Smoke and Sub-Zero.

“This is a mistake, Sub-Zero.”

Smoke's voice was barely louder than the wind that drifted through the palace courtyard, yet the warning carried enough weight to make Sub-Zero pause. His grey eyes never rested in one place, studying the towering walls, the battlements above, the disciplined patrol routes of the imperial guards. Every shadow was measured. Every window was another possible archer's perch. Every soldier was another potential enemy.

Kuai Liang unfolded the letter once more, his gloved thumb brushing over the emperor's seal before folding it shut again. A slow stream of icy breath escaped behind his mask.

"Perhaps," he admitted. "But if what Fenrir Kahn has written is true... then we owe him the courtesy of listening."
Smoke turned toward him. "We barely escaped Sektor after the tournament. We survived because Raiden intervened when fate itself had already decided otherwise." His eyes narrowed toward the massive gates. "And now we're willingly walking into another emperor's palace. If this is a trap, there won't be another thunder god waiting to save us."

"Indeed," Kuai Liang answered calmly. "There may not."

Silence settled between them. Neither man needed to say what both already understood. If Fenrir had betrayed them...They would fight.

And they would likely die.

The two former Lin Kuei assassins waited before the entrance with the discipline only decades of training could forge. Tomas Vrbada, the warrior known throughout the realms as Smoke, and Kuai Liang, the man who had inherited the mantle of Sub-Zero after his brother's death, remained perfectly still despite the tension tightening every muscle beneath their clothed armour.

Their reputation, as two of the deadliest Lin Kuei warriors, had once inspired fear across every realm. Now...They were hunted. Not by their enemies. But by their former brothers in arms.

Ever since the new grandmaster Sektor had forced the Cyber Initiative upon the Lin Kuei, flesh had become weakness and obedience had replaced honour. Every surviving human member was either converted... or marked for conversion.
Kuai Liang had narrowly escaped that fate only months ago back at the tournament in Outworld. His thoughts wandered back to that day. The operating chamber. The restraints. The cold metal instruments waiting to strip away his humanity piece by piece.

Then the explosion.

Sonya Blade and Fenrir Blackmore. A desperate escape bought by warriors who had owed him absolutely nothing. He still remembered Fenrir cutting through the cyber-Lin Kuei warriors without hesitation, risking his own life to free a man he barely knew.

It was not an act Kuai Liang had forgotten. Nor one he could ever truly repay.

Their home, the Lin Kuei temple, had once echoed with discipline, meditation and the sound of steel against steel. Now...Only machinery lived there. The halls where lost children learned to fight had become factories where souls were erased. Every memory of home had been buried beneath gears, wires and cold steel.

One day...Sektor would answer for that.

Perhaps today was where that path truly began. Fenrir Blackmore intrigued him more than he cared to admit. The man had been an Earthrealmer warrior under Lord Raiden's orders during the tournament. Now he sat upon the throne of Outworld, no longer as a warrior, but as emperor.

People changed when crowns were placed upon their heads. Power had corrupted better men throughout history. Perhaps the emperor had already reached an agreement with Sektor. Perhaps this letter was merely bait.

Yet debt was debt.

If Fenrir had once risked everything for him...Then Kuai Liang owed him at least this meeting. "We also shouldn't forget what Raiden's champions did for us," Kuai Liang finally said, his voice steady and measured. "Without them..."

Smoke looked away. "I haven't forgotten." His answer came immediately. "I never will." He rubbed the scar hidden beneath his sleeve almost unconsciously. "If Raiden hadn't found me in the Dead Woods..." His expression darkened. "I'd already be another machine wearing my own face." A long pause followed. "But Fenrir isn't Lord Raiden." His eyes returned to the palace. "We don't know him."

Kuai Liang remained thoughtful. "He's from Earthrealm."

Smoke let out a quiet, humourless chuckle. "So are we." Those three words landed heavier than either expected. "We watched the Cyber Initiative happen beneath our own roof." His voice carried neither anger nor accusation anymore, only regret. "Being born in Earthrealm doesn't make someone honourable."

"No." Kuai Liang nodded slowly. "It doesn't."

