Three months ago,

Kung Lao, a man in his late twenties, with short, black hair, and a hat with a razor sharp blade on its rim. He was currently sharpening his hat, when his longtime friend and ally, Liu Kang, walked into his little room in the apartment the Shaolin call their dojo. When Kung Lao heard the door open, he looked up and grimaced. Liu Kang grinned and said, "Good morning to you, too. What do you think the masters' decision will be for Shang Tsung's tournament?"

Kung Lao, not once looking up from sharpening his hat, replied, "I could care less." Liu Kang was shocked. Never had he heard Kung Lao say anything that disrespectful about the masters. But before Liu Kang could reply, Kung Lao looked up, and sighed. He said, "You know what? I do care. I care because I think that the Shaolin have lost their ways."

Liu Kang scoffed in disgust and said, "How could you say such a thing? The Shaolin are a group of proud and honorable monks. We fight for justice, free will, and—"

"Let me stop you there, Liu," interrupted Kung Lao. "We are not honorable. We don't fight for justice. And we defiantly don't fight for free will. The Shaolin were once a proud and noble group. Remember when we join back in China? Before we moved to America? We had some sense of honor. We weren't perfect, but nothing is. But it was better than now."

"The Shaolin were weak, Kung Lao," answered Liu Kang. "This city, and people like Kano, helped mold us into true warriors. Now, we are the top predators in the world, second only to the Lin Keui!"

Kung Lao burst out in laughter. "I wish we were compared to the Shirai Ryu. At least they do not slaughter innocent civilians."

"Are you talking about that," Liu Kang asked. "That was years ago! Forget about that! They meant nothing to us. Forget them."

Kung Lao got up, and said, "I think you should leave Liu Kang."

"I was thinking the same thing about you," replied Liu Kang.

Kung Lao narrowed his eyes, and threw a right fist directly into Liu Kang's nose. Liu Kang stumbled back and put his hand to his nose. He looked and saw blood. He let out an inhuman snarl, and spear tackled Kung Lao. He began punching Kung Lao's gut, but the hat-bearing Shaolin monk wouldn't tolerate it. He grabbed the next punch, and countered with his own. Liu Kang stumbled off, and then snap kicked Kung Lao in the gut. He doubled over in pain, but proceeded to tackle him through the wall, leading out to the hallway.

Several monks stopped and watch the brawl, but soon ran off to get some masters. Kung Lao began punching Liu Kang in the nose. Liu Kang then punched him in the groin, and backhanded him. Kung Lao propped himself up on a wall, holding his groin. Liu Kang then roundhouse kicked Kung Lao in the face. He then picked him up by the neck, and ruthlessly pounded his face in. Kung Lao then grabbed one of the punches and threw a left directly in Liu Kang's temple.

Liu Kang let go, and held his bleeding ear. When he looked back up a Kung Lao, he barely saw the fist flying at his face. He was knocked back several feet, and was now up against a wall. Kung Lao then said, "I didn't want to do this, Liu. I just let my anger get the better of me. I'm sorry."

Liu Kang then said, "No, you're not. Not yet." Liu Kang then grabbed one of the swords hanging from the wall, and told Kung Lao, "You will pay for disrespecting our masters."

Kung Lao then yelled, "They have lost the error of their ways. It's not my fault this city is like a sickness. It infected our ideals, and turned us into monsters."

Liu Kang let out a snarl, and began swing the sword in clumsy motions. Kung Lao dodged them all, and then punched Liu Kang in the face again. Liu Kang then side kicked Kung Lao in the stomach. Kung Lao fell on his back, and rolled out of the way when Liu Kang slammed the sword down, aiming for Kung Lao's head. Kung Lao then did a kip-up, and got into a fighting stance similar to a mantis. Liu Kang evilly grinned, and charged Kung Lao. The short haired Shaolin dodged every sword swipe, and kicked Liu Kang's feet from under him.

Liu Kang's breath got knocked out of his lungs, and began trying to breath in air. Kung Lao walked over to him, and punched him in the back of the skull, knocking him back to the floor. Kung Lao then dropped to Liu Kang's fight, and checked his body for any broken bones. He flipped Liu Kang on his back and saw his nose purple and swollen, defiantly broken.

Just as Kung Lao was about to help him up, Liu Kang's eyes shot open, and head-butted Kung Lao. Kung Lao stumbled back, and he fell down. Liu Kang grinned, and then said, "That is what you get. You never disrespect us. You are not worthy of the name Shaolin." He then grabbed Kung Lao by the collar of his shirt, and looked him in the eye. "I would throw you out that window if it weren't for our friendship," said Liu Kang, "but I will punish you."

He threw Kung Lao across the hall. The defeated Shaolin monk stopped sliding at a robed man's feet. He looked up, and saw the grandmaster looking down on him. Kung Lao slowly got up, and looked the old man in the eye. The grandmaster said, "You dare look me in the eye. You truly are disrespectful."

