Author's Note: Happy New Years, everyone! I hope you all had a peaceful and happy holiday season this year. Last month, I found myself being harassed by someone on here that I eventually blocked, which is something I rarely do. I don't know if you've interacted with this dude, but if you find someone named damientruman in your inbox, use caution because not only is he convinced of his own superiority to all of you, my readers, he's also a typo-Nazi. You can head over to my tumblr and scroll back about a month if you'd like to see the screenshots I took of that exchange, but all I can say is be wary of him. He clearly doesn't like it when women refuse to submit to his "expertise" as he sees it. And then he took to every one of my stories to leave a message in my reviews as a guest, trying to play the victim. Naturally, I deleted those. After my ex-husband, I have zero patience for gaslighting narcissists trying to play the victim. So yeah, avoid that dude because he's cray-cray.
That does lead me to tell you all this, though, especially you budding writers out there. As you write and publish your work, you're going to encounter lots of different types of people, and they're going to have all sorts of advice for you. And that's fine. Sometimes the advice is good. Usually it's bad, though. My advice to you would be to find someone whose opinions you trust and listen to them above all others. Now, that said, just because someone said they think you need to change something doesn't mean you should. Only you know what you're trying to achieve with your story, and if you believe it needs to be a certain way, then you stick to your guns and don't let anyone browbeat you into changing things up. And that's true even if you trust the person making the suggestion. I have a lot of people whose opinions I trust on here, but there have been times when they think I should've gone a certain way even though I knew that wasn't the right way, so I've respectfully disagreed with them and did what I wanted to do. But I have a lot of experience writing, and with it, I have the confidence to believe in myself when I know I'm right. You, my young, green friends, need to learn to have that same confidence. That's how you learn and grow as writers. Don't ever let anyone bully you into writing something you don't feel good about. If they want that shit so bad, then let them write their own freaking story.
Okay, end of rant. But anyway, I've been working on this chapter and it became so long that I decided I would just break it into two. Hopefully that second one won't take as long as this one to write. I'm on vacation from work this week, so I'm hopeful I'll be a lot more productive at home. I hope you enjoy it!
After stumbling through the portal with Raiden and the others, Fujin immediately dropped onto his knees beside Kailyn and wrapped his arms around her, panting and sweating and sobbing. Morgan's absence was like the sky, spreading over everything. No one had ever told him how much grief felt like fear. He was not afraid - not now, not after enduring his very worst nightmare and surviving - but it felt like that. There was the same fluttering of the stomach, the same uncontrollable trembling, the same breathlessness, the same screaming heart. He found that he couldn't stop swallowing the sickly sweet bile that promised vomit. He couldn't stop hearing Raiden's grim warning to him years ago: Someday, you will discover the pain of losing a child. How would he survive this missing, which had already gotten a foothold in his heart? How did the mortals do it? People died all the time. Every day. Every hour. There were families all over the world staring at beds that were no longer slept in, shoes that were no longer worn. Families that no longer had to buy a particular cereal, a kind of shampoo. There were people everywhere standing in line at the movies, buying curtains, walking dogs, while inside, their hearts were ripping to shreds. For years. For their whole lives. He didn't believe that time could possibly heal those wounds, nor did he want it to.
And yet, what grieved him the most was the knowledge that he'd failed Morgan, his beautiful child, his only child. He thought of the terror she must've felt as Shinnok killed her. He tried very hard to tell himself that at least it was blessedly quick, as if that could somehow confine the horror.
It was too much to take.
Still sobbing like a child, Fujin crumbled away from Kailyn as his body began to thrum with violence. He staggered to his feet as a breeze began to grow around him of its own volition, and then that breeze became a wind that blew through the hangar, threatening to grow even more. He stumbled around, holding his head, just weeping, just letting the wind shove him where it willed. Once, he looked up and saw Raiden running for him, yelling at him to stay calm. Croaking through his anguished tears, he threw up his hand and unintentionally blasted his own brother to keep him away, shrieking, "Stay away from me!" His brother slid on his back through a throng of startled onlookers with a shocked cry.
Fujin didn't need the Thunder God's nice ideas or colorful platitudes or disingenuous hugs. What he needed was a Champion who so perfectly transcended the agony and the grief that was attacking him that his presence alone could obliterate all of the pain inside him. But it was a relentless, merciless enemy, and it doubled him over in stitches. It felt like he'd been thrown down a chute. He was careening forward, trying not to get too banged up, utterly out of control of his descent, and somewhere in the dark, there was a hole waiting for him to fall through. The warriors around him looked at him in fear like he was a lunatic, and he probably lost most of their respect, but he didn't care. He just cared about Morgan.
"Fujin, that's enough!" Tomas now yelled at him.
The Wind God furiously turned around and sent him flying too.
The cyber-ninja landed hard on his back, but it didn't deter him. He quickly scrambled to his feet and bravely faced him. "You are not the only one who lost her!" he shouted. "She was my daughter too."
In response, Fujin blasted him again with wind and knocked him onto his back several feet. Then he stomped to the Enenra as the people around them watched in awe, wondering if they should intervene. Let them. He would destroy them all if he had to.
"You were nothing to her!" he snarled at Tomas. "I was her father."
"Family is more than just blood, which you've acknowledged more than once," he retorted as he got to his feet, dabbling the blood away from his lip. "You may have fathered her, but I raised her. While you were off fulfilling your duties, I was the one rescuing her from the monsters in her closet, I was the one reading stories to her at night, I was the one convincing her to eat her broccoli, I was the one she joked around with or cried to when she was upset." He fearlessly stood his ground as the other got in his face. Tears streamed down his filthy cheeks. "You lost her, but I did too."
"It's not the same, you daft insect," he growled. "She was my flesh and blood. How could you possibly know-"
"Because I threw my own daughter off a cliff!" he shrieked at him.
That proved to be the thing to snap Fujin back to his senses, the proverbial slap in the face. The anger immediately began to recede and the winds began to die down. "But...that wasn't your fault," he protested softly. "You didn't have a choice."
"You think that makes it any better?" he challenged. "Ava's still dead and I still have to live with that." When Fujin didn't say anything to that, he stepped forward and cautiously rested his hands on the Wind God's arms. "You know who also lost Morgan? Kailyn." He nodded at his wife. "Look at her," he commanded, and so Fujin did. She was still sobbing hysterically with her knees drawn to her chest and her fists clutching handfuls of hair. "As terrible as we feel, how must she feel right now? For many months, Morgan was literally a part of her. Her body carried and nourished and grew her body. And then she gave birth to her. Raised her into the good young woman we all loved. Kailyn's world is shattered right now. She needs to see our combined strength, and feel us lift her up, not see you losing control like a lunatic and destroying half the world in a rampage." He shook his head and sighed. "Fujin, I know it is not politically correct for me to say this, but man up. For Kailyn's sake if not your own."