The massive palace doors groaned open before either man could continue. Both instinctively shifted their weight, prepared. Rows of imperial guards emerged with remarkable discipline, spreading outward until the two Lin Kuei found themselves surrounded in a wide semicircle. Their formation was careful rather than provocative. Spears remained lowered but prepared. Every angle of escape was quietly covered. Professional, well-trained.

Kuai Liang noticed it immediately.

Whoever had reorganised these guards understood battlefield positioning. Smoke subtly lowered one foot into a defensive stance. "If things go wrong..."

"We leave together," Kuai Liang answered without looking at him. "As always."

From between the soldiers, two familiar figures approached. One walked with the relaxed swagger of someone who believed bullets solved most disagreements. The other carried herself with silent confidence, each measured step radiating restrained lethality.

Erron Black tipped his hat. "Howdy." His grin spread lazily. "Looks like y'all rode yourselves straight into quite the predicament."

Skarlet sighed quietly beside him. "You always have to start with that?"

"What?" Erron shrugged. "I'm bein' hospitable."

Smoke folded his arms. "So this is how the new emperor welcomes guests?" His tone dripped with sarcasm. "By hiring Black Dragon mercenaries?"

Erron barked a laugh. "Oh, that's rich." He looked Smoke up and down. "Lemme refresh my memory." He scratched thoughtfully beneath his hat. "Weren't the Lin Kuei fightin' for Outworld in the last two tournaments?" He smiled wider. "Seems like somebody was cashin' Shao Kahn's checks just fine."

Smoke stepped forward immediately. "We served because the Grandmaster commanded it." His voice sharpened. "We never betrayed Earthrealm by choice."

"Didn't stop it from happenin', though." Erron's smile never disappeared. "And if my memory's right..." he nodded toward Kuai Liang, "...there used to be another cryomancer wearin' that uniform."

The air grew noticeably colder. Kuai Liang's blue eyes locked onto Erron's. The mention of Bi-Han was enough. "Watch your tongue." His voice was calm. Far too calm and cold.

The temperature around them visibly dropped. Tiny crystals of frost formed across the stone beneath his boots. Several nearby guards instinctively tightened their grip on their spears.

Erron's hand drifted halfway toward his revolver. Not enough to draw. Enough to show he understood the danger.

Before another word could be exchanged, Skarlet stepped between them. She didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to. "Apologies, Sub-Zero." Her crimson eyes met Kuai Liang's directly. "My companion often mistakes provocation for diplomacy."

Erron frowned. "I do not."

Without even looking at him, Skarlet spoke. "You are proving my point."

The cowboy wisely decided silence was healthier.

She finally turned her head just enough to give him a single look. One cold glance. One that reminded him exactly why she remained one of the emperor's most trusted warriors. Even immortality did little to comfort a man when Skarlet looked at him like prey.

Erron raised both hands. "Fine." He took two casual steps backwards. "I'll behave."

Smoke couldn't help raising an eyebrow. Interesting. Apparently even the infamous gunslinger knew where the line was.
Kuai Liang slowly allowed the frost around his feet to melt away. He inclined his head respectfully. "Apology accepted."

Skarlet returned the gesture with equal respect. "If you would follow me." She turned elegantly toward the palace entrance. "The emperor has been expecting you." Her heels clicked rhythmically against polished stone as she walked, confident. Measured. Never hurried. Never careless.

The guards immediately shifted formation around them without needing a single spoken order.

Smoke exchanged one final glance with Kuai Liang. No words were needed.

Remain alert.

Trust nothing.

Observe everything.

Kuai Liang answered with the smallest nod. Then together, the last two human Lin Kuei crossed the threshold into the palace of Outworld's new emperor.

The two Lin Kuei warriors followed Skarlet through the vast corridors of the imperial palace in complete silence. Silent as the night. Deadly as the dawn. A creed that had guided the Lin Kuei for generations, and one that neither Kuai Liang nor Tomas had ever abandoned, despite everything that had happened to their clan.

Their footsteps echoed softly against polished black stone while Skarlet's heels clicked rhythmically ahead of them. The formation surrounding them never broke. Imperial guards marched alongside them with measured discipline, while several more remained behind, subtly denying every possible escape route. Erron Black brought up the rear, his hands resting lazily on his gun belt as if he were merely escorting honoured guests rather than two of the deadliest assassins in the realms.