"At least I don't kill children," said Kung Lao.

The grandmaster laughed, and said, "We do not concern ourselves with collateral."

Kung Lao then said, "They aren't collateral. They are human lives. What happened to when we actually gave a damn about life?"

"We were weak. But now, since we moved our headquarters to this city, we have no moral obligations to human life. Liu Kang," said the grandmaster, pointing to Liu Kang, "understands this. He is a vicious animal. You must let go of our old ways, Kung Lao. Only then will you survive in this harsh environment."

Kung Lao then said, "I like to think that, because I have morals, I am still alive."

The grandmaster said, "Get your stuff, and get out. You are no longer a Shaolin Monk."

"I have everything I need on my body, you piece of shit motherfucker," said Kung Lao.

He grabbed it hat, put it on his head, and, shocking everyone present, spat blood in the grandmasters face. Liu Kang rushed to the grandmaster, only to be stopped. The grandmaster grinned, and said, "You have fight in you, Kung Lao. Never in my years have I seen someone as rebellious as you. While you are no longer Shaolin, you will always have a place in our hearts as the very first traitor."

Kung Lao then said, "I heard, that the deeper a bow, the more respect you have for someone. Is this true?" The grandmaster nodded, and then Kung Lao said, "Then this is how much I respect you." He slightly, ever so slightly, bowed his head. The motion was so subtle, that the grandmaster barely saw it. Kung Lao then walked out of the hotel, leaving several stunned members of the Shaolin.

Only the grandmaster had a smile on his face.

Present day,

Kung Lao was in a shitty bar, in a shitty city, with his shitty life. He tapped his glass on the counter, and the bartender filled it up again. He heard the door open, and looked to see a man with a man in a white insane asylum dressing, brown trench coat, and a straw hat on walked up to him. The man told the bartender, "Coke, please." He then looked at Kung Lao, and said, "Rough night?"

Kung Lao looked over, and answered, "Rough life."

The man nodded his head, and drank the coke that the bartender gave him. He looked at Kung Lao again, and said, "You're one of the Shaolin, aren't you?"

Kung Lao let out an amused sigh, and replied, "I was. The Shaolin and I had a bit of a falling out."

The strange man then said, "What if, say, there was a tournament that you could partake in that would grant you riches beyond your wildest imaginations."

"I'd say, 'You're crazy.'" replied Kung Lao, "and then, 'Go fuck yourself.'"

The man nodded again and said, "Have you ever heard of Shang Tsung?"

Kung Lao said, "Yes, I have. And I know about that fucking tournament, and the fact that it's a fight to the death. So I say again, go fuck yourself."

"There are several men outside, searching for you," said the man. "They wish to arrest you for when you kicked the crap out of Liu Kang."

Kung Lao looked over and said, "You must've read the wrong newspaper, pal. I lost."

"No, you didn't, my friend," replied the man, "you won your freedom. You are no longer shackled by the Shaolin."

Kung Lao then said, "Who the fuck are you, anyway?"

The man grinned, and answered, "My name is Raiden."

Kung Lao looked amused, and said, "Like the god of thunder?"

"Not exactly," replied Raiden. "I was merely nicknamed that in school for my fascination with electricity." He moved the left side of his trench coast showing ten tazers strapped to the inside. Kung Lao's eyes went wide, and he asked, "How the fuck did you get all those tazers?" Raiden grinned, and replied, "I have my ways."

The door opened again, and in walked a man in NYPD body armor and matching cap. He walked up to Kung Lao, and asked, "Are you Kung Lao?"

Kung Lao looked behind him, and replied, "Who want's to know?"

"My name is Kurtis Stryker," answered the officer. "And I have a warrant for your arrest."

Kung Lao swirled around in his chair, and said, "What if I bring you to Shang Tsung?"

Stryker raised his eyebrow, and said, "What do you know about Shang Tsung?"

"I know where the tournament is held every decade, and I can get whoever you want in," replied Kung Lao. "All I ask is that you let me fight so that I can regain my fallen honor."

Stryker said, "Tell me what you know."

Next time, on Mortal Kombat: Rebirth

The Lin Keui are a evil clan, and their grandmaster, Bi-Han, aka Sub-Zero, is just as ruthless.

A/N: As you can see, I probably suck at fights. However, I want this one to be brutal, and hopefully I fulfilled that for yall. That's right, I spoke like a Southerner, when I am from the cold, barren wasteland of Minnesota. I know nothing about Southern culture, I just wanted to be funny. I realize that I have failed.

Also, Sub-Zero is going to be an antagonist. That's how he was built up as in Rebirth, that's how he's going to be in this fanfic. And don't worry, he will have ice powers. I never said this wouldn't have at least some special powers.

Spino, out.

PS: It's cold in Minnesota.