The vermilion, maple leaves of the Shirai Ryu Fire Garden fluttered to the ground like the scattered pages of a novel, each leaf containing stories unknown by any mortal eyes. Scorpion meditated amidst the dance of scarlet, his blank eyes closed, breathing completely even, legs crossed with his hands resting upon his knees, and back straight with strength.
Kronika's defeat brought peace to the realms once more but even with the titaness gone, the Hourglass of Time safely kept under the watchful eyes of Lord Liu Kang and the other gods, the realms still crackled with unease. Outworld teetered under Kitana Kahn's leadership to no fault of her own; no new leadership assumed during such turbulent times can be without stress, doubt, and suspicion. Even the new, joint keepers of time: Lord Liu Kang, Lord Fujin, and even the reformed Elder Goddess, Cetrion, and the freed construct, Geras, drew much suspicion at first. But alas, Lady Cetrion and Geras found new life and a humble truth in the now-mortal Raiden and Lord Fujin's steadfast alliance with humans: there is more virtue in an alliance built upon compassion than there is with one held together by blind servitude to one's maker.
With Kronika gone, their knowledge of the Hourglass' powers precedes anyone else's and is very much so needed; their reformation and goodwill have held steadfast thus far.
But that has done little to quench the unease–one that had worked its way into Scorpion's heart–rumbling through Outworld and Earthrealm. The seeds of doubt germinated there but he had no time to think about them. He had a vow to uphold for his future self, one who gave everything to restore the Shirai Ryu. It felt… odd to return to the Fire Gardens and see warriors walking about, discussing, training, laughing, loving one another like brothers and sisters are supposed to. Elder Scorpion was buried amongst the past Grandmasters of the Shirai Ryu; Scorpion wished to believe that elder Scorpion would be at peace knowing his past himself was attempting to uphold the Shirai Ryu name.
In truth, Scorpion felt nothing more than a foreigner in the very Fire Temples his older self had restored and called home. Being brought into the current timeline, then made wary of Kronika manipulating his anger the same way Shinnok and Quan Chi by a wiser version of himself only to see him be murdered by a disgusting, treacherous Kytinn moments later tore Scorpion's heart apart.
He may be Scorpion but he is not Hanzo Hasashi.
He was not the Hanzo Grandmaster Kuai Liang grew to respect. He was not the Hanzo Takeda Takahashi saw as a father figure. He was not the Hanzo that restored the Shirai Ryu. He was just Scorpion, some spectre who was brought back by Quan Chi, only rescued by sheer chance when he was manipulated by Kronika the same way his maker did to him when he was first resurrected. Hanzo Hasashi saved him.
And now, Hanzo Hasashi was dead.
Only Scorpion, a young, grief-filled spectre, utterly unsure of his place in the world despite all his promises to Hanzo Hasashi remained.
A bead of sweat rolled down Scorpion's face. A draft picked up and a pair of foreign footsteps approached. The spectre's eyes snapped open, white, burning gaze fixating onto the intruder. The breeze prickled at Scorpion's skin as he watched the figure approach
"What will become of you now, Hanzo?" a tall, dark-skinned man stood at full mast. He was poised but at ease, the blue chips of glowing aquamarine that made up his eyes no longer holding the burden Kronika had once imposed upon him,
The Grandmaster of the Shirai Ryu, known for his blinding speed and blistering flames across countless realms scoffed at Geras' words, his lips curling back in a disgusted snarl. Empty. That's all the construct's words are, all they ever will be. Demi-gods, gods, elder-gods, a construct built by an elder-god… Why does his fate matter to them? It shouldn't matter. If they can turn a blind eye to and do nothing about all the injustices that have befallen his clan, his lover, his son, they have no right to utter words that hint at an interest in his future.
"My fate is none of your concern. Leave the Fire Gardens. You are not welcomed here, Geras." Scorpion would ask how Geras knew about the garden's secretive location but dismissed the thought; a construct that has lived and seen thousands of lifetimes would surely know somehow.