"They're good," Smoke whispered without moving his lips.

"They are," Kuai Liang replied just as quietly. "Disciplined." His narrow back at him for a short second. "Be wary."
That alone distinguished them from the armies Shao Kahn had once commanded. Smoke's eyes wandered across the palace walls, studying every detail with the instinct of an infiltrator.

"Did you notice?" he murmured. "They're no longer wearing Shao Kahn's armour."

Kuai Liang gave a nearly imperceptible nod. "Nor are his banners hanging."

Indeed, almost everything within the palace had changed during the months since Fenrir's ascension.

Gone were the crimson standards bearing Shao Kahn's skull insignia. The intimidating trophies of conquered realms had disappeared as well, no longer decorating every hallway as reminders of domination. In their place stood decors from all across the realm and banners of black, crimson and gold, woven with craftsmanship worthy of Edenia itself.

The palace still possessed the imposing grandeur expected of Outworld's stronghold, yet its atmosphere had subtly shifted. It no longer glorified conquest alone.

It spoke of rebuilding.

Much of that transformation had fallen upon the shoulders of the newly appointed Marshal of the Imperial Guard, Carkas.
The old guard had been purged almost entirely. Loyalty to Shao Kahn had become secondary to loyalty toward Outworld itself. Tarkatans stood shoulder to shoulder with Osh-Tekk warriors, Shokan veterans, Edenians and countless other races that once would never have trusted one another beneath the same banner. Skill, discipline and loyalty now outweighed bloodline or species.

It had been one of the most difficult undertakings since the civil war began.

Reiko's influence had spread deep throughout the military ranks before openly declaring his rebellion. Entire regiments had defected overnight, while others concealed sympathisers within their own ranks. Every officer had required investigation. Every soldier had to prove where their loyalty truly belonged.

Carkas had approached the task with ruthless efficiency. Those unwilling to serve the Empire were dismissed. Those plotting against it were judged. Those who remained became something entirely new.

Training became relentless. Patrols doubled. Rotations were randomised daily to prevent infiltration. Every guard drilled not only with his own unit but alongside every other race serving the crown until cooperation became instinct rather than obligation.

Even the palace itself reflected that philosophy. Nothing was left to chance.

Smoke quietly observed the soldiers as they passed. "They move like they've fought together for years."

"They probably haven't," Kuai Liang answered. "Which makes it more impressive."

Smoke silently agreed.

The five greatest among them had earned an even greater distinction.

The Throne Guard.

Chosen personally by Carkas and approved by Barong himself, they answered to no general, noble or minister. Only the Marshal and the emperor could command them.

Their duty was singular.

Protect the Emperor and the Queens. Live for them. Die for them. No matter the cost.

Smoke noticed them standing motionless at key intersections throughout the palace. Each watched the visitors with the calm patience of warriors who had no intention of losing.

As they continued walking, Kuai Liang's attention shifted toward the armour itself. The craftsmanship was remarkable. The heavy brutality of Shao Kahn's legionnaires had vanished.

Instead, every soldier now wore dark plate armour forged for mobility rather than intimidation. Black steel formed its foundation, reinforced with crimson and gold engravings that caught the palace light without becoming ostentatious. It was lighter, more flexible and clearly designed by someone who understood combat instead of spectacle.

Smoke studied the wolf-shaped helmets as another patrol marched past. "Those are new."

The armour had been commissioned shortly after Fenrir's coronation. Working alongside Carkas, the legendary Outworld blacksmith Ranulf Ironhand had spent months redesigning every piece of imperial equipment from the ground up. Swords held finer balance. Spears were forged from superior alloys. Shields had become lighter without sacrificing durability.

Every improvement served one purpose. Survival and stability. The civil war demanded nothing less. Yet the greatest change had not been practical.

It had been symbolic.

For centuries, Shao Kahn's armies marched beneath helmets fashioned after their master helm, grim reminders that Shao Kahn ruled above all else.

Ranulf had rejected that philosophy entirely. Instead, every helmet now resembled the head of a dire wolf. Strong, alert and unyielding. When questioned about the design, the old blacksmith had answered with characteristic simplicity. "A lone wolf is strong, yes, yet it dies hungry. Now a pack...survives."

