A/N: A second upload to make up for the year I had where I didn't write any of this, as a thank you to you guys for sticking with it. :) Mostly inner monologue. I am aware that Raiden will likely be OOC here, and I apologise for that. I haven't seen him in many situations like this, so I am going on how I think he would think/react to it. Will get quite dark here at times.
Turn, Turn...
An almost jet black sky greeted Raiden's new guests when they arrived at his home. The man's mood had taken a turn upon hearing his charge had been kidnapped.
Once he saw splatters of blood on the floor, a roar of thunder erupted from out of nowhere, temporarily lighting up the sky, giving it a white hue.
Tiama, though distraught knew she needed to assist Johnny and Sonya, heal their battered, sore bodies. She instructed Sonya to use the onsen, once some fractured bones had healed. Johnny was lying on the couch, whilst Jakal was cleaning the blood oozing from a wound on his lower stomach with a cotton pad. The younger man was doing well, even when a stinging alcohol wipe was applied to the wound, before it was bandaged.
He'd failed again. Fallen at every hurdle. Everything presented to him he should have conquered, easily jumped over. But, he didn't. He couldn't. He was one man. The 'God' status meant nothing. He wasn't a mere man no, but his status currently meant nothing. Mortals were stronger than him, in both will and mind.
A swift wind, a cold core within making the hairs on his arms stand one end alerted him to the presence of his dear friend Fujin. The man had come to try and cheer him up no doubt. No easy feat anymore...
Raiden didn't wish to talk, there wasn't anything he could say to lessen the blow, to his own pride, or to whittle away at the sadness in his heart. Several warriors were cut down, in the blink of an eye, and at the same time, the woman he was supposed to protect had been taken away, to face the wrath of both Emperor and sorcerers.
His nature became sporadic, tumultuous, he no longer felt like a guardian of Earthrealm. A guardian should serve, protect the people around him. He gave his word that he would. And now, as he stood on the balcony of his bedroom, he faced the bitter truth.
His word meant nothing. Zilch.
Fujin stood stoic beside him, a pillar of virtue, friendship. Anything the man could do to ease the burden, the gravity of protecting people, he would.
However, when he insisted on joining the fight, the wind God was rebuffed almost harshly by his elder deity. Raiden did not see him joining the fray and so kept him out of it.
Fujin had decided enough was enough. He would assist the fight whether his friend liked it or not.
Raiden's silence was heavy, poignant. The great weight upon him had crushed him, almost devouring his will to stay and fight entirely. His will was growing ever increasingly fragile, and could crumble at a moments notice.
Like the cracks in his amulet, the cracks in him were beginning to show. The man had been beaten, not only in body, but in spirit, mind.
He felt little more than a liar. A fool, a weather beaten wreck.
This change lasted hours. Hours turned into days. Raiden lost the ability to convince everyone he was fine. The words, the lie he had spoken many times...the words formed on his tongue, but would not come out. He remained quiet, in solitude, his very ipseity strung out, torn.
Fujin remained by his side, and discussed plans with the remaining warriors. He would assist in rescuing Kara. Mentioning her name drew some interest from Raiden, who stayed in the kitchenette, an unmovable statue. Powerful, but useless all the same.
The young God observed subtle (if you did not know him very well, you wouldn't see these) changes in his older friend's expression, his mindset. Occasionally he did not look so glum. Talk of the deaths and subsequent kidnapping created a foul shift. The weather mirrored his emotions.
If he were calm and at peace, the sky would be clear, cloudless, or a few fluffy white clouds would be scattered about there.
If he were irritated, indigo would blot the sky, like freshly spilled ink on parchment.
When angered? That indigo would engulf the entire page, the sky, and lightning would crackle, booms of thunder accompanying them. Anyone facing his wrath would be sorely sorry they had enraged the Elder God. They'd be scorched, burned, their skin charred until they were mere threads from death.
But Raiden would not snap the threads. No. He was no killer. He had mercy, even for people who had done much damage to him, or the people he cared for, the people he saw as family.