Geras knew of Scorpion's fiery tongue but it seemed to burn red-hot today.
"I sense this is not going to be cordial." Geras shifted slightly, moving closer to Scorpion who had already risen to his feet by now, flanged kunai in one hand, the length of chain attached to it in the other. "Please, Grandmaster, I do not come with malicious intent… I only wish to speak."
Scorpion arched a brow at Geras' words. His hands did not lower nor did he attack though the air around him did begin to warp from the heat. "Speak swiftly, construct."
"The keepers of time request your aid for a mission, Grandmaster Hasashi."
Scorpion's eyes narrowed as his spine stiffened at the sounds of his supposed name.
"I have no interest in aiding you." The Grandmaster's lips pulled into a tight, mutinous line. "You served Kronika, you would've seen her vision through if it were not for the champions of Outworld and Earthrealm banding together to topple her. You may be reformed, but I see no reason to aid you. Lord Liu Kang, Lord Fujin, and Cetrion can help you. I am not the one to ask for favours. I have a clan to foster."
"I understand your reservation, Master Hasa-"
"Scorpion."
"I understand your reservations… Scorpion. But this is an important matter."
All the space between Scorpion's upper and lower teeth snapped closed. "Damn your important matter."
The air was uncomfortable against Geras' skin now, hot and stinging. "This matter concerns you, Scorpion. An echo sounded by the sins of your past grows stronger."
"What are you saying?"
"The wraith Bi-Han, who many have assumed dead, grows ever stronger… The influence of his shadows increases. We need to know why and how. You must help us." Geras' words rang across the Fire Gardens courtyard, arcing through Scorpion, sinking so deeply the Grandmaster could swear the timekeeper's statement bore into his marrow.
"Bi-Han… lives? I thought he had perished after Kronika's defeat." Scorpion's breath whistled out of his lungs, sharp, loud, and hot. The Shirai Ryu chastised himself for his naive thoughts; Quan Chi's creations do not die easily.
A low grumble escaped Scorpion. He turned his back and proceeded to walk away but halted after the first, harsh steps. "And you've invaded the Shirai Ryu Fire Gardens to tell me this, why?"
Geras was the one to arch his brow. "You and I both know why, Grandmaster. I've watched hundreds of timelines unfold. In all these timelines Bi-Han is a shadow from your past, something you are fated to cross and clash with. No one, not even Kuai Liang, knows what he is capable of, for your fate and Bi-Han's are crossed throughout all timelines. Your suffering, your rebirth, your redemption, your restoration and protection of the new Shirai Ryu… Boys like Takeda Takahashi thank you for your newfound kindness, Scorpion. Now, a shadow from your past arises… Tell me, Grandmaster, you do not intend to turn a blind eye and allow treachery to persist."
Scorpion's lip curled back behind his mask, his head hung forwards slightly as he glared at Geras, his white eyes staring daggers through him. "Spew your false pieties elsewhere. My death at Bi-Han's hands was due to my incompetence and I curse it every day… But you gods watched these timelines play out yet you do nothing as my clan, Harumi, and Satoshi, all of them who are innocent, are slaughtered by Quan Chi. The gods did nothing as Quanchi misdirected my rage, showing me Bi-Han as my clan's killer, allowing him the chance to gain another damned, powerful wraith, while he was the vilest one. Do not pretend to care for my fate when you gods nearly sealed me to one of sin and servitude once already by allowing evil to reap those closest to me. Each Shirai Ryu lost that day were noble, kind souls, yet the gods allowed them to be slaughtered as payment for Bi-Han's success in retrieving that artifact Quan Chi desired."
Geras' blue gaze fixed on Scorpion, "I sympathize with your loss," the construct's eyes softened somewhat. "But the matter is urgent. You have traversed the Netherrealms many times in the past; you are familiar with it. You have the ability to purge Bi-Han's shadows with your hellfire so you can stop him from further spreading his influence and corruption."