The Wind God swallowed hard and nodded, breathing in deeply to still his own hysterics. He cleared his throat and then met the cyber-ninja's unnaturally blue eyes. "Tomas, normally I think you're an immature fool," he breathed. "But sometimes, you're much smarter and wiser than you look."
"Thank you, Fujin," he bitterly said, "that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
"Well, even a blind squirrel manages to find a nut every now and then," he managed to joke before the Enenra released his arms and he looked at Kailyn.
Fujin made a beeline back to her again, this time knelt before her, stroking her hair. Without warning, she threw her arms around him and squeezed him as tightly as she could like she was hanging on for dear life, burying her face in the crook of his neck, sobbing. He winced and wrapped his arms around her too, holding her close as his own tears fell onto her blond curls. Tomas joined them, pressing his head into the back of hers, rubbing her shoulders. Together, the three of them mourned the loss of their daughter together.
And Fujin found himself trying to reassure Kailyn. "It's going to be okay," he said. "It's going to be okay."
But he wasn't really sure he believed that.
Not far from them, Kuai Liang and Olivia still clutched one another, but at last the Grandmaster released her and scanned her up and down. "You're hurt," he tenderly said as he cupped her cheek. Livy couldn't pinpoint exactly why the gentleness of his words prompted a new wave of crying, but she mentally admonished herself for it. She was rapidly turning into a stick of beef jerky.
"I'll live," she croaked as she collapsed against him once more, sniffling, crying softer now. She wiped the snot from her nose with the back of her good hand.
Her father, though, was not satisfied with that and looked over his shoulder at Jiayi, who was kneeling nearby, his expression distant, his arms hanging limply on either side of his body. "Take Tundra to get checked out by the medics."
The Crown Prince dazedly looked at him, nodded, and said, "Yes, Grandmaster. And then I will help treat the wounded as well."
"But where are you going?" Livy demanded to know as her father got to his feet and pulled her up too. Her voice was shrill like an ice pick.
"I have to see your mother," he told her.
Olivia winced at that and looked at her feet. "Sammie said she's dying," she mumbled.
"I know, that's why I have to go find her," he nodded somberly. "Look after your siblings until I get back. Especially Tommy."
"What's wrong with Tommy?" she demanded to know.
Her father sighed. "His spine is broken. Fujin didn't have a chance to finish healing him before…" He trailed off but Livy knew what he meant. Before Shinnok came. The news that her insufferable cuss of a brother was wounded so badly brought a new wave of tears to her eyes, and wrenching her face into an ugly expression, she began to cry again.
"Stay down," he sadly told her, his own eyes glazing over with fresh tears. Just as Bi-han said it to him when they were children, he told his own children that when they were on the verge of giving up. She didn't answer him, merely continued to cry and drown in self-pity, so her father gently curled his finger under her chin and made her look at him. "Livy?" he pressed.
Hastily, she wiped her eyes and nodded. "Stay down," she repeated.
"Good girl," he replied before he cupped her cheeks in both hands and then kissed her forehead. "I'll be back soon. Hopefully with good news. God knows we need some right now."
Tears continued to trickle from her eyes as she watched him go. Jiayi hobbled towards her, clearly as sore as she felt. "Come, Olivia," he told her. "Let us do as your father said."
It was as equally chaotic in the hospital wing of the base as it had been in the hangar, perhaps more so as it was rapidly filling up with the wounded. The worst were hurried straight into the rooms while the patients with more minor injuries laid on stretchers in the halls, some even sharing. Doctors, nurses, and CNAs ran to and fro, overwhelmed by the sudden influx of casualties. Kuai Liang pushed his way through the crowded hallways, looking for his wife, but saw no sign of her. No one could tell him where she was either. With each passing second that she was missing, his anxiety steadily climbed until he found himself once more on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
"Anya!" he called, hoping to hear her answer. "Anya!" He peeked in rooms and glanced at every patient he saw. Just droves and droves of battle survivors.
He couldn't have lost her too. He'd commit hara kiri right now if he had. Losing Bi-han, Miyuki, and Morgan in the span of fifteen minutes already felt insurmountable, but he knew that if his soulmate was gone too, his spirit would be completely shattered and unfixable, especially since it was his fault she was in this state to begin with.
In sheer frustration, he found the nurse's station and looked at the sprawling information board that listed all the patient names and his eyes flew over them. At last he found it: Annalise Sullivan, ICU, Room 148, no special precautions. Kuai Liang - who knew the hospital wing very well from his stint there years ago after Shao Kahn's failed invasion - instantly headed towards Anya's room, speed-walking at first but soon graduating to a full sprint. But when he found the correct one and turned the corner, he was met by an empty bed neatly made and no indication that a patient was even here. All the oxygen hoses and IV pumps and other life support machines that he expected to see her attached to were gone. White-gold sunlight filtered through the drawn blinds and shined almost directly onto the freshly fluffed pillow.
His heart fell. Where was she? That nurse's board put her in room 148. He double-checked the room number, then double-checked again. 148. Yes, this was the right room...unless something had happened to her but the nurses hadn't had a chance to update the board because of the sudden influx of wounded warriors. He was...he was too late! Kuai Liang considered no other possibility; the Fates weren't that kind to him.
Immediately, he punched the wall and shattered the plaster before he wilted in the doorway and wept into his hands like a child.
And then the bathroom door inside the room softly squeaked open and a voice said, "Kuai Liang?"
The Grandmaster looked up and saw Anya standing in the bathroom doorway, dressed in crisp, clean scrubs and clutching a damp towel. A white skull cap, also damp, covered her newly bald head. He didn't even take a second to think about the unexpected absence of his wife's hair. She had only been in the shower! A warm wave of relief washed over him at the sight of her, prompting him to release a shuddering sigh, but tears continued streaking down his face as he straightened. Gingerly, he stepped towards her with outstretched arms as if she was a yurei sent to torture him.
"Honey?" she asked in surprise as she dropped her towel and stretched and stretched her arms towards him. "What's wrong?"
"Are you even real?" he mumbled. He was tired. So tired. He thought of Bi-han and Miyuki and Morgan - too much of his family lost in a single hour. But somehow, Anya had been spared, his sweet Anya, and at the thought he sobbed even harder.