Fenrir had liked the answer. Kitana and Jade had loved it. The design soon expanded beyond armour. Every banner throughout the palace now carried Outworld's new standard. Twin dire wolves. One black. One white. Standing side by side beneath a full moon. They did not face one another as rivals. They howled together.

The wolves represented every people united beneath the Empire regardless of race or origin. The moon symbolised the future they all pursued together, a reminder to always raise their eyes beyond hatred and conquest toward something worth protecting. A nation.

Smoke found himself staring at one banner as they walked beneath it. "So the rumours really are true..."

Kuai Liang looked toward him. "The people of Outworld truly follow an Earthrealmer." His answer remained measured. "But it also means something else."

Smoke already knew. "There's a civil war in Outworld as we speak..."

Kuai Liang nodded. "If these reforms were necessary...then Reiko's rebellion is worse than we heard."

Smoke lowered his eyes. He had fought Outworld warriors countless times throughout his life. Yet the thought of an entire realm tearing itself apart unsettled him more than he expected. Countless innocents would already be caught between two armies. "You can't seriously mean Reiko has declared open war."

"You'd better believe it, Lin Kuei," Skarlet spoke without slowing her pace or looking back. "As we speak, villages swear loyalty to one banner or the other. Armies march every week. Fortresses change hands. Men and women alike are dying believing they're saving Outworld."

Her normally composed voice carried something unusual: weariness. She had witnessed it herself.

Smoke frowned. "And the Emperor?"

"He doesn't hide behind palace walls," Skarlet answered. "Neither he nor the queens."

Smoke looked at Kuai Liang before asking the question lingering in both their minds. "So the stories are true?" He raised his voice slightly. "Has the Emperor truly been leading the campaigns himself... alongside one of his queens?"

"They have." This time Erron answered. "Proudly, I might add." The cowboy grinned beneath his hat. "I've ridden with 'em." He hooked both thumbs into his belt. "Seen the whole thing firsthand."

Smoke glanced over his shoulder. Erron's expression, surprisingly, held no mockery. Only respect. "When the fighting starts," the gunslinger continued, "Fenrir ain't the type to bark orders from the rear. He's usually the one leading it and charging straight at the enemy."

Skarlet sighed. "He also has the unfortunate habit of making everyone else follow him."

Erron laughed. "Hard not to." He looked toward the two Lin Kuei. "People fight harder when the man wearin' the crown is bleedin' beside 'em instead of hidin' behind 'em."

Skarlet's lips curved into the faintest smile. "It is... difficult not to believe in him."

Those words caught both Lin Kuei by surprise.

Coming from Skarlet, once one of Shao Kahn's most feared and loyal servants, they carried enormous weight.

Kuai Liang remained silent for several moments. Then, beneath his mask, a small smile slowly appeared. Perhaps...Perhaps this emperor truly was unlike the one who had come before him.

The great doors of the throne room slowly parted, revealing the imperial court beyond. Only a few months earlier, those same doors had opened for Fenrir Blackmoreas he entered before Outworld's generals, an outsider standing beneath the shadow of Shao Kahn's throne.

Now everything had changed; the throne was no longer empty.

Fenrir sat upon it with quiet confidence, one arm resting against its carved stone while the other held the armrest loosely. He wore neither ceremonial armour nor extravagant robes, only the practical attire that had become synonymous with his reign. Around him stood members of the Throne Guard, motionless as statues. Carkas remained at his usual position beside the dais, while Barong watched from the shadows near one of the great pillars, saying nothing. Even without speaking, his presence reminded every visitor that very little escaped the emperor's gaze.

"I was beginning to wonder when you two would arrive," Fenrir greeted them as the Lin Kuei stepped into the chamber. His voice carried easily throughout the room. Calm. Welcoming. "Then again," he continued with a faint smile, "receiving a letter from the Emperor of Outworld is not exactly the sort of invitation that inspires confidence."

Kuai Liang exchanged a glance with Smoke. Neither had expected honesty. Certainly not sarcasm. Skarlet and Erron moved silently to either side of the hall after bowing respectfully toward the throne. Neither relaxed. Their attention never drifted far from the two visitors.

