Sub-Zero vs Sektor.

“So…this is it, then.”

Smoke spoke the words quietly, though the mountain wind carried them farther than he intended.

From the snow-covered ridge overlooking Shulianghu, the Lin Kuei temple stood against the night like the carcass of something ancient that had been hollowed out and forced to keep breathing. Its foundations remained where generations of warriors had trained, meditated, bled, and sworn themselves to the clan, but almost everything else about the place had changed. Steel reinforcement had been bolted into old stone. Red surveillance lights moved methodically along the outer walls. Searchlights cut through the drifting snow in slow mechanical arcs, and narrow ventilation towers breathed pale exhaust into the winter air.

There had been a time when Smoke could have approached those gates blindfolded.

He remembered lanterns burning beneath the eaves. The dry crack of training weapons colliding in the courtyard before dawn. Instructors shouting corrections over the whistle of mountain wind. The temple bell sounding through the valley whenever another cycle of training began. He remembered laughter, too, though the old Grandmaster had never approved of much of it.

Now the only sounds reaching them were the dull mechanical pulse of a facility that never truly slept.

Calling it a temple felt wrong; Sektor certainly no longer did. In the reports intercepted over the past several months, the temple had become a headquarters, a command centre and production facility. A place where humanity entered and perished under the cold hand of metal.

Smoke's eyes remained fixed on the fortress below. “Funny,” he said after a long moment, though there was no humour in his voice. “Spent half my life trying to leave this place.” His jaw tightened beneath the grey mask covering his face. “Now I would give anything to see it the way it used to be.”

Kuai Liang stood beside him without answering.

The cryomancer had crouched beside a flat stretch of stone, preparing his equipment with the deliberate calm of a man performing an old ritual. One by one, he checked the short blades mounted along his forearms and wrists. Each was removed, inspected, and returned to its proper sheath. He tightened the bindings around his palms, flexed his fingers, then adjusted the fastening around the armour protecting his shoulders.

A thin white and cold breath escaped beneath his mask. The cold emanating from it did not bother him; the sight below did.

Smoke knew him well enough to recognise the difference. Kuai Liang rarely gave grief the satisfaction of appearing as such. Anger became discipline. Sadness became strength in remembrance. Only those who had fought beside him for years knew how to read the silence.

At last, Kuai Liang rose. “Inform Carkas,” he said. His tone was even and controlled. “We are ready.”

Smoke nodded and reached beneath the folds of his uniform. From an inner pouch he withdrew the small Outworld token Carkas had provided before the operation. It looked deceptively simple: a flat piece of dark metal etched with angular glyphs that empowered it. Smoke pressed his thumb against its centre; the object hummed in response. A faint amber projection rose from its surface, sharpening into the image of the Outworld marshal standing.

Carkas gave them a curt nod. “Lin Kuei.”

Smoke's mouth twitched faintly at the title. There were very few of them left who could still claim it.

“My men are in position,” Carkas continued. His voice carried the blunt economy of a soldier who believed unnecessary words wasted useful time. “Northern wall, eastern supply route, and the lower approach are covered. Once we begin, every pair of eyes in that fortress should turn towards us.”

Smoke glanced at Kuai; the cryomancer gave one nod. “Then you won't have to wait much longer,” Smoke replied. His voice regained some of its old confidence. “Hit them.”

Carkas's expression hardened into something almost eager. “Gladly.” The projection flickered. Before it disappeared, Carkas added, “Good hunting.”

Smoke lowered the token just as the first explosion erupted beneath the ridge. The northern section of the Lin Kuei compound vanished behind a blossom of orange fire. A second detonation followed along the outer wall, then another, accompanied by bursts of Lin Kuei’s weapons firing that echoed through the valley.

Searchlights snapped toward the assault. Sirens awakened. Rows of red indicators flared to life across the fortress.

Smoke watched troop movements begin almost immediately. Cyber Lin Kuei poured from defensive stations and converged toward the diversion exactly as planned. “Subtle,” Smoke remarked with a grin.

“Carkas was never hired for subtlety,” Kuai replied. “Fenrir kept his promise, now it’s our time to keep ours.”

Another explosion illuminated the mountain. Smoke's gaze shifted toward his companion. “Think Sektor knows we're coming?”

Kuai Liang began walking downhill. “I am counting on it.”

There was something in the answer Smoke did not immediately question. He fell into step beside him. “Then let's not disappoint him.”