"Kuai Liang, you're scaring me," she uneasily replied. "I woke up about an hour ago and you weren't here and they said you hadn't been here at all, and now all hell is breaking loose out there, and what on earth is going on-"
He didn't let her finish her thought; he immediately threw his arms around her and crumpled, pulling her to her knees on the floor with him. Bewildered, she wrapped her arms around him as he wept on her shoulder, letting him pour his grief onto her scrubs. He found that once the floodgates were opened, he couldn't stop the waters that rushed out of him from flowing. Each time he remembered their faces, a sharp stake pierced a hole through his chest, prompting a new wave of tears. Bi-han's memory hurt the worst, though.
"I killed him, Ahn," he chattered. "I killed my brother. Bi-han...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...It's all my fault…" He babbled like that over and over like a madman. The cool dampness of his wife's skin and her clean scent did little to comfort him, but she did, oh God, she did. In spite of his hysterics, her thin arms tightly holding him soothed his soul. "Forgive me…" he whimpered to her, to all of them.
Anya gently rocked with him for a few moments but then gasped when her psychometric powers showed her his thoughts, feeding her weeks of information in mere seconds. "No," she moaned. "Oh, no, no, no, no." Now she began to cry too. "Tommy…" she breathed. "Morgan...Bi-han...Oh, God, no."
"It's all my fault. All of this. " As he said it, he broke down again.
His wife pulled away from him and looked him in the eye, but she was not angry. Rather, she regarded him with pity. "Stop it," she admonished. "This is Reiko's fault, that bastard. You were a victim too."
"But I-"
"No buts," she sniffled as she cut him off and wiped her face. "There's no time for this now. Tommy needs us. All of our children do."
That proved to be the thing to snap Kuai Liang out of it, so he took a few deep, calming breaths and wiped his face clean with Anya's towel. She was right; the grief and self-loathing could wait. Right now, his children needed him to be their rock, now more than ever.
"I love you," he told her barely above a whisper.
She wistfully smiled before she pulled his lips to hers. "I love you too," she breathed before she kissed him.
"No," he pulled away, knowing full well that she was trying to heal his injuries. "Save your strength for Tommy. He's...he's hurt badly, Ahn."
She frowned but nodded. "Okay," she softly replied. "Okay."
Without another word, Anya pulled the Grandmaster to his feet, took his hand in hers, and led him from her room.
Sam and Jamie never left Tommy's side as they carried him on a stretcher through the portal to safety. At Ft. Albany, the Army medics rushed him to a treatment room reserved for the worst injuries and conditions. There, the trauma nurses hooked him up to IV's and various other devices to prep him for possible surgery. They remained at his side through all of this, the only exception being when they rushed him out for x-rays, a CT scan, and a MRI. When the techs returned him, Sam immediately gripped his hand with hers and rested her other palm on his head, willing his wounds away.
Unfortunately, repairing spinal cords was far above her present ability. Sam's healing powers were strong, but not that strong. She doubted that even their mother could do it without stealing the life force from some sacrificial lamb, and doing that was a horrific crime with serious consequences, at least according to Himavat. Also, the young Healer had already expended most of her energy healing warriors in Seido. Without a chance to rest and recharge, she doubted she was strong enough to heal him, even if, by some miracle, she was capable of it. So her attempts to heal his fractured back and severed spinal cord were not going well.
It was a point not lost on Tommy, who angrily shoved her away after a minute. "Go away," he hissed at her. "Just leave me alone."
"Tommy!" she yelped in exasperation. The Hydromancer Healer reached for her big brother again only to be met with the same result. "Stop that!"
"Leave me alone!" he yelled back.
"Bro, what gives?" Jamie asked from his spot on the counter by the sink.
"Sammie can't do anything to help me and she knows it," he spat. "I can feel her fear when she touches me, so I don't want to be touched."
"Hey!" Sam cried. "I'm doing my best! Don't give up hope!"
"How many people just miraculously get better from paralysis, Sammie?" he fired back.
"Just because it's rare doesn't mean it's impossible, Tommy," she retorted, bristling. "Even if I can't, maybe someone in Tlachtga could. Those Healers are way more experienced than me." Sam now looked to Livy for help. "Tell him!" she urged.
"Tommy, you've got to let her try," their older sister quietly admonished from her spot on the generic hospital recliner in the corner. As wounded as she was, the triage nurses decided her broken bones weren't life-threatening, so she could wait to be seen. A doctor mercifully gave her a shot of Dilaudid, though, and then Jiayi brought her here to be with her family while he helped the other survivors. Drugged, drowsy, and softly crying into the warm blanket a nurse had given her, the Cryomancer hadn't spoken much since she joined them.
"I don't have to do a damn thing," Tommy snapped at her. "If you're so gung-ho to have her heal someone let her heal you."
"I'd rather she use what energy she has left on you," she replied. "You're in a lot worse shape than I am."
"And I always will be, won't I?" he growled. "It's not like Dad's here to sacrifice himself to save me like he did for you. And I don't exactly see any concerned gods lining up to help. So yeah, I'm in worse shape than you are. Thanks for reminding me of where I stand in the universe, you cold-hearted bitch."
Sam recoiled in shock. For all his quirks and foibles and shortcomings, Tommy never spoke that way to anyone, least of all his siblings. Never. But this time was different. When the young Healer had touched him, she sensed newborn darkness spreading through him like India ink. It was fury, yes. Most of it was understandable. But a blood-black part of it was pure, unmitigated rage for being beaten so easily in battle against the Seidan called Darrius, for his father who made all of this happen, for the cruel gods who didn't even care, for Fate for writing this into his destiny...But for all his anger, that darkness was also jealousy and hatred and resentment...Resentment for Livy. It was because she was Dad's favorite, and she was the one who got all his attention, and she was the one he picked to be the next Grandmaster, and she was the one he'd gladly kill himself for if she needed saving. Not Tommy. Not Jamie. Not Sammie. No. Livy. Always Livy. Sam had sensed Tommy's utter certainty that when the Grandmaster returned from checking on their mother, he'd fuss more over Livy's wounds than his son's.
Sam and Jamie both looked at their older sister in alarm, bracing for a screaming match. But instead of yelling at him or even firing back with her usual bitchy comment, Livy merely took a breath, sadly nodded while blinking back fresh tears, and looked out the window. That was weird. She'd never given up that easily before. It was almost as strange as the daggers their brother was giving her from his eyes. Perhaps it was all the drugs the doctor gave to her for her pain; they numbed everything else too.