Sub-Zero stepped forward first, placing a fist over his chest before bowing his head. "Our apologies, Emperor." Smoke mirrored the gesture. "We have spent the last several months avoiding Sektor's hunting parties. Remaining in one place for too long tends to shorten our life expectancy." A faint smile appeared beneath his mask. "Frankly... it was a miracle your scout managed to find us." His eyes wandered briefly toward the dark corner where Barong stood. "I suppose that crow truly deserves its reputation."

A chuckle escaped Fenrir. "So I've been told." He glanced toward Barong. "I've learned not to question how he accomplishes these things."

Barong merely inclined his head ever so slightly.

Whether it was modesty or confirmation, neither Lin Kuei could tell.

Kuai Liang straightened. "If I may ask, Emperor... why have you summoned us?" His blue eyes subtly swept across the throne room once again. The spacing of every guard, the distance between each pillar and the possible exit or ambush points. Nothing appeared accidental.

Smoke was conducting the same assessment from the opposite angle. Whoever had organised the audience understood military psychology remarkably well. Enough guards to remind them they were vulnerable and just enough distance to avoid making the meeting feel like imprisonment.

A calculated balance between trust and authority.

Fenrir noticed both men studying the room. Good, his intuition was right about them. He slowly descended the stone steps leading from the throne, each measured footstep echoing throughout the chamber. "I believe," he said evenly, "you already know why I asked you here."

The warmth disappeared from his expression. His gaze hardened, not hostile. Solemly.

Smoke instinctively shifted his stance. Kuai Liang remained outwardly calm, but every muscle beneath his armour tightened. If negotiations failed...They would fight. Even if it meant dying here.

"Carkas," Fenrir called; the marshal immediately stepped forward.

One hand rested naturally upon the pommel of his sheathed sword. "Sub-Zero. Smoke." His greeting carried the respectful tone one warrior reserved for another.

Kuai Liang returned the nod. "Marshal."

Fenrir stopped only a few paces away from them. Then he asked the question that immediately changed the atmosphere inside the room. "What do you intend to do with Sektor?"

Silence followed; neither Lin Kuei had expected that. Smoke glanced toward Kuai Liang; the cryomancer never hesitated. "What must be done." His voice was as cold as winter itself. "He must die. And the Cyber Initiative with him."

Fenrir watched him carefully, then a faint smile appeared. "On that," he answered, "we are in complete agreement."

Both Lin Kuei looked genuinely surprised. Smoke frowned. "...You're not allied with him?"

Fenrir blinked. "Why would I be?" His answer came immediately. "I have no intention of standing beside a man willing to butcher the souls of his own people in exchange for obedience." His voice lowered. "Sektor speaks of evolution. I only see slavery in his actions. He strips men of their humanity, calls it progress, and expects the realms to applaud."

Fenrir slowly shook his head. "No." His eyes met Kuai Liang's. "Men like him cannot be allowed to shape the future."

For the first time since entering the palace, Kuai Liang allowed himself to relax. His arms folded naturally across his chest. A small smile formed beneath his mask. "I see you're still the same warrior who rescued me."

Fenrir smiled back; it was a genuine smile. Yet melancholic. Still the same...If only that were true.

Sometimes he wondered whether that careless Earthrealm demon hunter still existed beneath the weight of a crown, a civil war, and blood that no longer entirely belonged to him. "I try to be," he admitted quietly. He let the thought
disappear before continuing. "For several weeks now we've maintained indirect communication with the Cyber Lin Kuei."
Smoke stiffened. "What?"

"We've been feeding them false intelligence." Fenrir glanced toward Barong. "Courtesy of our spymaster."

Carkas took over. "If you believed your survival until now was solely the result of your own skill..." The Marshal's tone remained respectful, though undeniably blunt. "...then you've underestimated Barong."

The eternal spymaster stepped beside him. "Our scouts located both of you only days after the tournament." Barong finally spoke, his voice as quiet as ever. "You were already being hunted. We decided it was more useful for Sektor to keep chasing ghosts."

Smoke stared at him. "You've... been protecting us?"