They crossed the outer perimeter without ever allowing the guards to understand that they had been breached. The first cyber sentry stood upon a raised platform overlooking the western approach. Smoke materialised behind it in a curling veil of grey vapour, caught the machine beneath the chin, and twisted before its sensors could register the intrusion.

Twenty metres ahead, another guard turned toward the sound; it never completed the movement. A needle of ice punched through the optical array in its visor. The cyber warrior went rigid. Kuai Liang emerged from beneath the shadow of a stone wall, caught the machine by one shoulder, and dragged it silently behind cover.

They continued forward, no step wasted in their movements.

They had performed infiltrations together often enough that communication had become almost instinctive. Smoke knew when Kuai would advance before the cryomancer shifted his weight. Kuai could read the direction of Smoke's teleport from the first curl of vapour forming around his feet.

Years ago, the warriors they now killed would have been called brothers. That knowledge had paralysed them once; not anymore. Sektor had taken the horror of striking one's own clan and repeated it until horror became necessity. Whatever remained inside the newer cyber warriors was buried too deeply beneath programming to recognise mercy, and hesitation would only create more bodies for the Initiative to harvest.

Within minutes they reached the western foundation of the old temple. Unlike the reinforced entrances dominating the compound, this section still retained much of the original stonework. Snow had gathered beneath its ancient roof.

Kuai placed one palm against the wall. Smoke recognised the location at once. “You remember where the entrance was, right?” he asked.

Kuai's gaze remained on the narrow outline almost invisible within the stone. “Of course.”

The passage had been shown only to a handful of senior disciples, an evacuation route built centuries ago for the Grandmaster and those entrusted with the survival of the clan. Smoke remembered being brought through it once in complete darkness as part of a test. Kuai Liang had been beside him. Sektor had been there as well… as was Bi-Han.

Frost spread beneath Kuai's palm. Ice crept over the hidden doorway in branching white veins, sinking deep into the ancient structure until the entire section crystallised. Kuai Liang stepped back, tightened one fist, and drove it forward. The frozen door shattered inward. Fragments of stone and ice scattered across the secret corridor beyond.

Kuai Liang slipped inside first; Smoke followed. Neither noticed the tiny lens hidden high above the entrance.

Or perhaps one of them did. For half a second, Kuai Liang's eyes shifted upward toward the faint red glow. Then he continued walking.

The camera rotated silently after them. Deep within the headquarters, recognition protocols began comparing facial structures.

Two matches appeared.

KUAI LIANG.

TOMAS VRBADA.

Intrusion alerts propagated across the central network. By the time the first cyber guards received the warning, Kuai Liang and Smoke were already inside the corpse of their home.

The change became undeniable the moment they left the old escape corridor. Smoke stopped dead on his tracks. Kuai Liang did not, though his pace slowed. The temple had not been renovated; it had been assimilated by machinery.

Ancient wooden support beams remained overhead, but thick cables now wound around them like black veins. Hydraulic pipes had been drilled through hand-carved walls depicting generations of Lin Kuei warriors. Titanium reinforcement plates covered sections of old stone. A proof that tradition had been conquered rather than discarded.

The marble floor where students once practised forms had been torn open and covered with steel grating. Black oil had seeped into the seams beneath it. Every few metres, ventilation shafts exhaled clouds of steam into corridors that had once smelled of incense.

There were no banners anymore, or at least not as they remembered. The old Lin Kuei crest still appeared everywhere, but now only as a holographic projection: crimson lines flickering against walls, rotating endlessly above junctions. The symbol itself had not changed; everything it represented had.

Smoke stared at one of the projections as it passed over his face. “He kept the crest.”

Kuai glanced at it, with sorrow he answered. “Sektor believes he is evolving the clan.”

“By gutting everything that made it one?” Smoke scoffed quietly, ire seeping through his words.

“He would call that improvement.” Kuai Liang replied solemnly. His disdain for Sektor palpable.

Yet, they pushed farther inside. The deeper they went, the more difficult it became to recognise individual chambers. Meditation rooms had become charging stations; the old archive had been partitioned by server towers whose internal fans produced a ceaseless droning hum.

They reached the main hall several minutes later; the doors were already open. Smoke stepped through first. What he saw then made him forget how to breathe. “No…”

The great hall had once been the spiritual centre of the Lin Kuei temple. Now it was a slaughterhouse built by engineers.