A new voice, however, was not so defeated. "Thomas Halsey Sullivan!" the familiar woman scolded. "I don't ever want to hear you talk to your sister like that again!"
Surprised, the siblings all looked at the doorway and saw Anya standing there with their father right behind her. Pale and somewhat gaunt, their mother had seen better days. But she was alive and, thank God, awake. The nurse smiled warmly at all four of them as happy tears sprang to her eyes.
"Momma!" Sam breathed before she flew crying into the woman's arms. She was not alone; Jamie yelled "Mom!" before he leapt off the counter and nearly tackled her. The three of them stood there in the doorway for a long moment as the Grandmaster squeezed through and stood by Livy's chair. Finally, Sam pulled away and looked up at Anya. "I tried so hard to heal you, Momma," she told her. "But you just wouldn't wake up, and I-" Her face wrenched into an ugly expression as her voice dissolved into tears.
"I know you did your best, Baby," she reassured her. "All of you. You were all so brave and strong." Sam nodded before Anya planted kisses on her and Jamie's heads. "I love you both so much," she murmured and then pushed between them into the room where she met her oldest daughter's gaze. "Livy, Baby, I know you're in a lot of pain and I'm gonna help you as soon as I can, but Tommy needs me more right now."
"Yeah, he does," she quietly agreed before she looked out the window again.
Anya then sat on the edge of the hospital bed beside Tommy and took his hand in hers. "Hey, Baby," she greeted him. He was already sobbing so she cupped his cheek and wiped his tears away with her thumb.
"Momma," he whimpered as Sam took a spot on his other side.
Her eyes brightened in amusement. "You haven't called me that in years. Too grown up, I guess." She winked at him and patted him on the leg. "My ornery little man." She softly laughed at that and he managed to croak one out too.
"Momma," Sam began, "the doctor said the scans show fractures in his spine from the T-6 to T-11 vertebrae and his spinal cord was crushed and severed at the T-7 vertebrae."
The nurse absorbed the information, nodded her understanding, and then sighed before she looked at her son again. She squeezed his hand. Tommy, I've never healed a spinal cord injury before," she told him. "It might take me a few tries to heal it, and we might have to get some extra help from the Healers in Tlachtga, but we're not gonna give up, okay?"
He was still crying. "And what if nothing works?" he moaned. "What if I'm stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of my life?"
"Why don't we cross that bridge when we come to it?" their father gently suggested.
What was meant to be words of encouragement proved to be the exact wrong thing to say. Tommy's head whipped around to glare at the Grandmaster. "Why are you even here?" he snarled. "Shouldn't you be off helping Reiko conquer the world?"
"I-" Kuai Liang started but was interrupted by Sam.
"Reiko's dead!" she yelled at him.
"Like that changes anything. He made all of this happen. The Temple's ruined because of him. So are the Fire Gardens. And Seido. He doesn't belong here. He's a traitor!" He glared at the Grandmaster. "Get out!"
"You're way out of line, Thomas," their father snapped.
"No, you're out of line!"
"Tommy, he's our dad," Sam squealed, exasperated by him.
"No, he's not," he argued. "He just tried to kill us all. As far as I'm concerned, he's just Mom's sperm donor-"
"That's enough!" Anya now shouted over all of them. They instantly went silent and now she looked at Tommy again. "Apologize," she commanded. 'Now."
"No!" he argued. "You didn't see what he did, Mom," he darkly replied, glaring at their father once again. "He killed and maimed so many people. Our people. Thousands. It should've been him to die today, not them."
"He wasn't himself and you damn well know it," she replied. "He is not a traitor and to say otherwise is completely unfair. And I will not sit here and let you talk about my husband that way. So apologize. Now."
"But-"
"No buts," she cut him off. "We already have enough problems to deal with today. We don't have time for the finger-pointing and the blame game. So tell him you're sorry."
Tommy swallowed hard and grudgingly sighed. "Sorry," he grumbled. It was totally insincere, Sam thought, but Anya didn't make him repeat it more nicely. It was the point of the matter, the young Hydromancer knew.
Instead, she said, "Now, we're all going to roll you onto your stomach so I can touch your backbone, okay? We're going to do this very carefully so we don't make the damage worse."
"I already healed the fractures, Momma," Sam reported.
"That's good, Sammie," she replied, "but we still need to be extra cautious. Kuai Liang? Jamie?" she motioned for them to grip Tommy's hips and ankles respectively while she took his head and Sam took his shoulder. "On three," she said. "One, two, three!" As one, they maneuvered him onto his stomach like he was a log in a fluid, precise motion. Then she looked at her other three children. "Why don't you guys go wait in the hallway while I work? See if there's anything you can do to help the nurses out there."
"Yes, Momma," Sam obediently said as she immediately went to help Livy to her feet.
"But I want to stay with Tommy!" his twin protested.
"Do as your mother says," the Grandmaster firmly commanded, and Jamie didn't argue any further.
Sam, meanwhile, threaded her arm through her sister's good one before the three left their mother to care for Tommy. Their father, recognizing that he'd just be in the way, followed them. Chaos still reigned out in the hall, but at least one last hard plastic chair remained to sit on. Sam carefully deposited Livy into it while their brother and father guarded them both. And then the young Healer knelt before the Cryomancer.
"I guess since Mom is busy helping Tommy, that frees me up to help you." She wistfully smiled.
"I'm sorry," Livy blurted out. "I failed and now our family is in shambles and this is gonna kill Grammy Maggie too and...I'm just so sorry." She wrenched her face up and began to cry again. Embarrassed, she covered her eyes with her good hand.
"Livy, you fought like a lion," their father told her. "This is not your fault. It's mine." He patted her good shoulder.
"Has no one tended to your wounds yet?" Prince Jiayi asked Livy in concern as he approached. She shook her head no.
Sam glanced at him and now spotted the stethoscope hanging from around his neck. "Where did you get that?" she asked, pointing.
He looked down at his chest in surprise. "Oh," he chuckled in amusement. "One of your Earthrealm nurses generously gave it to me. It's archaic next to the Seidan standard, but it'll suffice for now."
"Okay, Mother Teresa," Jamie began, "I know you want to help but I think you should stay out of the doctors' way."
The Prince regarded him in surprise. "But...I am a doctor," he protested.
"Yeah, and I'm the Pope," the other scoffed while the Grandmaster suspiciously frowned and crossed his arms beside him.
"It's true," Livy now said as tears silently streaked down her face. "He is."