Scorpion swallowed, "I'll do it." His words were raw.
Geras exhaled, relief flooding his features in a way the Grandmaster did not think possible for a construct. "Thank you, Grandmaster. The timekeepers thank you for your aid but you too will also require aid from another to complete this harrowing mission."
"I will work alone. I always work the best alone." Jagged words pierced the air like shrapnel.
Geras shook his head. "Not this time," the construct's voice rumbled with what sounded like slight amusement, though Scorpion could not be sure. "You require an ally who would be able to aid you in tracking down Bi-Han. As skilled of an assassin and pyromancer you are, you and I both know you could use help tracking down an elusive figure like Bi-Han."
A grunt escaped Scorpion; he begrudgingly and wordlessly agreed. "Name the ally."
"Lord Fujin has sought out the sanguinaire Skarlet already." Geras' words forced the air from Scorpion's lungs. The Grandmaster's hooded head tilted back as a laugh escaped him, hearty and low but it was clear his tone was dangerous as he halted his amusement to speak.
"I pray that you are joking, Geras. I want nothing to do with that loathsome leech; I thought Kitana Kahn had executed her once they had captured her after Kronika's defeat." The Grandmaster briskly tucked his arms behind his back, standing at attention, awaiting Geras' answer.
"I do not joke about such important matters, Grandmaster."
"And I do not negotiate about who I will and will not ally with. My Shirai Ryu honour forbids me to stoop so low as to side with Shao Kahn's lapdog." Scorpion scowled, "I will find someone el-"
"I'm afraid this is not up for negotiation, Scorpion." Geras' tone hardened like a sword being tempered. "I understand your reservations, but no one is a better tracker than the blood assassin herself. This mission is dire." Geras extends a closed fist towards Scorpion, causing the sanguinaire to jump back, fists raised and flaming.
"Do not test my patience and tempt me to kombat, Geras."
The construct opened his fist, showing that he had no ill-intent. "This is a vial of Bi-Han's blood. Once you meet up with the blood assassin, hand this to her and she will be able to track the wraith. Lord Fujin has alerted Kharon that the two of you require aid to cross the Sea of Blood where the portal to the Netherrealm is loc-"
Scorpion let out a brusque snort, "You gods prepared as if the two of us were sure to accept."
"I will leave you to prepare, Grandmaster."
The canopy overhead blocked out most of the sunlight, offering passersby a reprieve from the scorching gaze of the overseer above. Scorpion has never minded the heat but his trek through the borders of the Kuatan Jungle had something else prickling at his skin. He ran a rough hand against his forearm, grumbling a little; the mere thought of interacting with that leech was bothering him. Scorpion wondered if the bloodthirsty woman would curl those scarlet lips of hers into a smile if she knew how much the very idea of her shook his core. Knowing that she would find much amusement in this fact made Scorpion feel very foolish indeed.
"Where is the leech…?" he muttered to himself, grinding out each word under his breath as his patience wore dangerously thin.
Swatting a few vines out of his face, Scorpion trekked on in the direction Geras had pointed him in once the timekeeper teleported him to Outworld. The Grandmaster felt a tightness in his chest from when the possibility of this being some dark ploy to trap him kicked in; he rested his hand on his katana and gripped his fist tighter, flames threatening to make an appearance at a moment's notice.
The sound of rushing water filled Scorpion's ears as he stepped out into a small clearing. Water lapped at the ground, wetting the soil into mud, filling the air with a distinctive, earthy yet crisp and fresh scent. The Grandmaster looked down, eyes scanning the soft ground, looking for a sign-whether that be a scarlet strand of hair or a faint footprint-of the elusive blood assassin.
He saw nothing even as he looked up and down the bank. "This is a waste of time." Scorpion asserted as his un-Hanzo-like frustration erupted in a wrathful display.