Massive mechanical arms hung from the vaulted ceiling on articulated tracks, pivoting with relentless efficiency from one workstation to another. Welding torches erupted in blinding flashes as armour plates were fused onto half-finished cybernetic bodies suspended in steel harnesses. Mechanical claws transported limbs across conveyor systems. Diagnostic screens pulsed over every station, measuring heart rates, neural compatibility, muscle density and behavioural compliance.

Where the ancestral shrine had once stood, a transparent surgical chamber dominated the room.

Smoke's stomach turned. Automated instruments descended around the unconscious warrior with clinical precision. Lasers opened flesh. Bone saws separated vertebrae. A framework of needles stabilised the head while mechanical arms prepared the spinal column for extraction. The system had become very good at its work; that only made it even more terrifying to stare at.

Kuai Liang turned toward him. A tear had escaped Smoke's eye and traced a clean line through the dust coating his cheek.

Smoke did not wipe it away. “They turned all of it into this.”

Kuai Liang looked across the factory; his expression had become almost unnaturally still. “No.” Smoke looked at him, Kuai's voice lowered. “Sektor did.” There was enough hatred in the name to chill the air around them.

Then Smoke noticed the walls. Rows of cylindrical cryogenic chambers lined the entire perimeter of the hall. Dozens, perhaps more. Shapes floated within them, human shapes.

Smoke approached the nearest tube. A Lin Kuei warrior rested suspended inside pale chemical fluid, unconscious but alive. Wires disappeared beneath the skin along his skull. Diagnostic markings identified him not by name but by conversion number.

ORGANIC SUBJECT 041.

NEURAL HARVEST: PENDING.

The next held a woman Smoke remembered seeing in the western training hall years earlier. The one beside her contained another disciple. Then, Another and Another.

Smoke pressed one palm against the glass. “They're alive.”

Kuai joined him, his gaze travelled down the row. “They are not.”

Smoke turned confused.

Kuai's tone allowed no argument. “All of them had already been converted long ago, they are husks now.” He gestured Tomas towards the central terminal beside the production floor.

Smoke crossed to it and brushed aside a layer of condensation. Lines of encrypted information streamed rapidly across the display. “Maintenance logs.” He muttered.

Kuai remained near the pods. “Anything useful?”

Smoke began navigating through directories. At first there was nothing beyond conversion statistics, behavioural matrices and production reports. Then one folder caught his attention.

GENERATION PROGRAM — AUTHORISED: GRANDMASTER SEKTOR

Smoke opened it, his brow furrowed. “Kuai.” Something in his tone brought Sub-Zero to his side immediately. Smoke began reading. “After multiple successful conversions, depletion of viable organic subjects became the primary limiting factor in our ever-growing evolution.”

His eyes moved lower. The writing carried Sektor's unmistakable precision. Smoke's expression worsened.

“Organic individuality has therefore become unnecessary. Replication of suitable biological substrates has entered final-stage testing. Working in cooperation with the most capable members of the Initiative, we have successfully cultivated replacement tissue from archived Lin Kuei genetic material.”

Smoke stopped. Kuai had already understood; the rumours were true then. His gaze moved away from the screen. Toward the far side of the chamber. Another series of pods stood there, visually different from the others. These contained cybernetic bodies, finished ones, awaiting activation.

Smoke followed him. The nearest pod illuminated automatically as they approached. An identification sequence appeared across the glass.

LK-520

Beneath it:

COMBAT TEMPLATE: KUAI LIANG

And beneath that:

DESIGNATION: CYBER SUB-ZERO

Kuai stared at himself, or at least the flawed copy of him.

The face visible through sections of the unfinished armour possessed his structure, his proportions, even the faint contours of scars copied from archived medical records. But the eyes were closed and empty. The body had been built larger in several places where Sektor's engineers apparently believed muscle could be improved by mechanical reinforcement.

Smoke's mouth went dry. “How…” He rushed back toward the terminal and searched. There were more files. More genetic templates. Then he found the one he was looking for;

LK-7T2

His fingers stopped moving; the corresponding pod lit up. Smoke turned toward it slowly. Inside stood another Tomas Vrbada. Grey cybernetic armour covered most of the body. Sections of synthetic flesh remained exposed around the face and neck, ghost-pale beneath the preservation fluid. The machine wore the outline of his features with obscene accuracy.

Smoke approached the glass, his own reflection merged with the cybernetic face beyond it.

Diagnostic text scrolled beside the body.