Sam worriedly glanced at her. The Cryomancer was usually so sure of herself, and so so strong. If ever there was a shining example of a true force of nature, she was it. But now, she slumped on her chair like a rag doll, her face expressionless, her sapphire eyes blankly staring off into space. Unwittingly, she rocked ever-so-slightly back and forth. Seeing Livy so despondent, so...defeated...It frightened Sam.
"Oh," Jamie said, breaking through her thoughts. "I did not see that one coming."
Jiayi nodded. "I get that a lot." Then he knelt beside Sam and looked up at Livy. "Your countrymen have their hands full with greater concerns, so let me treat you, Milady."
Sam bristled at that as an unexpected flare of jealousy flashed through her heart. "I was about to heal her," she told him more than a little possessively.
The Crown Prince nodded again, and this time patted the Hydromancer's hand, which was on her sister's knee. For added emphasis, he squeezed it as well, and in that moment she saw into his head. Her powers specifically found his memories of surviving in the Temple for a couple of days after the attack, how he carefully arranged the bodies of the Lin Kuei on the balconies so that the cold could preserve them until they could be properly buried, how he found his way to Livy's quarters and found warmth and comfort there, how Himavat came to him and commanded him to protect her. And like an overcast day hanging over each of those moments, she drowned in his feelings of falling, falling through time and space and stars and sky and everything in between. He fell for days and weeks and what felt like lifetime across lifetimes. She fell with him, but when she realized it, she jerked with a start and looked at him with bulging eyes as she quickly yanked her hand away. He looked at her knowingly and then flashed her a wistful smile before he gazed back at Livy.
"Well, in that case," he began, "may I watch you, Samantha? It's not often I get to watch the Hydromancers use their healing gifts."
"Sure," she slowly agreed, still stunned by his mind's revelations. Still, she couldn't help but wonder if his curiosity was merely because the Cryomancers couldn't stop killing Hydromancers for five freaking minutes. Sam gripped her sister's hands and slowly stroked the knuckles on top.
"You should rest, Sammie," Livy softly admonished. "You're exhausted."
"Look who's talking," she replied.
"I'm serious," she countered.
"Me too."
"You can't keep giving and giving if you wear yourself down and use up your energy," she argued. "You'll have nothing left to give."
"It's what you would do," she argued as she closed her eyes and concentrated. Her powers were muted but not burned up completely, and at her command, the bruises and abrasions began to knit together as if they never were. Livy's wounds were challenging, and they would undoubtedly require a follow-up session when the Hydromancer had recuperated for a while, but they were not as difficult to treat as Tommy's.
"Fascinating," Jiayi remarked as he lifted Livy's hand and studied her knuckles, which were rapidly knitting back together. "What does it feel like to be healed by a Hydromancer?" he then asked her.
Sam rolled her eyes. "I can heal you too if you want," she drily remarked.
The Crown Prince looked at her in surprise. "You would do that for me?" he asked in astonishment.
"Not if you're gonna be weird about it," she replied.
He chuckled softly. "My apologies," he told her. "I did not mean to be…weird."
"Whatever, dude," she mumbled before she took his hand and closed her eyes.
Once more, she plunged into the sensation of falling, of longing, of emotions so intense that she thought she might explode, of memories that spoke to her of his unfailing sense of honor and duty. Jiayi, she sensed, was old and wise, brave and fierce, cunning and tragic. But he was also kind and merciful too, a Healer in his own right like her. His spirit washed over her soul like a warm surf on the beach, the gentle seafoam pleasantly rushing around her.
"You read my mind," he gasped when she was finished, a common reaction.
"It just happens," she told him. "I usually don't go snooping around unless I have a good reason to. My mother taught me to let people have their privacy. It's important."
"See anything juicy?" Jamie now asked. Sam glanced at him but said nothing as she exchanged a look with the Prince. She'd seen a lot. But nothing she wanted to share with her family just yet.
"Thank you, Samantha," Jiayi told her as he stood up. "I feel reinvigorated. That felt like diving into the ocean."
"Yeah, it's not bad at all," Livy told him as she got to her feet as well. "She does a good job. Our mother has taught her a lot."
"Then I count myself blessed to be in such good company," he smiled at the Hydromancer.
"Thanks," she quietly replied. She couldn't quite meet his gaze; it was almost humiliating knowing his innermost thoughts. She certainly almost wished she didn't know what she now knew, but it was too late to unring that particular bell now. Oh well.
"Are you injured as well?" Jiayi now asked both Sam and Jamie.
Her brother scoffed. "Dude, we're Hydromancers," he replied. "We'll be fine."
He smirked but then smoothed his face and gazed at the Grandmaster as well. "And you, Lord?" he asked.
"I will survive until my wife can heal me," he told him as he side-hugged Livy.
The Crown Prince nodded. "Very well, then," he said. "Then let us all continue helping the other survivors."
Dazedly, Sonya walked through the hangar with the smells of blood and shit and burnt flesh following her, mingling with air full of acrid smoke that wafted through the portal when they'd all fled Seido. Men were groaning and whimpering all around her, and every now and then a scream would pierce the air, thick with pain. It all made her eyes water, and then the thought prompted her jaw to set in its usually steely determination. She must not let her soldiers see. She was a general - their General - and she couldn't afford to show them her weakness. It hurt so much, though. It hurt to be strong.
"General," Cassie formally addressed her, drawing her attention. She looked at her only daughter and saw smoke and blood and dust soiling the young woman's face around gouges in her cheeks and forehead. She had attempted to wipe the filth away but a couple of dry paper towels hadn't gotten her very far.
"What is it, Sergeant?" she asked with an equally ceremonious tone.
"The men need to hear from you," she said. "We took a shellacking today and…well, I think they need a pep talk."
"You know I'm not very good at those," Sonya quietly replied. "I'm probably the last person they want to hear from right now anyway."
"No, Mom, that's not true," her underling argued with her in hushed tones, dropping all hints of tradition. "They need to hear from you the most. We lost so many people today. Please. It means more coming from you…You're our General. We need to hear you tell us it's going to be okay. I need to hear that."
She inhaled, her voice trembling as if she meant to start crying any moment now. But she never would, Sonya knew. Cassie was tough like her, hard as nails when she needed to be for the good of the men and women serving under her. But even tough girls needed reassurance from their mothers every now and then, Sonya reminded herself.
"Okay," she whispered back, patting her daughter on the shoulder. "I'll do my best."