"Show yourself!"
Vines were burned, bark was scorched, the air sizzled with heat, crackling with golden sparks. Scorpion stood in the epicentre of the destruction, chest heaving, eyes flickering with an eerie light.
"Grandmaster Hasashi… You're an unexpected sight…" Lies spilled from a pair of crimson lips as easily as they drew breath. The words were as smooth as silk and tinged with that ambiguous accent that was infinitely pleasant and charming to those unacquainted with who it belonged to. For those who knew better, that voice alone could pierce their hearts with fear and invade their psyche with visions of slaughter.
Scorpion watched as the sanguinaire rose out of the water, her naked skin beading with wetness. The tresses of her hair lay against her back and chest in scarlet cascades. Scorpion stared; Skarlet's arms rested at her sides for a moment before they lifted–not for a weapon or to attack–but to wipe at the moisture upon her face.
"Get dressed." Scorpion spat bluntly, finding little reason to converse with her.
"Why the rush, Grandmaster? How unlike a man as yourself to be so on edge…" Skarlet lingered in the water, a bemused expression flashing across her lips before disappearing as quickly as it appeared.
Scorpion grit his teeth. Damn the woman and her words; she certainly picked up on everything quickly and had a special way of working under other people's skin. Perhaps it was just his skin, but the idea of this leech only bothering him so easily felt much too unbecoming for him to consider.
"I said get dressed. We are leaving at once and crossing the Sea of Blo-"
"Upon the ferryman Kharon's boat. Yes, I know Grandmaster Hasashi, Lord Fujin has informed me of the details. She has also forewarned me about your… volatile nature. I can certainly see and feel that you hold not so much as a shred of care for me. However, you will not go so far as to kill me… because I know I am essential to your success." The assassin arched a brow when she saw that Scorpion had not budged an inch. "Do you intend to watch me dress? How unlike you, Grandmaster. I must say… I do not mind those alabaster eyes of yours on me. You certainly intrigue me." Skarlet angled her face down a little, staring up slightly and between her lashes at the only figure around. "So much blood spilled, Scorpion…"
Scorpion fought the urge to retch and said nothing to the particularly lascivious tones mixed into her comments. He turned his back.
"To avenge my family and clan… Now dress. Quickly." He commanded once more, tone as firm as steel and as scathing as hellfire. "I will crush your skull and reduce your worthless existence to ash if you even try to attempt anything."
"You misunderstand, I'm impressed." Skarlet chuckled with genuine amusement. "But I must admit, your animosity… wounds me." Skarlet managed her most heartbroken voice, even daring to pout a little in an attempt to get the Grandmaster to turn, even if it was just for a fleeting moment. Scorpion's disinterest proved powerful and her attempt was for naught as the Grandmaster kept his stiff, martial bearing.
The blood assassin's staged expression dropped from her face as she retrieved her garments from the neat pile they were folded in and dressed. Scorpion heard the rustle of fabric, the tinkering of belt buckles, and the occasional hum which indicated Skarlet's nonchalance with the whole situation.
"I'm dressed like you wanted, Grandmaster Hasashi." Skarlet lips began to quirk up as she waited for the Shirai Ryu warrior to turn and address her directly.
But he did no such thing.
"It's Scorpion." Abrasive words shot out to correct her. "Move."
Skarlet's budding smirk wilted. Her carnelian gaze narrowed with dissatisfaction as an indigent huff left her. She cast her eyes out towards the expanse of the lake she had been indulging in and crossed her arms against her chest. The water didn't stretch on for very long; the other side was visible but the rich, nearly indigo blue hue of the water made the blood assassin wonder how deep the waters went. Ever since she could remember, Skarlet knew she was always a curious soul gifted with the ability to imagine vivid scenes; it wasn't hard to imagine herself sinking into the water once more and drifting down deep into the dark abyss' grasp.
