess no emotion. They are self-sustaining. And they harbor no desires, other than to serve.
"I am sure that now you have even more questions. I can imagine what some of those are…and I will state that we will not reveal the exact nature of the automation formula. That is a closely-guarded secret."
He walked around Cyrax, giving him a look-over, speaking as he went. "I imagine that you are also wondering the obvious…how many of you will be made over in their image?" he laughed softly. "Not many, I am afraid. The procedure is still experimental. We have no knowledge as to whether or not there may be defects. Time will tell. For now, we expect to produce two more."
This is wrong, the ice warrior thought. Completely and totally wrong. He speaks of them as though they were products.
The Grandmaster stopped his examinations, and looked over the audience of Lin Kuei. Disappointment could be heard in his voice as he spoke anew.
"Another reason for their construction is certain failures as of late. In the past year, we have lost five of our valued members, on missions that should have required little effort. With these cyborgs, we will drastically reduce, if not eliminate altogether, our margin of error."
We are not a clan…just tools to him, and the rest of the masters…"In effect, we have come to believe that the Lin Kuei are beginning to show signs of weakness as a whole. This will not be tolerated.
"As a matter of fact, as I look at you now, I can see fear in many eyes. A fear which should not be. I speak truth when I state that you have nothing to concern yourselves with. Those of you who are too weak will not undergo this process. In fact, we have selected two of-"
"Enough!"
All eyes turned toward the voice. It came from Sub-Zero, who was standing on his feet, fists clenched at his sides. Hatred burned in his eyes as he stared at the Grandmaster.
"I have seen enough!"
"Sub-Zero! What is the meaning of this outburst!? Do you dare to question the decisions made by the headmasters?"
"Yes, I do." He shook his head, incredulous. "This is nothing short of abomination! To invite technology into our world, our business, I can comprehend. It could very well assist us, make our tasks easier to complete. But this…this is madness!"
"Your words are treason!"
"You have extinguished the souls of two noble warriors, and transformed their bodies into mindless puppets!"
"Puppets, indeed! You cannot deny their prowess!"
"Strong though they are, they have no life of their own. They will never again smell, nor taste…nor feel! This process of yours is no more than slavery, cleverly branded as a new dawn for the Lin Kuei!"
"You are blind, and a fool. This is the new way."
"Were my brother alive to see this madness, he would have left the clan. As I do now."
Inwardly, Sub-Zero felt a shiver of fear. He would be executed for this. But he knew that it was what he had to do. He reached to his right chest-pad, which had the emblem of the Lin Kuei fastened on to it.
So that they would remain untraceable in the event of their death, the Lin Kuei bore no markings of their clan with them on missions. But the training uniforms, which never saw the exterior of the headquarters, did.
He grasped it, and ripped it from the fabric, allowing it to drop to his feet. There was muttering from the crowd, and a stifled gasp.
The grandmaster was silent for a moment. Then he spoke, voice low and ominous.
"Your brother…was a failure. A shame and embarrassment to us all…as are you."
"Perhaps so," said a voice. "But one thing he was not, was a dishonorable, cowardly lunatic. And you, 'Grandmaster', fit that description well."
All eyes turned again. Smoke had arisen from his spot across the way, closer to the exit.
"A curse on you, and this pathetic excuse for a clan. I too, will take my leave of you." He moved to stand beside Sub-Zero, arms folded.
Sub-Zero smiled. At least he was not alone.
The Grandmaster's chest could be seen rising and falling. He was epileptic with rage, and did not attempt to conceal it.
"Are there any others?!" he screamed, searching back and forth across the audience. "Who? Who else dares defy our will?! Who else is lacking in loyalty and mind?!"
None stood.
This seemed to calm the Grandmaster, slightly. "Good," he said. His head turned in the direction of the two traitors again. "I should have expected this. It is a shame, actually. The mighty are often rebellious in nature. But…you both must know full well that there is no leaving the Lin Kuei. Not while you breathe."
"We know it," said Sub-Zero. "You will have to kill us. Or at the very least…"
He eased into a defensive posture. Ice began to form around his hands. Smoke began to emit the thick smog he was so well known for, as he cocked his fists at his sides.
"…try to kill us."
At this, the few Lin Kuei who were still seated rose quickly, and stepped back from the two, into the circle that had began to form around them. Weapons were made ready, swords drawn from their sheathes.
Much to everyone's surprise, the Grandmaster chuckled.