"Thank you," her daughter replied and then motioned for her to walk to the elevated dais where the portal control panels were so she could see everyone and they could see her.
"Rangers, on me!" she snapped, calling everyone to attention. Even the Rangers operating the portal behind her jumped in their seats and swiveled around to look at her. Fiercely, she gripped the railing at the edge of the dais, flanked on either side by Cassie and Kenshi, as her soldiers as well as Johnny, Jax, Jacqui, Jin, Takeda, Kabal, Stryker, and Erron lined up in front of her. A moment later, Hotaru and his children, plus many Seidans both warriors and refugees alike, gathered around as well. They all stared at Sonya with bated breaths, and she, in turn, gulped as the familiar pangs of stage fright set in. She hated public speaking, especially impromptu speechifying.
She cleared her throat and then loudly began. "I don't know what to say, really," she breathed and rested her hand on her daughter's shoulder while she surveyed her surviving brigade of soldiers. "Today was an absolute shitshow. You all fought as hard as I've ever asked you to, and your performance was exemplary. The battle didn't go the way we thought it would go, and that happens sometimes. But don't think for one fucking second that you didn't fight as valiantly as you could've because as far as I'm concerned, your valor and your superior skills were the only reason more warriors weren't lost on the battlefield. You saved a lot of lives today, both human and Seidan alike.
"I know that's a small comfort when so many of our brothers and sisters fell today. But we can't rest yet. This is far from over. As bad as Seido was, we're still facing down the biggest battle of our lives, even more than when Shao Kahn tried to invade us or when Shang Tsung and Quan Chi resurrected the Dragon King. I have a feeling that as shitty as those moments were, they were just cakewalks compared to what's coming now, so it's a damn good thing that we're Americans because Americans love to fight and we're all up to the task."
"We're not Americans, though," Jin chimed in as he pointed to himself and Takeda, always having to have the sassy last word.
She sharply looked at him, more than a little annoyed he'd interrupted her, and more than that for being wrong. "Bull-shit, you're not," she told him. "Jin, that goddamn mouth of yours is the most quintessential American thing ever. The defiance, that oh-so-contemptuous defiance. It's something distinctly unique to us. Other nations back down in fear when confronted with tyranny and oppression. But not us. Our people were forged in the fires of oppression and tyranny only tempers us until we're stronger. When the Devil tells us to move, we proudly look him in the eye and say, 'You first.' I will scream that to my dying day, I will have it emblazoned on my gravestone." She shook her head. "Being an American is more than just being born in the United States, Jin. It's a goddamn attitude. A spirit. And whether you like it or not, you have that same rebellious spirit that the rest of us do, that same will to fight."
Sonya surveyed her underlings again. "All real Americans love the sting and clash of battle. When you were kids, you all admired the best athlete in your school, or the fastest runner, or the best big-league ball players, or the toughest boxers. Americans love a winner and will not tolerate a loser. Americans play to win all the time. My own father used to crush me at Candyland when I was a little girl because it taught me to get better and win." She then looked back at the Shaolin monk. "That's you, Jin, to the letter. You can't sit there and tell me right now that you'd be okay with someone outclassing you at archery." She almost smirked when he bristled at that, knowing full well that he'd practice all hours of the day just to reclaim his title if ever someone should best him. She knowingly smiled at him and then the others. "The very thought of losing is hateful to all real Americans. If it wasn't, then those farmers with pitchforks under George Washington's command never would've achieved the miracle that was our independence from England and all the tyranny they brought to our shores. Battle is the most significant competition in which a man can indulge. It brings out all that is best in us and it removes all that is base in us. And that's why we're so damn good at it.
"Things look grim," she continued with a strong, confident voice, "but you're not all going to die. I know that even the chance that one of us could die is scary, and after what we saw today, there's a lot to be scared about. It's okay. Every man is scared in his first action. If he says he's not, he's a goddamn liar. But the real hero is the person who keeps fighting even though he or she is scared. Some men will get over their fright in a minute under fire, some take an hour, and for some it takes days. But the real soldier never lets his fear of death overpower his honor, his sense of duty to his country, and his innate manhood.
"An army is a team. It lives, eats, sleeps, and fights as a team. This individual hero stuff is bullshit. The clueless bastards who write that stuff for The New York Times or CNN don't know any more about real battle than they do about politics. And we have the best team - we have the finest food and equipment, the best spirit and the best men in the world, even by the United States military's standard. You're Rangers. You're the best of the best. Why, by God, I actually pity these poor bastards we're going up against!"
Sonya swallowed hard and clutched the railing, deep in thought. When she began to speak again, her voice was a little softer. "All the real heroes are not storybook combat fighters," she said. "Every single man in the special forces - hell, even the Army or even the other branches as a whole - plays a vital role. So don't ever let up. Don't ever think that your job is unimportant. What if every truck driver decided that he didn't like the whine of the mortar shells or the enemy planes doing strafing runs, and he turned yellow and jumped headlong into a ditch to get away? That cowardly bastard could say to himself, 'Hell, they won't miss me, just one man.' But what if every man said that? Where in the hell would we be then? No, thank God, Americans don't say that. Every man does his job. Every man is important. The ordnance men are needed to supply the guns, the quartermaster is needed to bring up the food and clothes for us because where we are going there isn't a hell of a lot to steal. Every last damn man in the mess hall, even the one who boils the water to keep us from getting the shits, has a job to do.
"And with that in mind, each man here must think not only of himself, but think of his buddy fighting alongside him. Sure, we all want to go home. We want to get this war over with. But as Americans know all too well, you can't win a war lying down, and there are no one-man armies here. Fight with courage in your heart for all of these men and women just as these men and women around you would fight for you. Remember, the quickest way to get this shit over with is to get the bastards who started it. We want to get the hell over there and clean the goddamn thing up as soon as possible. The quicker they're whipped, the quicker we go home. The shortest way home is straight ahead. So keep moving. And when we get a chance to face Shinnok again, I am personally going to shoot that Crypt Keeper looking son-of-a-bitch myself!"
The General's bold declaration was met with emboldened hooting and hollering from her men, and even a few of the Seidan warriors too, but she wasn't done yet. She waited a moment for her men to quiet down, and then she motioned her hands for them to shut the hell up. "Some of you are now probably wondering whether or not you'll chicken out under fire," she continued. "Don't worry about it. I can assure you that you'll all do your duty. I know each and every one of you, and I know you're made of tough grit. But always remember that war is a bloody business, a killing business. Shinnok and his ilk are the enemy. Wade into them and ruthlessly spill their blood or they will spill yours. Shoot them in the guts. Rip open their belly. When shells are hitting all around you and you wipe the dirt from your face and you realize that it's not dirt, it's the blood and guts of what was once your best friend, you'll know what to do."