Mayhaps such a consummation was to be wished; there was so little–perhaps nothing at all–left in this world for her.
"I said move." Scorpion grasped Skarlet's arm, taking her off-guard. He tugged her once, hard, and it was the kindest anyone in recent memory has treated her.
A chuckle of mirth escaped Skarlet at this thought and the sound swiftly bubbled into laughter that bordered on being hysterical. Scorpion wrenched his fingers away with such urgency it was as if her flesh had sprouted needles or she had begun to rot right under his palm.
The Grandmaster's kunai was raised at once, flames heating its blade to a golden glow.
Skarlet continued to laugh before suddenly breaking off to speak. "You are greatly amusing, Grandmaster."
"What did Lord Fujin offer? Speak now if you do not wish to suffer." Scorpion spat, interrogating her, digging for an incentive that must be there. Ever since Scorpion was a child, he had always been quiet and observative, uninterested in conversation until he knew precisely how the opposition was like. It was no different now. In fact, facing the red-haired woman's cryptic words only further confirmed his beliefs: no one is to be fully trusted.
"Offer? He offered nothing. Nothing at all." Skarlet declared in a tone that hinted at neither deception nor honesty.
"I find that hard to believe."
"Why's that, Grandmaster?" Skarlet took a step back, only for her arm to be seized again. This time, Scorpion's grip was tighter than before, his palm almost painfully hot.
"You are unworthy of trust… and too dangerous to let live." Scorpion's grip began to sting now, the heat licking at her skin, leaving a sharp, prickiling sensation in her flesh.
Skarlet was the one jerking away now but Scorpion thwarted her attempts by hardening his grip.
"You attempt to wound me again but I speak only the truth. There is nothing left in the world for me now that Shao Kahn is dead. I bear no ulterior motives…" Skarlet ground out dryly, her mask of mirth and the coquettish smirk she bore completely eluded her now.
"If you move as you are commanded then you won't have to suffer anymore." Scorpion bit back, ignoring the latter half of Skarlet's statement which to him, sounded like a pitiful attempt at sympathy.
Acid words were hurled in Skarlet's direction but they hardly felt like anything at all; she had long since grown calloused to words, not allowing them–no matter how sharp–to pierce her heart. She would not let her mind grow feeble like so many do. To capitulate due to words alone was the action of a fool; the only thing that matters in so far as proving things in life is power. That was how she always had it: nobody even bothered to give her a passing glance until she painted floors crimson with blood, showing them just how much power she stored within her unassuming body.
All that power was given to her by Shao Kahn. His vision, his power, his conquest gave her a purpose in life. Every drop of blood spilled in his name was sweet. Now, everything, even the blood she craved so dearly tasted of bland nothingness.
"Let go of me and I will move."
"You come on my terms. I do not trust you nor believe that you harbour no ulterior motive. Now move."
"Lord Fujin truly did offer me nothing in return for this mission. The only thing here for me is this mission but that alone is enough… because it gave me a shred of what I yearn for." Skarlet's voice had lowered to a hoarse whisper, rough and almost pained.
"And what might that be?" Scorpion allowed his curiosity to take control, if only for a moment.
"An objective to march towards. A reason to fight. A purpose to draw breath for… It's the very thing I lost when Shao Kahn was murdered. You Earthrealmers and traitors took his life, you all took everything I held dear away from me." Skarlet's face was a cold mask devoid of all emotion. Her voice did not raise, yet somehow, it roared and drowned out all the surrounding sounds.
"And how many lives did your master steal in his bloody conquest? How many more lives were you willing to ruin for him because he sided with Kronika? You tear apart families, murder mothers and sons, all for the bloody, arrogant ambition of another." If one had thought Scorpion's grip was as tight as it could've been already, he quickly proved such thoughts faulty. "You were a tool to him. A damned leech who is good for nothing but ruining the lives of others. Your power is a plague, a curse that damned you, and you're simply too morally bankrupt to realize any of this."
