The wraiths of shadow and flame were merciless in kombat, each able to match their divine opponents in strength and skill. And although each subjugated soul fought with intensity and unbridled hatred, there was a soullessness to the conflict.
Raiden knew of Hanzo Hasashi's fall into despair, and even through his charred spirit, the thunder god could always feel the spark of sincerity that cried out for his lost family and clan. But now, there was something else. An apathy that pulled Raiden's attentions from the Scorpion, to its master.
As the four warriors struggled in kombat, the sorcerer Quan Chi had not sought to capitalize on a weakness, nor attend to some nefarious spell. He simply looked on as an observer, and seemed to be in communication with an unseen force, deliberately obscuring his thoughts from Raiden's divine intuitions. This was no true contest, but a ruse… a farce!
"GET OVER HERE!"
In Raiden's brief distraction, the flame wraith's chained kunai struck, slicing through leather and silk, burying deep before the chain was pulled taut, and the god of thunder's mortal body met with a brutal upper cut that cracked bone and split flesh. Before his body struck the ground, the Scorpion's katana supped deeply of the god's blood, threaded straight through his ribs to jut it's gleaming edge a full hand's breadth out from Raiden's back.
Fujin's incredible agility was tested to its absolute limit as the thing that once called itself Bi Han slipped in and out of reality from the ever shifting shadows that spilled from it. As one of the feints proved effective in drawing the wind god's attention, Saibot's sickle found purchase in god-flesh, and rent Fujin's sword arm between the lateral bones. Only a masterfully executed volley from the wind god's cross bow prevented his forearm's complete removal.
The battle turning in his favor, Quan Chi's expression shifted from its usual neutral curiosity to the barest smile, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He had been sent to ensure the guardian of Earthrealm was well distracted, and conveyed the success of his mission through silent prayer to his Lord. While Wind and Thunder suffered at the hands of their past failures, the greater prize was left unguarded.
The massive semi-circular stone doors of the Jinsei chamber seemed to weigh nothing as they rocked and settled from the force of the impact. Y/N's heart hammered in her chest as she thought she saw twisted bodies and shapes of mortal injury and gore revealed in the settling dust of the pulverized stone. They were whispered suggestively in the entryway silhouette, and their reality could not be denied with the intensifying smell of fresh blood.
A foreboding red mist, nearly knee-high, flowed along the walls and rolled along the floor towards Y/N. She breathed deeply, as if to fill her lungs with air that was still clean and pure before this taint reached her. Frozen before this advancing horror, the mist came within inches of where she stood, and she felt herself gasp in surprised relief as it seemed to shy and cease its advance, avoiding her person like a wave split by a berm.
Y/N stared in disbelief, such that she did not notice a being begin to manifest from the acrid mists before her, until his presence was undeniable. He was a tall figure clad in bronze armor with green gemstones and netted black and red leather and silk. Sturdy weaves of fabric bedecked with fine thread patterns suggested reverence and depth of presence. This garb was not unlike that worn by Lord Raiden in its finery and detail, yet the shapes were jagged and cruel, telling stories of ruin and destruction. Fastened at its chest was the very amulet she'd been driven through cavernous abyss and endless traps to lay hands upon. Seeing its bronze glint again sent a chill down her spine, and she wondered if this man was similarly a puppet pulled by unseen strings.
Though dressed in lordly attire, even bearing a twisted crown made of bloody sinew and devilish horn, this figure seemed a cadaver. A man whose flesh betrayed the pallor of a body devoid of the vitality of life. His arms were crossed over his chest in proper burial fashion, completing the appearance of a dead body out of place, which only served to deepen the shock as its eyes peeled open.
Y/N's heart nearly leapt from her chest, and she didn't have the ability to shriek. Only now did she realize she'd been frozen to the spot, not daring draw breath until that moment. This thing's clouded, white eyes did not rake in hurried patterns, nor did they appraise. In fact, it seemed he was staring right through her.
The warding that had protected the Jinsei chamber's entrance had required a bit of forceful finesse from the fallen Elder God. Rending the spells apart had similarly rent his physical body, vaporizing it with the destruction of all that had maintained the magical seals. Thanks to his amulet, he was quickly reconstituted, and seeing only one last surviving monk standing frozen in fear before him, Shinnok unfolded his arms from their crossed position and flung the mortal aside with a savage back-hand. The Jinsei was now his to defile, and he approached it with reverent elation.
Y/N hadn't expected the sudden brutality, and with the hollow crack of flesh striking flesh, the world went white.
She felt hot. Y/N fought to suck in a steadying breath, ears ringing and eyes shaking as they slowly began to knit colors together in a coherent image once more. She was on the ground, and couldn't remember why. As her mind placed thoughts back into their proper order, she felt the delayed flash of pain in her head, ears, and jaw, all burning. She was seeing double as she looked up to see the rotted hand of the animated corpse reach out to pierce the swirling sphere of blue that had comforted her just moments prior. Ice dropped into her stomach at the sight.