Then she said, "We'll win this war, but we'll win it only by fighting and showing Shinnok and the Netherrealm cunts that we've got more guts than they have or ever will have. We're not just going to shoot the bastards, we're going to rip out their living goddamned guts and use them to grease the treads of our tanks. We're going to murder those lousy Tarkatan cocksuckers by the fucking bushel. We're going to hold Shinnok by his balls and we're going to kick him in the ass; twist his balls and kick the living shit out of him as hard as we can as much as we can. Our plan of operation is to advance and keep on advancing. We're going to go through the enemy like shit through a tinhorn. We are going to be the biggest pain up his ass since the last time Earthrealm's defenders kicked it. And as long as you keep that in the forefront of your brain as a given, you'll be just fine."
Sonya didn't hold back on the gruesome imagery she was filling their minds with. She wanted to make a vivid impression on them. "There will be some complaints that I'm pushing you too hard. I don't give a damn about such complaints. I believe that an ounce of sweat will save a gallon of blood. The harder we push, the more of his minions that we kill. The more of those assholes we kill, the fewer of our men will be killed. Pushing harder means fewer casualties. I want you all to remember that. My men don't surrender. I don't want to hear of any soldier under my command being captured unless he is hit. And even if you are hit, you can still fight. As long as you're conscious and as long as you're drawing breath, you can fight.
"The nice thing about that is that there's one thing you men will be able to say when this war is over and you get back home. Thirty years from now when you're sitting by your fireside with your grandkids on your knees and they ask, 'What did you do in the Earthrealm War,' you won't have to cough and say, 'Well, your granddad hid away in a closet because he needed a safe space because he was triggered, or, your grandma was an influencer on Instagram.' No sir, you can look those grandkids straight in the eye and say 'Kid, your granddaddy or grandma fought with the great Army Rangers under that goddamned-bitch General named Sonya Blade!"
More cheering erupted amongst her men, and she couldn't help but note that many of their Seidan and Outworld allies now cheered as well. Good. Everyone needed the pep talk. "All right, you sons of bitches," she smiled when the noise died down. "You know how I feel. I'll be proud to lead you wonderful men and women in battle anytime, anywhere. That is all."
"Bi-han!" Sareena yelled over the din of wounded soldiers screaming and Army personnel rushing around to put order to chaos. "Bi-han!" she howled again.
The demoness, not seeing him amongst the more mobile survivors in the portal hangar, rushed towards the hospital where all the critically wounded were being rushed. She followed a medic wheeling a Seidan with his legs hacked off a couple inches below the knee through the maze, all while calling her lover's name. But all that met her was a steady stream of cold air pushing against her, making her shudder softly. She felt a moment's terror as familiar darkness pressed in on her beneath atrocious fluorescent lights, constricting her somehow with each step that she took, as if the walls and ceiling of this hospital hallway were shifting inward. If she hadn't been so desperate to find Bi-han, she would've run from that oppressive force. The mortals swarming around her in this crowded hospital couldn't possibly notice it, but this child of the Netherrealm could hardly ignore Death's icy fingers touching this place, probing for souls to steal.
"Sareena!" she heard a voice call to her, but she ignored him. It wasn't Bi-han's familiar timbre, so it didn't matter. She had to find him and get out of here. She saw the shadow materializing in front of her now, a blockage mocking her.
"Sareena!" the voice yelled louder now, jarring her from her vision. Slowly, she craned her head around and saw Kuai Liang running towards her.
"Where's Bi-han?" she demanded to know. Her voice was oddly flat and emotionless, a far cry from her usual sultry tone.
"Oh, Sareena," he sighed as he reached her, looking down at his feet. He gripped her arms and bit his lip. "He didn't make it."
The demoness stood there in stunned silence for a moment before exploding into giggles. "You almost got me, Kuai Liang," she chuckled, refusing to believe him for a single second. "Imagine, Bi-han of all people not surviving. That's absurd!" She cackled rather insanely, she later thought. "That was a naughty trick, Baby. Your brother won't be too happy with you for lying to me like that to make me worry."
"Sareena-"
"Or maybe he was in on it too to test how much I care," she babbled on cheerfully. "In which case, he's in trouble too. He should know by now how much I care for him. This is not a good time to be playing jokes on each other."
The Cryomancer swallowed hard. "Shinnok killed him," he told her, his face a serious mask.
"No, you're lying," she argued. "The trick is over, Kuai Liang," she said more firmly. "It wasn't funny and now I'd like to know where he is," she said, though now her voice began to waver and warble, cracking under the pressure. It was as if she had walled herself up in a castle made of disbelief, but that castle was built on a foundation of sand, that castle was sand, and it was now collapsing under the weight of itself. "Tell me where he is, Kuai Liang. Tell me!"
"I told you," he softly replied, shaking his head. "He's gone. And my sister is gone too."
"No, you're wrong," she snapped. "You're wrong. You're telling me that Bi-han, the greatest of all you Earthrealmers, didn't come back here. Your inexperienced children came back here, and Tomas' children came back here, and all sorts of Seidan children came back here, but my Bi-han didn't?"
"Sareena, I-"
"No!" she shrieked a short, manic cry. "You are not telling me that Bi-han couldn't survive what mere children could," she barked, her eyes filling up with tears.
Without warning, Kuai Liang wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, and then the floodgates opened. She began to sob on his shoulder, occasionally wimping for Bi-han, screaming curses at the gods for her grief. Somewhere close by, she heard the dark shadow of Death lingering over this ward laughing at her pain. And there it was, the cruelest joke of all. Death's greatest power wasn't taking life; it was making those left behind want to stop living. As she thought it, she collapsed into the Grandmaster's arms as her knees gave way, and he gently led her to a chair nearby to bawl like a little child.
She stilled her tears quickly, and soon chased Kuai Liang away because she wanted to be alone, just a solitary island in all this noise and confusion. Besides, he needed to check on everyone else and assist General Blade. He didn't need to babysit his brother's lover; it wasn't as if she'd rip her clothes and froth at the mouth and pull out her hair like the ancient Jews would've. She was a demon, after all, and there were certain expectations.