TACTICAL TEMPLATE: TOMAS VRBADA AKA SMOKE.

CODENAME: LK-7T2

MOTOR MEMORY RECONSTRUCTION: 83%

COMBAT RESPONSE REPLICATION: STABLE

Then came the final line.

PERSONALITY MATRIX: OMITTED

Smoke stepped backwards. For the first time since entering the facility, fear found him. Not fear of death, something worse. The possibility of surviving while everything that made him him was removed. “That's not me.”

Kuai stood beside him now. “No.”

Smoke's breathing had become shallow. “It has my face.” Smoke looked at him. Kuai's gaze had never left the clone. “How did they get enough material?” The answer came before Smoke finished asking.

Kuai's eyes narrowed. “The medical examinations before the tournament.”

Then, Smoke remembered. Blood samples. Tissue screening. Sektor himself supervising portions of the process while their old Grandmaster assured them it was routine.

His stomach twisted. “They took our blood and archived it.” Smoke looked again at the thing wearing his face. “We trusted them.”

Kuai's expression hardened. “We were taught to.”

Smoke lowered his head. For several seconds, the only sound between them came from the machinery.

Kuai returned to the terminal and read through the remaining data. “These copies are incomplete.”

Smoke forced himself to focus. “How can you tell?”

Kuai pointed toward the behavioural statistics. “Their techniques come from recorded combat patterns and reconstructed motor memory. They can imitate us, but they cannot adapt like us.” His eyes shifted toward the lines identifying missing data.

Smoke looked at Cyber-Smoke again.

“That's why Sektor keeps hunting the remaining Lin Kuei,” Kuai continued. “Every original warrior gives him more information. More refined biological material. More memories to copy.”

Smoke's voice grew bitter. “Until the copies are close enough that nobody notices the difference.”

Kuai shook his head. “There will always be a difference.” He lifted one hand, cold gathered around his fingers. The temperature in the chamber dropped sharply. Frost raced across the glass of every clone pod.

Smoke looked toward him. “Kuai—”

Ice swallowed the cylinders before he could finish. The production line alarms began shrieking as the temperature plummeted. Warnings flashed across nearby screens. Kuai ignored them. Ice extended from his hands and condensed into the shape of a massive war hammer, its head thick and translucent, vapour spilling from its surface.

He stepped before the pod containing Cyber Sub-Zero. For a moment, he stared at the imitation of himself behind the ice. Everything Sektor believed humanity could be reduced to stood on the other side of that glass. Metal and obedience. Nothing else.

Kuai swung with all his strength; the hammer struck with the sound of a glacier splitting. Glass exploded inward. Frozen preservation fluid shattered into glittering fragments. The unfinished cybernetic body collapsed with the wreckage, breaking against the floor beneath Kuai's feet.

He didn’t stop there.

A second swing destroyed the next pod. Then another and another. Smoke watched the copies of dead and living Lin Kuei fall apart one after another beneath the hammer.

When Kuai finally stopped, fractured metal and ice covered the floor. He allowed the weapon to dissolve from his hands. Then he turned toward Smoke. The fury in his expression had gone cold. Far colder than the ice surrounding them. Whatever restraint Kuai had carried into the headquarters was still there, but its purpose had changed. This was no longer merely an infiltration designed to cripple the Cyber Initiative. Something had become personal enough to cross the line into certainty.

Kuai Liang looked once toward the surveillance lenses embedded along the factory walls; he knew Sektor was watching now. Perhaps he wanted him to.

“Whatever happens tonight,” he said, his voice low and absolute, “Sektor does not leave this place alive.”

Smoke looked from his friend to the ruin surrounding them. His sorrow had not disappeared; it had simply found a new purpose. He reached for the weapons at his waist.

“For once,” Tomas said quietly, “you won't hear an argument from me.”

With the clone laboratories reduced to frozen wreckage behind them, Kuai Liang and Smoke pushed deeper into what remained of their home. The alarms had not stopped. Crimson light pulsed along the steel-reinforced corridors, bathing old stone carvings in the colour of blood. Mechanical voices repeated evacuation restrictions and intrusion warnings while distant footsteps echoed through passages ahead of them. Somewhere beyond the walls, Carkas and his soldiers continued their assault, explosions periodically shaking dust from the ancient ceiling.

Sektor knew they were inside now; there was no longer any reason for subtlety.