The red mist that suffused the chamber drew up and flowed along Shinnok's body, twisting into sharp, serpentine protrusions. Foul aberrations intent on polluting the gently swirling sphere. Y/N knew it must not come to pass, and as if by decree, the tendrils of red slipped and writhed about the creature's arm, unable to enter the Jinsei. Shinnok frowned thoughtfully, and drove a second arm into the sphere of energies, but nothing would take, and it remained pulsing a clear, clean blue.
The atmosphere surrounding this creature felt familiar, similar to when she was danced about the Temple of Elements as a passenger in her own body. Was this the work of the deceptive sorcerer from Nara? Was it for this purpose she had been swept up in such strange circumstance? There was no coherence, only intimations, as Y/N focused everything on thoughts of resilience. Her head throbbed through the silent affirmations, and she suddenly became aware of the taste of copper. A brief touch to her lips revealed that this corpse's assault had not only split them, but had wrought havoc upon her vestibular equilibrium, as the very motion of looking down caused her to swoon, bracing herself upon the ground.
Slowly, the imposing figure of Shinnok withdrew himself from the Jinsei and regained his composure, turning with a wizened curiosity to where Y/N was sprawled.
Brash, heedless, and arrogant; Shao Kahn's invasion following Earthrealm's victory in Mortal Kombat had failed miserably. But as Shinnok's disembodied spirit successfully encouraged Shao Kahn's defiance against the rules of Mortal Kombat, this development had procured an unseen advantage. Enjoying their success at preventing the invasion, Earthrealm's Champions were scattered to their respective former lives, completely unprepared for a sudden assault.
Shinnok had thus directed Quan Chi to split his armies of demonic oni and sack the major population centers of the realm in chaotic, widespread attacks. As a capstone, the demon sorcerer himself would draw the Champions that were able to rally into that which they seemed to be unable to resist: Kombat with a worthy adversary, at the opposite side of the globe.
The fallen Elder God only had one goal: Defiling the Jinsei and merging the poisoned Earthrealm with Outworld. With Raiden crippled, the Elder Gods would be powerless, and their destruction - the final pull to unravel the fabric of this reality.
Raiden understood more sincerely than any other just how precarious the Elder God's stations were. But even he was blind to oblivion lurking in the thin frequencies that separated realm from realm. All was so closely linked, The One Being's influence had never truly disappeared, it simply became manifest in smaller and smaller cycles. Indeed it was for this reason all life was drawn inexorably towards death, and this was the undeniable truth which Shinnok intended to impose unto existence.
As the fallen Elder God had reaped the bodies of Raiden's faithful with blade and brutality outside of the Jinsei chamber's doors, he reveled in their fatal baptism, but had noted with disappointment that their souls had, inexplicably, not joined the legions of his loyal followers. Similarly, the Jinsei itself had proved improbably resilient to his influence, rebuking his gospel of death with vitality and light.
Raiden's presence nowhere to be felt, Shinnok could not fathom why his endeavor was plagued with such misfortune. And so it was that the Mad God's mirthless eyes fell upon Y/N as the only variable left to consider.
This frail, seemingly insignificant monk's presence had become a vexation completely unexpected to the Mad God. Thus, motioning with one arm, Shinnok conjured a massive skeletal hand from the ground that snatched and restrained the mortal with a deadly swiftness. But just as Shinnok intended to crush the life from this last surviving monk, his skeletal apparition dissolved, rebuked by the monk's mere presence.
Shinnok's expression tightened from indifference to frustration as he muttered to himself, "What in all the realms…"
Y/N's breath had caught in her throat, cutting off her cry from the sudden constriction, and now her heart hammered in her chest as she staggered off balance and steadied herself with one hand against the chamber walls. Y/N reasoned that whatever was controlling this thing could not be allowed to succeed. Whoever it was, he would be doomed to fail. It was the sincerity of those thoughts alone that kept her cognizant, and that belief conjured a statement that surprised even her.
"You'll find no prize here…"
This declaration struck a nerve with the fallen Elder God. And in sudden recognition, he felt a jolt of indignant offense: This was no Sky Temple monk… It was a woman! A foreigner, by the sound of it, far removed from her proper place.
The idea that a lost tourist had been the thorn to stop a lion's charge incensed him. And now he noticed the ill-fit of her samue, disheveled hair, and fair skin compared to the proper Sky Temple warriors and denizens he had cut down. What she was doing in Sky Temple was beyond him. Frowning, Shinnok now stalked with deadly intent toward her. He regarded Y/N with a mix of contempt and genuine curiosity.
"Quite presumptuous, my dear. Pray tell, whom precisely do you serve?"
Y/N blinked hard at the inquiry. The corpse's voice had surprised her, having not even realized it capable of speaking until that moment. Now as the shock of his earlier assault finally wore down, she felt the adrenaline subside into a cold sobriety: This was not some dead husk being animated, but a thinking being. And as that realization settled upon her, it caused her conviction to waver for the barest moment, fear crossing her features for the first time.
This brought a slow smile to Shinnok's expression as he probed further, "Clearly you are not of the Order of Light as your rags would suggest..."
Words dried up, and the fire in her chest seemed dampened with the advance of this monster now exhibiting eloquence and razor-like scrutiny. Y/N no longer knew what to make of the thing looming before her. This regal corpse that seemed to be staring directly through her very being with an amused sneer.
"Tell me, child... Do you fear death?"