Skarlet's eyes were like chips of bloodstained ice as they fixated on Scorpion.
Then the Grandmaster was launched into the air, his back crashing against the nearest tree with enough force to splinter the rough bark. Scorpion hissed out curses, spine aching from the impact as he rolled to the side, only to be picked back up by invisible hands once more. Taking but a single moment to analyze the situation, Scorpion noticed the blood staining his body; Skarlet had attacked him with her magic, and now, was taking the liberty to push her offence once more.
The Grandmaster, not one to lie around and see just how far the sanguinaire was willing to go, expelled a pulse of hellfire from his entire body, evaporating the blood upon himself instantly. He dropped back to the ground, crouching down low into his stance instantly. He stared daggers at Skarlet while she only gazed back with an expression so devoid of aggression it seemed as if he didn't even exist.
Blood bubbled at Skarlet's fingertips, materializing at her will, and continued to increase in quantity. More and more and more, until it finally stopped. Crimson spears–at least half a dozen–rose into the air behind Skarlet, cruel tips pointed at Scorpion, tracking his every move.
"How does my power damn me, Scorpion?" she angled her head as if she was waiting for an answer but she allowed no time for him to utter anything. "It liberated me!"
The spears shot forth with Skarlet charging him down at the forefront, dagger in hand. She rushed in with merciless aggression, eyes wide and wild with unrestrained rage. It was a rage that Scorpion was kindred with.
The assassin leaped into the air, her blood spears backing her as she dove down, stabbing at Scorpion. Scornful, violent, unhinged, but directed at no one in particular, not even the man she was attacking.
Scorpion stood his ground, standing strong, unflinching, even as the tips of the spears touched his chest. They would pierce fabric, skin, and flesh soon but they never got the chance.
He was no novice.
Like martial prowess personified, the Grandmaster's form flashed brightly for a moment, his flesh turning into hellfire, his bones glowing like molten gold. Scorpion, like a summer storm coming and going, disappeared from Skarlet's line of sight but she wasn't kept wondering long where the Grandmaster had gone as she felt a chain being pulled painfully taut against her neck.
Skarlet let out a malcontented snarl that swiftly died, turning into a pitiful gasp for air as Scorpion kept his hold on her. She squirmed, writhing like a trapped animal.
"Amateur," Skarlet could hear the Grandmaster chastising her but his voice was far away now. Black specks danced before her eyes, consciousness eluding her. Perhaps this is where she dies, not for some grand plan, great vision of conquest, but because of a slip up on her part. Funnily enough, Skarlet couldn't care less.
"You've grown sloppy. Incompetence will be your undoing… At least now, I know you pose no threat to me if you would fall to such a simple trick."
Scorpion released Skarlet, tossing her to the ground worthlessly. The assassin stayed on her knees for a moment, dragging in deep, ragged breaths into the burning cavities of her lungs. Her fingers curled up against the ground, gripping at it for an anchor to root herself within reality.
No rage remained. Only numbness, that same numbness that was forever lapping against her.
"Now get up. Attempt to attack me again and you will pay with your life." Scorpion grabbed the back of her collar, nearly hoisting her to her feet in one go. "And take this." Scorpion tossed the vial of blood Geras gave him earlier. "You will use it to find the wraith once we arrive in the Netherrealm."
Skarlet scrambled to find her balance and for a moment, considered attacking again but decided against it. Despite the numbness that filled her every cell, this encounter sparked her interest. Whether she dies or not on this mission does not matter. All of it was meaningless now and the thought of spending her possible, last moments walking alongside someone intriguing gave Skarlet a minutiae of solace and satisfaction.
Thank you for reading the first chapter of "Echoes Of A Dream"! I hope you enjoyed. There aren't enough MK fanfics, so I thought I'd my interpretation on an interesting ship (I really like Skarlet and Scorpion's possible dynamic and parallels).