Smoke emerged from a cloud of grey vapour behind the final cybernetic sentry guarding the server chamber. He caught its mechanical arm before it could fire, twisted beneath the weapon, and sent a burst of condensed smoke directly through the openings beneath its jaw. The machine convulsed as its internal systems overloaded. Kuai Liang passed him without breaking stride and drove a short blade of ice through the optical array of the second guard.

The two cyber warriors collapsed almost simultaneously.

Smoke glanced at the bodies. “You know, there was a time when reaching the archives required three passwords and permission from the Grandmaster.”

Kuai wiped frost from his gauntlet. “Sektor simplified the process.”

Smoke looked at the shattered guards. “I noticed.”

The doors to the server chamber slid open. Heat struck them immediately.

Unlike the freezing mountain air outside, the room was oppressively warm, generated by rows upon rows of servers stretching from floor to ceiling. Thick cables disappeared beneath steel grating. Cooling systems thrummed behind the walls. Holographic screens hovered in the central aisle, each displaying system diagnostics, clone deployment statistics and security feeds.

Smoke stared upward. “That's a lot of machinery.” At the heart of the chamber stood the primary terminal. Smoke crossed toward it and reached beneath his armour. The small device he retrieved would have looked unimpressive beside Sektor's machinery, a narrow black drive no longer than his thumb, its casing scratched and unmarked.

Yet several people had risked their lives to create what rested inside it.

Smoke rolled the drive between his fingers. “The developer who gave us this seemed very certain.”

Kuai took position beside the entrance. “Wouldn’t you after having to change your identity three times?”

“Which usually inspires confidence.”

Kuai looked over his shoulder. Smoke raised both hands slightly. “All right. No jokes.”

Kuai's eyes narrowed. Smoke turned toward the terminal before his friend could answer. “Let's hope this works.” He inserted the drive.

Nothing happened for two seconds, then three. Smoke frowned. Then every screen in the chamber turned red. A mechanical warning exploded from the terminal.

“WARNING: UNAUTHORISED CODE DETECTED.” Another followed immediately. “NETWORK CONTAMINATION CONFIRMED.”

The chamber lights flickered. Then the voice propagated throughout the entire headquarters.

“SECURITY ALERT. TWO ROGUE LIN KUEI DETECTED.” Holographic images of their faces appeared across every screen. “POSITIVE IDENTIFICATION: KUAI LIANG. DESIGNATION: SUB-ZERO.”

A second image appeared. “TOMAS VRBADA. DESIGNATION: SMOKE.”

Smoke folded his arms. “Rogue. That's insulting.”

Kuai heard the first metallic footsteps approaching beyond the door. “Get ready.” They assumed their stances just as the first wave arrived. Four cyber warriors entered through the main door. Another pair dropped through maintenance apertures overhead. A third group emerged from an auxiliary corridor Smoke had not even noticed.

Kuai Liang counted twelve in the first five seconds. Yet more followed.

They attacked together. Smoke vanished before the first projectile reached him. The bullets passed through the cloud he left behind and landed against an empty server rack. He materialised above two attackers, struck one across the neck with his heel, then dissolved again before its companion could respond.

Sub-Zero met the frontal assault; he remained deliberately restrained. Small weapons and short bursts of frost accompanied his attacks. Efficient movements that never revealed the true extent of what he could produce.

A cyber warrior lunged. Kuai froze its knee, stepped inside its guard and broke the joint with one downward strike. He redirected the collapsing body into another attacker before sliding beneath a spinning blade. A thin ice dagger formed between his fingers; he drove it through the second machine's processor.

Smoke appeared beside him. “Still feeding them bad information?”

“Yes.” He answered solemnly.

“Good.” Smoke turned intangible for the fraction of a second necessary for a metal fist to pass through his ribs without resistance. He reformed behind the attacker and slammed both palms against its back. “Because there are quite a few of them.”

Every machine they destroyed seemed to be replaced by two more. Yet skill could not compensate forever for numbers. A coded net wrapped around Smoke's legs when he reappeared from one teleport. He cut through it, but the hesitation allowed a cyber warrior to strike him across the face.

Kuai Liang turned to assist, but three more machines attacked simultaneously. He managed to freeze one, broke another and blocked the third. Then four more arrived. Nevertheless, the virus counter continued climbing on the central display.

38%

46%

57%

Smoke was thrown against a server rack. Sub-Zero caught a rocket-powered fist across the chest and slid several metres across the steel floor.