When Liu Kang was killed and then Kung Lao, that broke the man, for a short time. It had to be short. He had not the time to allow himself to break. He had to pick up the pieces of his broken soul, glue them together, and hope they stuck fast.
The most recent loss was making those pieces come unstuck however, and it was happening right in front of the wind God's eyes.
Fujin knew if he was feeling the pressure of reclaiming the souls from Shang's clutches, and rescuing Kara, then Raiden was feeling it too, tenfold...
Ten days later, after a constant and consistent recovery and training sessions, Johnny, Jakal and Sonya were ready. All they needed was a distraction, a way, to get both sorcerers away from the Emperor. The plan was Johnny would kill him, Jakal would kill Shang, and Sonya would kill Quan. Raiden and Fujin would be there as backup, in case something went awry. The likelihood of that was more than they would have liked, but at least they had a plan, a foundation to be built upon.
If everything went to plan, if they were successful, the souls Shang had taken would be released. Perhaps, with Tiama's help, they could reunite the souls with their bodies, and bring back the kombatants? That was a possibility. Sonya was devastated at losing Jax, and the others knew she wanted to what she could to bring him back. Watching Sindel strike her own child down, that sight kept popping back up in Jakal's mind, rending him mad with sorrow. More than a few times, his wife would have to drag him out of his pit, the utter despair he felt at potentially losing his daughter was huge. The pit seemingly never ending, an infinite jet black void. There'd be no light to sooth, act like a balm as he fell down and down, deeper and deeper into the abyss.
Tiama herself was managing to keep it together, though not much better than her husband. She, too would have times of hopelessness, constant worry gnawed at her gut, giving her nausea, lasting for hours at a time. Her appetite waned, she lost some weight, and slept much longer than was healthy. She only washed because she knew it was necessary and hygienic. She cleaned herself, became obsessed with it, convincing herself that she wasn't clean, that she'd never truly be clean ever again. Kara being taken was caused a toll on their sanity, which, in-turn created a rift between friends.
If they couldn't keep harmonious with one another, how could they ever work together? It wasn't just Kara's life on the line now. Much was at stake here, too much at play to be bickering over trivialities.
All the while, Raiden heard this plan, mulled over it. It was flawed, though he had thought up no better. He couldn't offer an input worthy of listening too. He had but one thought, a dire one. If another chink appeared in his amulet, he would know they were doomed to failure. They would be walking to their certain death.
And, he wouldn't stop them. If they wished to die, he would not intervene. He bristled. When had he become cynical? Pessimistic? Borderline intolerant of other people's opinions, thoughts.
Some time ago, in his long life, his many years in the Heavens, and on Earthrealm, after training, guiding and observing the fall of hundreds of warriors, on either side of the coin, he had grown weary, more and more he found himself doubting. Every little thing he questioned now. He felt he had no option but to feel skeptical, and, perhaps, a little contempt?
For the warriors over many a year? No.
For himself? Yes. And the contempt grew ever so slowly, until it crept up on him, and snatched away his will, his vim, his want to battle on until the bitter end.
Reigning in his emotions hadn't done him any good. It served to hinder him, pull and twist his insides, chip away at his psyche. The chaos outside, thunderous and violent didn't phase him. What phased him after he walked into the bathroom, and looked into the mirror on the cabinet above the sink. His eyes. They were red, fresh blood red. The cause was a convulsion, a disturbance. A flash of blinding yellow light made his head spin as he was thrown into a vision.
What he would see?...
Afterwards, Raiden lay on his bed. He hadn't informed anyone of his vision. It was a warning, a precursor to something twisted. His skin was pale, he was perspiring heavily. His pulse would not slow. He decided he would keep this to himself, whether that was a stupid move or not.
Tomorrow, the five would head out to Outworld, and fight for their lived, for the the safety of Outworld, Earthrealm, Edenia and all three realms citizens. None of them would know just how much sacrifice had and would go into keeping them safe.
A sigh turned into a yawn. It was late, and he sorely needed rest...
Turn, turn, the weather turned.
Dark, brooding.
He sat, head in his hands
Forever wondering where he went wrong...