Disclaimer: Mortal Kombat doesn't belong to me. I'm sure all MK fans out there are supremely relieved by that.
LiuSubzeroSonyaJaxNightwolfStrykerKitana
Sitting in a chair, fingers steepled, the Thunder God Raiden wondered at his luck and decided Bishamonten, war god of the Seven Gods of Fortune, liked making his life difficult to get a kick out of his squirming.
With a sigh Raiden exited the private room at the Temple of Light, though not before donning beggar's robes. While most of the monks recognized him from sight and sound there were still some he could fool into thinking he was nothing more than dirt at their feet.
And he needed that now. Discretion. Anonymity. The Chosen One couldn't just respect him because he was a god, but respect him as another person.
Raiden let out his breath through his nose in a disgruntled huff. The Elders had tried to intervene and choose his fighters on the premise that, as Earth Realm had lost the last nine Kombats, Raiden was failing. So now Raiden was in a desperate search for Chosen Ones in spite of the fact that the Kombat wasn't for another twenty-three years. He needed to bring his case to the Elders now. He needed to show that, while the mortals had lost, it was not because they were weak.
Raiden only hoped this generation was not only the best, but good enough to defeat Shang Tsung and, by extension, Shao Kahn.
Children's laughter brought Raiden up short. Several children ran in wild tangents in a courtyard, chasing one child who held a bright yellow ball in his hands.
Recognizing the bearer as Kung Lao, a direct descendant of the Great Kung Lao, Raiden bit his lip in dismay. While the child's aura was brilliant, it wasn't the distinguished aura of a Chosen or, preferably, the Chosen One. The god didn't know how a descendant of such a noble line could be surpassed, but Kung Lao was not the Chosen One of this generation.
"Chan! Mother said to come home now!"
Raiden averted his eyes to the speaker. A nine year old boy stood in the courtyard with an impressive no-nonsense scowl on his face. His black hair was shaggy and black eyes dark with responsibility, dressed in the simple clothes of a boy from a modest family.
While his appearance was poor and bedraggled, the boy's aura was not. A tornado of power, determination, and humanity roared, diminishing Kung Lao's own and all the other boys in the courtyard.
One boy stopped his frantic chasing, stomping his feet in frustration. "Liiiuuu, I'm playing!"
"Supper is on the table, Chan. If you want to eat, then come home now."
The brother did not share the strong spirit Liu did, Raiden was saddened to see. In fact, Chan seemed to have a very short lifespan.
No, if Raiden wanted the best fighters Earth Realm had to offer, Liu was it. Liu was the Chosen One and, if his aura was anything to go by, the best. The best since Kung Lao of five hundred years ago.
Raiden shied away from that memory. The memory of Kung Lao's body mangled and defiled by that damned Goro still hurt terribly.
He approached Liu, blanking his emotions. Chan and Kung Lao had both converged on the elder boy, but they turned at his arrival. Chan seemed unaware of his godhood, but Kung Lao gazed up sharply at him, respect shining in his far-softer black eyes.
Liu, on the other hand, stared at him with suspicion while surreptitiously shielding his brother. "What do you want?"
Inwardly Raiden sighed despairingly. Why couldn't his last hope have been humble, respectful, considerate? Instead Liu had the confrontational, cynical attitude of a world-weary man, one who wouldn't place his trust in a god any more than he would in an emperor of China.
Rather than smiting the child as would befit a deity of his position, Raiden cocked his head. "To meet a responsible young man like yourself."
Liu's brows narrowed. Chan, oblivious, pouted in envy unique to younger siblings. "You always get to meet the cool people, Liu."
Why couldn't the younger brother be Chosen? I wouldn't mind. Not in the least.
But Fate and Destiny had chosen the hot-blooded youngster. Raiden wasn't one to argue with the reigning forces—much. He told Liu, "Do you always look after your younger brother?"
Jutting his chin out, Liu said, "It's none of your business."
"Liu," Kung Lao whispered urgently, apparently regarding Liu's sole year elder as immaterial, "speak gentler. The monks would be horrified if they heard you speak so, even to the lowest of beggars. Not everyone is as they seem."
Liu sent the boy a scalding look. "The monks aren't the boss of me, or anyone. I'm my own man, not someone who has to ask them what is right and wrong. Anyone who needs to be told is someone who has far more pressing moral problems."
Well. Maybe not a wholly lost cause. I think I'm just reacting negatively because the Elders left a bad taste in my mouth. "Well spoken, Liu," Raiden smiled sincerely now, resting a hand on his and Kung Lao's shoulders. With that act he sent a burst of power through, marking the former as the Chosen One and the latter as Chosen. Both boys pulled away, Kung Lao gazing up with wide eyes while Liu glared.
Or maybe I have a right to be concerned that the fate of this world lays in the hands of this child.
"I hope to see you both in the near future," Raiden said cryptically, turning away. "The world needs people like you."
The boys watched as he disappeared into the catacombs of the Temple. Liu thought that would be the last he saw of the beggar, but when he returned home a red headband was tied around his bedpost. Written in bold, black Chinese lettering was, "You will overcome Destiny herself to be great." At the end was a black Chinese dragon entrapped by a black, cracked circle.
Liu stared, uncomprehending. The boy answered his mother's call obediently, tucking the headband into his pocket.
I've always had the idea that Liu was a rebellious child, particularly since the first movie depicted Liu as rather cynical toward Raiden at first. Just letting you all know why I made him so skeptical.