"In our own fashion," Barong answered simply. "Every hunting party sent after you was redirected. Including reports and witnesses."

Kuai Liang slowly exhaled. Once again...He found himself indebted to Fenrir. "I don't know how to repay this."

Fenrir gave a dismissive wave. "In one way." His expression sharpened. "Kill Sektor." Silence returned. "Can you?"

Kuai Liang looked toward Smoke. The answer came without words; Smoke nodded. Sub-Zero looked back at Fenrir. "We can. We know the temple. It's patrols and weaknesses. They'll never expect us to strike directly."

"Good." Fenrir nodded once. "Then allow me to improve those odds."

Smoke tilted his head. "What do you want in return?"

Fenrir smiled slightly. "Nothing today." His answer surprised them. "I am, however, going to ask something of the future Grandmaster."

Kuai Liang frowned. "I never said I intended to become Grandmaster."

"You didn't." Fenrir agreed. "But someone must."

The cryomancer lowered his gaze. "If it were solely my choice..." He sighed. "...I'd allow the Lin Kuei to die with Sektor. Too much blood, betrayals, and mistakes were committed in the name of progress. I don't know if the clan deserves another chance."

"I won't let you say that." Smoke stepped beside him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Tundra." The old codename immediately drew Kuai Liang's attention. "We've lost almost everyone." Smoke's voice remained calm, but emotion lingered beneath every word. "Bi-Han, our brothers. Our students...Our home. If you walk away, then Sektor wins."
Kuai Liang remained silent. Smoke continued.

"You've spent your entire life protecting others. You protected me and innocent people during the tournament. You've never stopped acting like a grandmaster. You've simply refused to admit it." His grip tightened. "The Lin Kuei needs someone worthy of rebuilding it."

"I can't," Sub-Zero whispered.

"It has to be you." Smoke stated. The throne room became completely still. Fenrir watched the exchange without interruption. He understood that look, the crushing weight of responsibility. The fear of accepting leadership. He had worn that same expression not long ago.

Kuai Liang's thoughts drifted toward his brother. Towards Scorpion, the operating table and every Lin Kuei warrior whose soul had been lost.

Perhaps Smoke was right, perhaps revenge alone was no longer enough. If Sektor died...Someone would have to rebuild what remained. Someone should teach future generations what the Lin Kuei had once stood for.

Honor.

Discipline.

Brotherhood.

"I'll think about it." It wasn't acceptance, but it wasn't rejection either.

Fenrir smiled. "I know." He slowly climbed the steps back toward the throne before sitting once more. "I also know how heavy that decision feels." His eyes remained fixed upon Kuai Liang. "So I'll only ask one thing. If the Lin Kuei rises again...It must stand where it was always meant to stand."

The room grew quiet.

"Beside Earthrealm."

All eyes turned to look at him in that moment. "You will serve Lord Raiden once again. You will become Earth's protectors."

Kuai Liang bowed deeply. "You have my word."

Smoke followed immediately. "And mine." His expression softened. "Lord Raiden saved my life in the Dead Woods; this is the very least we owe him."

Fenrir's smile widened. "I was hoping you'd say that." He nodded toward Carkas.

"The arrangements have already been made." The Marshal stepped forward. "Barong has prepared another false trail."
Fenrir continued. "Sektor will believe you've fled toward the southern lands, to the centaur lands. He'll dispatch another hunting force." A wolfish grin appeared on the emperor's face. "I would advise you to use that advantage in your favour."
Smoke chuckled. "A trap."

"A very expensive one," Fenrir replied. "The more cyborgs he sends chasing shadows...the fewer will remain to defend the temple."

Kuai Liang understood immediately. "You've already planned the battlefield."

"I've learned that's usually half the victory." Carkas chuckled at the emperor's comment, a proud smirk forming at his progress.

The two Lin Kuei bowed one final time. "You have our gratitude."

As Carkas escorted them toward the massive doors, Fenrir's voice echoed through the chamber once more. "Kuai Liang." The cryomancer stopped and turned.

Fenrir's expression carried the quiet respect one warrior offered another.

"Be as silent as the night."

Without hesitation, both Lin Kuei placed a closed fist over their hearts in the ancient gesture of their clan.

"And deadly as the dawn."