"Kill you? Whoever said anything about killing you?" He chuckled again. "No, my foolish little ingrates, no. As I was going to say before you interrupted me, we intend to create two more cybernetic assassins. Now that we know the process works, we can take two of our finest warriors and convert them, with no fear of losing their abilities. And the two have been chosen. You two."
Sub-Zero's teeth were gritted. "As you said…Not while I breathe," he snarled
"The choice was never yours to make."
The Grandmaster turned his back to them, and walked over to the dais. He stopped.
"Hold them."
And with that simple command, pandemonium erupted.
While Smoke dissipated into an ethereal form, dodging the incoming attacks, Sub-Zero made a sweeping gesture with his arms, instantly freezing four incoming attackers into pillars of ice. Turning, he fended off an incoming punch with his forearm, and planted a kick to his attacker's face. He leapt off to one side, smashing an elbow into another's sternum. He spun on his heel, and with a roundhouse kick, caught two more assailants in the face. He sensed an incoming attack, and ducked. A sword flashed overhead, and there was a wet noise and a gurgle over to his left. Someone's throat had just been slashed open.
Four of his attackers decided to take him en masse, moving to flank him from all sides. He smiled, and tried an experiment of his own. Mustering his power, he thought cold, envisioned what he wanted, and leapt up – leaving a perfect clone of himself standing on the ground, in the exact spot he'd been standing in. The second his attackers hit the statue they froze completely, the ice quickly spreading across their bodies like an infection.
Smoke, on the other hand, was having a much easier time of things. His ability to transform any part of his body into clouds of smoke was invaluable when facing numerous opponents. Half of the blows aimed in his direction connected with each other, and more than a few times, he heard bones snap. He extended his left palm, and a fine mist flew into the face of an attacker. The man choked and gagged, falling backwards and bumping into another man, sending them both to the ground. He leapt over and planted kicks to the bases of their skulls, making sure they remained down. He glanced over to his right, and saw the sword coming down.
It cut a clean swath directly through his body, from forehead to knee, before coming out again.
Smoke did not move from the position he was in. The swordsman's eyes widened, and he was about to yell in triumph, when he noticed that there was no blood. Rather, the sword had left a misty trail where it had passed. Smoke waggled a finger, then punched the man in the face before he had the opportunity to even look confused. He crumpled. Smoke chuckled, then transformed into his ethereal form, and proceeded to smother two more men.
Try as they might, the Lin Kuei soldiers seemingly could not take down two of their own finest. Although they were trained in supernatural magicks and techniques, most were still green in their practice, and Smoke and Sub-Zero had seen fit to dispose of the stronger ones first, those who could focus their Fa Jing and could use special skills and elemental powers and the like.
All was going well until the moment when Sub-Zero had required two punches to take a man down. He turned, and dodged back, but not in enough time to avoid the dagger that was headed toward his face.
It carved a path of agony from his cheekbone to his forehead, passing a bare millimeter from his right eye. He fell to the ground, hand covering the wound.
Smoke turned when he heard his ally's involuntary shout of pain. His eyes widened in shock, and he dropped the two men whose heads he'd bashed together, flying over to his friend's side in his smoke form, and reconstructing himself there. He helped his ally up as the few remaining fighters formed a perimeter around them.
"Not good…"
"Any…ow…suggestions?"
"I blind them, you trip them, we escape. We cannot fight with you in this condition. Can you see?
"If it were not for the blood then I could, yes."
"Get ready…"
The twenty or so remaining men began closing in.
"Now!"
Smoke used every available bit of strength he had to expand his choking mist in all directions, expanding outwards from his body. As he did so, Sub-Zero let loose a stream of ice which covered the ground around them. As the first of their attackers dove at them through the mists, they slipped and fell into each other. The two of them used this time to burst through the circle, and through the doors leading back into the corridors of the headquarters. In seconds, they were through the front doors, running with all their might into what had become a vicious thunderstorm.
Back in the audience chamber, the smoke had cleared, and the Grandmaster was screaming again, the open doors taunting him.
"Incompetents! Fools!"
Calming himself down yet again, he turned to the two mechanical assassins who had stood motionless throughout the entire ordeal. Without orders, they would remain so.
"This is my command. Units LK-9T9, LK-4D4, you are to seek out the two traitors, Sub-Zero and Smoke. You will stop at nothing. You will bring them back here, before me. Understood?"
Sektor spoke for the first time, his voice an octave deeper than Cyrax's.
"Confirmed. Preferred target status?"
"Alive if possible…dead if necessary."
The two cyborgs said nothing, but leapt from the dais, knocked over the few stragglers in their path on the way out, and began pursuit of their quarry.