"Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you."
— Friedrich Nietzsche
Prologue
Everything happened so slowly yet quickly. The urgency of battle, hurrying toward the Sky Temple, the rush of emotions. The agony of Shinnok's giant skeletal hand crushing his physical form, the magic preventing him from using his powers to free himself. The determination and pain and fear as he hurried to cleanse the Jinsei. Blood and power pouring out of him as he focused all he could on the task that determined the fate of Earthrealm.
He felt empty afterwards. No pain, no emotion, no exhaustion, barely any life-force. But he was not completely empty. His soul hung by a thread. Earthrealm needed his protection, he was the only one who could really protect it and even he struggled greatly under the weight on his shoulders. No one else could be completely trusted with these responsibilities.
The fighting would never end, the anguish would never ease, the burden would never loosen. An eternal war, random and savage on all sides except his side, the one in the middle that suffered the most. Earthrealm humans liked to discuss the cruelty, insanity, and savagery of their kind, but Outworld and Netherrealm were made of those things. Even other realms that were less involved in the conflicts were supremely dark. What few realms dared defy that rule were doomed, Edenia and Zaterra both prime examples of that. Some tried to balance the light and darkness, but it failed, Vaeternus a prime example of that. Earthrealm was an exception to those cruel rules...or was it? Hanging by a thread, like himself. No, he was the thread, an immortal one that could never be cut, his survival of the Jinsei was proof of that, he became stronger with each test, and the Jinsei was the ultimate test.
Yes, he always survived, he always grew stronger. Miracles? Luck? Hah! He was a god! He created miracles and the concept of luck, he was a miracle. Gods and miracles were invincible, perfect.
But was he truly perfect? He had failed many times before finally succeeding in each great goal. Why was that? He had tried his best with what he was given...but what had he been given and by whom? A vague message from his future self alongside random visions that he struggled to comprehend, an amulet forged by the Elder Gods. His past self seemed to have made numerous mistakes, the Elder Gods ignored the warnings provided by their very own amulet. He had been given practically nothing by those that understood practically nothing themselves. He supposed he should thank his would-have-been future self for having some intelligence in his final moments, since he too had to deal with incompetence/disinterest from the Elder Gods, forced to accomplish things on his own. Mortals still required his guidance for success and if his successes were minor, then theirs were further doomed.
No true hope, just everlasting conflict and empty victories. No peace, no rest. Just darkness, tears, anger, paranoia. Mortals like the Cage family pretended to be strong only to repeatedly crack under the pressure, and even other gods such as Fujin could not handle this. He was the lone thread, the sole shield, the one true protector.
Protector, not savior. Saviors ended conflicts, prevented further suffering. Protectors merely delayed the inevitable.
...the inevitable? Could Earthrealm survive for eternity? Could he and by extension Earthrealm last forever in their current states? Always in the middle, always the victim...and why? Because some tyrant wanted revenge for an imagined slight? Shao Kahn's obsession with Earthrealm for centuries, Shinnok's millennia-long plots, Kotal Kahn's laughable ideas of honor. All these beasts, along with other smaller threats, combined into one large problem.
Earthrealm did nothing to deserve this! Mercy unreturned, forgiveness rejected, betrayal from everywhere. And they endured, never fighting back hard enough to prevent this from reoccurring, and never ready for the next strike. Always on the receiving end, always waiting for the first attack but hardly returning the blows. Weak, pathetic, too kind for its own good to those unworthy of it.
Perhaps Earthrealm did deserve this, these harsh agonizing lessons, perhaps they needed to be punished until they learned to stand up and return fire, to stop someone from firing at them in the first place. Then they could stop being victims. It would be a hard transition for the mortals; he thought he might struggle to change as well but he found himself liking the idea.
Though the visions were long gone, he understood that the potential future he had avoided involved him embracing a darker mindset and deliberately hurting his allies and even making deals with Shao Kahn, only to somewhat regain his senses at the last moment. He had been unnerved by this, glad to have avoided the darkness, but now he welcomed the idea, now that he had better knowledge and experience to handle things correctly. He would do better, be smarter, like he always intended. No matter how long it took, no matter the energy required, he would do what he must and Earthrealm would be safe.
A ghost of a smile touched his lips as he admired the dark amulet in his hand. A mere mortal could not handle its power sans injury and even eventual death; only a god, or a powerful magik wielder close to that of a god could successfully wield it. Havik's blood magik had granted the cleric that advantage in using it, and there were a select few whom Shinnok trusted to wield his amulet. But truly, the only ones perfectly capable of handling this half-divine, half-hellish weapon were its creator Shinnok and...himself, and the latter was thanks to the creator's magik being absorbed into him when he removed it from the Jinsei.