The people in the hospital had been struck by her calmness. They hadn't appreciated her inability to understand something which is quite obvious to demons - that Bi-han was no longer among the living. She knew better than these mortals how a soul can live in torment for years and years, even decades, as it slowly, stone by stone, builds a mound over a grave; as it moves towards the apprehension of eternal loss and bows down before reality. Sareena thought of the ancient Jews again and remembered how one time, she saw the women drop to the ground in hysterics when the Romans executed their father, and oh, how they screamed and tore at their hair. But Sareena couldn't even manage that. She could hardly move a muscle.
She sat on the chair that Kuai Liang dropped her on instead, hands limp in her lap, eyes staring at nothing, letting her mind fly on. She let it fly on until it found the place, the good and safe place where Bi-han had built his cabin in the mountains, where his small barley field was green, where the water ran clear and the cottonwood seeds danced by the thousands in the air; where she was reading a book beneath an aspen and he was napping on her lap with his hands laced across his chest, and where she could dip her feet in the stream and dream good dreams beneath the watchful gaze of gods of ancient, sun-bleached rock.
Calling her feelings for him just a simple schoolgirl crush was like saying a Rolls-Royce was just a vehicle with four wheels, something like a hay-wagon. She did not giggle wildly and blush when she saw him, nor did she chalk his and her name in hearts on trees or write it on the walls of the Kissing Bridge. She simply lived with his face in her heart all the time, a kind of sweet, hurtful ache. She would have died for him.
But he beat her to it.
And now she couldn't breathe.
Hotaru soon found her and looked down on her pitifully, his snow white hair dusty with soot and ash. "The sorrow we feel when we lose a loved one is the price we pay for having them in our lives," he told her somberly before sitting on the chair beside her.
"I know you mean well," she quietly began, leaning akimbo in her chair and not particularly caring how crazy she looked at the moment, "but that was neither original nor clever, so I'll thank you for keeping your opinions to yourself."
The Captain of the Seidan Guard inhaled and then leaned back in his chair. "I, too, lost my beloved many years ago in battle when the Chaosrealm denizens invaded Seido. Havik himself killed my wife. I know the pain you are experiencing right now." He paused to look at her, and their eyes met. "Though no priest or shaman joined you in marriage, it is obvious to me that you were joined in your hearts. You brought out the light in each other. At its best, that is what marriage is meant to be."
"And now it's gone," she lamented before looking away again.
"That is where you're wrong, Sareena Flameshaper," he protested. "Bi-han was a troubled man haunted by the ghosts of many demons both real and in his head. But through it all, he sought peace and quiet, the most important of all Seidan virtues. He strived to be honest and to do the right thing, and in the end, I think his greatest evidence of that is you."
Now she looked at him in puzzlement. "Me?" she protested, not even trying to conceal her laughter. "I'm not any of those things."
"Aren't you, though?" he challenged. "Did you not turn against your Realm to fight on the side of order and goodness? Would you have done that if not for Bi-han?"
She shrugged. "Probably not."
"His mercy on you that day in Quan Chi's fortress all those years ago may have decided the fate of many, including yours," he cracked a rare smile. "That is his greatest legacy."
"I just thought we had more time," she breathed as her face wrenched up and tears leaked out.
"Everyone thinks that," he gently reminded her. "I thought that often when my wife was slain. It is a gift the gods do not grant to everyone, unfortunately. Such is the order of things."
"Ugh, order this, order that!" she now squealed in frustration as she jumped to her feet. "You are a slave to order!" she yelled. "Just once, can't one of the Seidan Guard drop the stiff upper lip routine and feel something normal? How are you supposed to console me if you're nothing but a robot?"
Hotaru sighed. "Order is the very fabric of our foundation," he reminded her. "What mighty things could we achieve if we concerned ourselves constantly with the chaos of life?" He wistfully smiled. "That said, Sareena, when Havik took my wife, I came as close to chaotic as I've ever allowed myself to be. I set out on a quest for revenge. I slaughtered Chaosrealmers without mercy and nothing could stay my hand. Many of my warriors died in my cause. Make no mistake, it was purely my cause. The Elders did not sanction my actions. So I saw firsthand how devastating it can be to give yourself over to chaos. It made me into someone I did not want to be."
Sareena bit her lip and sat down again. "What stopped you?" she wondered as she dried her face.
"My children," he softly replied. "Kazuya, Eiji, Hideo, and little Aimi," he said. "My sons and my daughter needed me to guide them more than ever, especially since their mother was gone and they didn't quite understand how to manage their grief. I realized they needed me with them more than they needed me dead on some fool's errand in Chaosrealm. I had to live…for them."
"I don't have anyone that needs me now," she sighed, looking away.
"You have this motley crew of warriors who need your invaluable insight into the workings of the Netherrealm," he reminded her. "But beyond that, Bi-han would want you to live for his family as he lived for them. Hold onto them if nothing else, Sareena."
She nodded. "Okay," she agreed. Then the two sat in silence after that, contemplating loss.
caroccio66, well, perhaps there's no happy ending for them in the apparent way, but the way I look at it is like they - and especially Bi-han - don't have to deal with the coming shit show. Plus, there is peace in death. So maybe they're the lucky ones?
Praxus84, yeah, the coming story will be wild, I hope! And yes, I have high hopes for Jiayi too.
MKDemiGodzilla-Warrior, I actually went back and revised that first story and changed Gaia to Cetrion. It was just a little tweak but after she was introduced as basically Mother Earth, it just made sense for me to do that. And yeah, I had planned to kill those three off from the very beginning of this story. Don't worry, it serves a purpose that you'll see in the next story. But apart from that, I really felt like I had to let some of these characters die because otherwise, would the readers feel the stakes as highly if they always knew people would survive? Thank you for the 10 years! I probably wouldn't have made it so long without readers like you always making my day with your encouraging reviews :)
Obelisk of Light, thank you for that, and thank you for being one of the ones who've been with me for most of this time! Can't believe it's been nearly 10 years since I first started talking to you! And what a time it's been. And LOL yeah, in my head Shinnok is way more vicious and evil than Onaga, and Onaga was a cruel bastard, so I had to up the stakes a little. I'm glad you liked the version I wrote as well as this version of Cetrion. I hope you liked the scene above with Fujin fighting himself. I know we talked about having Kailyn be the one who talked him down, but it occurred to me as I was writing that Tomas made better sense to me.
Guest, that's true. From the get-go, I wanted Reiko's death to be anti-climatic. I kept thinking of the line from T.S. Eliot's poem, "The Hollow Men": This is how the world ends; not with a bang but a whimper. He went through all this trouble and did all this evil, and for what? To die like a pathetic slug because of Havik's manipulation and lies.