"I never realized how lovely this is," he casually remarked, running his thumb over the surface of the amulet.
No verbal response came, unless one counted a strangled groan, and not the first one that had been uttered for the last hour. Were the groaner a mortal, he would not be able to make any sound at all, or even still exist, but such was the blessing (and curse) of being an Elder God, albeit a fallen one.
With a chuckle, he attached the amulet to his chest-plate and approached his 'guest'. The eyes of his guest widened and the groaning grew louder, resembling an attempt at pleading. Considering the amount of cries for mercy his guest had uttered right up until the decapitation, it was very likely that the fear of worse torture prompted him to restart pleading.
Electricity crackled in his palms and another chuckle escaped him the closer he got to his victim."No need to be afraid," he said, mock-soothingly."There is not much worse I can do to you." He tilted his head, lips twisting into a grin. He picked up the head, whose pleas were more urgent than ever, and his grin widened as he added,"Or perhaps there is?"
His thumbs moved toward the eyes, causing the head to whimper in protest. He pursed his lips and slowly shook his head. Tempting as inducing blindness was, it was better to let this fool watch every second of his miserable eternal existence. Or he could blind him later, and/or rip off his ears. For now, this was best.
He held the head close to his face."How does it feel to be the helpless one?" he half-hissed, half-growled. The Earthrealm protector understood helplessness better than any other god, and he was tired of that feeling and determined to eliminate it, both for his and Earthrealm's sakes.
His nails dug into the sides of his victim's head and evoked more desperate, pleading and pained sounds.
"I should thank you," he whispered in the same manner he was accustomed to hearing the fallen Elder God use to taunt his victims and opponents."You helped make me stronger, wiser, you have helped me to truly do what is necessary to save Earthrealm, and to enjoy rather than feel resigned to my duty."
He raked his electrified fingernails down the sides of the head, and he could not (and did not want to) stifle a laugh in response to the bloodcurdling scream his victim let out. What a pleasant surprise, the disembodied head could do something other than groan and whimper!
Grinning from ear to ear, he sent a burst of electricity into the fresh scratches and evoked another scream, which in turn invoked another laugh from the Earthrealm god. He continued to laugh as he slammed the head atop a table and gave it a mocking pat on the forehead. Then he glanced at an object on the table that lay next to the head, an unexplainable yet familiar feeling having urged him to look at the object.
Another amulet, one he hadn't used in years since the visions stopped. No visions came, but...a single crack was now appearing on its surface. Carefully, he picked it up and frowned. The future was in danger once more.
Why? How? He had eliminated the threat, Shinnok was helpless, Shao Kahn was dead, he was making plans to punish Kotal Kahn, and all other threats were either dealt with or would soon be taken care of. Yet the cracks...
No. He scowled and slammed his fist into the table, prompting a terrified cry from the head. No more dependence on inept Elder Gods and their useless tools which they themselves never heeded.
He glanced at the head."I will be right back, do not go anywhere," he said in a sickly sweet tone, then raised his arm to teleport. He reappeared outside, at the top of the stairs that led to his Sky Temple, and he flew up into the air while clutching the amulet in his fist. In his other hand he retrieved Shinnok's amulet and took a moment to further examine both amulets. He glowered at the cracked talisman, then reattached Shinnok's amulet to his chest-plate whilst smiling and muttering,"This is all I need."
He extended the arm that held the cracked amulet and unclenched his fist, wishing he could see the talisman break into a million pieces from this distance and height.
He was Raiden, God of Thunder, Protector and Savior of Earthrealm, and the future was what he made of it.
Author's Note: Hello, everyone! If you are a returning reader from my first version of the this story, welcome back. If you are new, glad to have a new reader along for the ride. Just to make a few things clear, this is set after Mortal Kombat X and the only aspect of Mortal Kombat 11 that will be in this story is Kollector and not for awhile. No Kronika, Geras, or Cetrion, as I started the original story just a few weeks after Mortal Kombat X came out. Kollector is only gonna be included because I needed an evil minion character and was originally gonna use an OC of mine, but I figured I was better off using a canon character that fit the bill just fine on his own.
All of that being said, welcome to the story and please remember to review, leave constructive criticism, but no flames!