71%

They fought back-to-back. Smoke's breathing had become heavier, ragged. “Any brilliant ideas?”

Kuai shattered another mechanical arm. “Continue.”

“That’s the brilliant idea?”

“Yes.” He answered cold and collected as he kicked the frozen cyborg, shattering it in pieces.

Smoke grunted as he blocked a kick. “I hate you so much.”

82%

The room filled with metal. Smoke disappeared and reappeared twice in rapid succession, but each teleport became harder to complete before another machine intercepted him. Kuai was struck from behind; one cyber warrior seized his arms. Another locked mechanical shackles around his wrists. He froze the first link instinctively; then stopped.

The virus counter reached 87%.

Kuai looked across the room; Smoke had been captured as well. Their eyes met; Tomas understood. Not yet. Kuai allowed the cold around his wrists to fade. The cyber warriors dragged them away.

Behind them, the terminal continued its silent work…89%

The control room sat at the centre of Headquarters like the brain of a diseased organism. Every corridor, production chamber and security system converged there. The entire Lin Kuei complex had been reduced to information. Standing before that information was a warrior who had once been a man.

Cyrax.

What remained of him was barely recognisable. The disciplined fighter who had trained once beside both invaders, the man whose quiet humour had surfaced during the worst moments of long missions, was gone.

What stood at the terminal possessed Cyrax's height and movements; little else remained visible. Yellow armour enclosed his body from head to foot. A synthetic voice emerged through a face no longer capable of expression. Cables connected the ports along his spine to the central network, turning him into both soldier and administrator. His hands moved across holographic controls with perfect efficiency. There was no hesitation because emotion had been programmed out of him.

At the far end of the chamber, Sektor appeared next to Cyrax. One section of armour along his shoulder had been blackened by an explosion. Several scratches cut through the red plating over his chest, a result of Carkas's ambush.

Sektor turned immediately toward Cyrax. “Status.”

Cyrax did not look away from the display. “Perimeter forces remain engaged with the Outworld contingent. Forty-one percent of external defence units have sustained critical damage.”

Sektor took a step closer to the terminal. “I leave the headquarters under your supervision for one operation, only to be deceived into an ambush while two traitors breach our most secure facility.” His voice carried the artificial distortion of machinery, yet anger bled through it unmistakably. “Explain.”

Cyrax's head moved a fraction. “The intrusion utilised an archived evacuation corridor. Entry was recorded by surveillance node W-Seven.”

Sektor went still. “…The old passage.” If the memory meant anything to him, his machine body gave no sign. “And the virus?”

Cyrax turned toward another screen. “Initial analysis indicates the code originated from a civilian software developer operating within Chicago, United States. Acquisition method unknown.”

Sektor looked toward the infection counter. 94% “Damage?”

“No measurable reduction in network combat efficiency.” Cyrax paused. Cyrax's head tilted slightly, as though listening to something only he could hear. Then his mechanical voice continued. “Slaving architecture is being rewritten at the neurological command level. The code does not appear designed to damage mechanical systems.” Another pause, longer. “Its objective remains…unclear.”

“Run a full purge.” Sektor only commanded.

Cyrax's fingers moved; one of the displays flickered. For less than a second, a directory appeared beneath the primary network architecture.

ANIMA REDUNDANCY CORE

STATUS: ISOLATED

EXTERNAL BACKUP: ACTIVE

Cyrax's voice changed subtly. “Primary purge unsuccessful.”

Sektor stepped nearer. “Try again.”

The doors opened behind them. Two cyber guards entered, dragging Kuai Liang and Smoke by their shackles. “Grandmaster Sektor.” Sektor turned at the sound of their robotic voice. “The rogue operatives have been secured. Conversion facilities await authorisation.”

Silence filled the room. Sub-Zero could not see Sektor's face; he did not need to. Kuai Liang knew the man beneath the machine well enough to imagine the smile.

Sektor approached them slowly. “Welcome home.” His rocket-assisted fist struck Kuai Liang across the face. The impact snapped his head sideways. Blood splattered across the steel floor.

“Traitor.”

Smoke jerked against his restraints. “You son of a—” Sektor backhanded him without turning. Smoke stumbled into the machine holding him.

Sub-Zero straightened again; blood ran from beneath his nose. He looked at Sektor with nothing resembling fear. “I am not home.” Sektor's head tilted. Kuai spat blood onto the floor between them. “And this is not the Lin Kuei.” His gaze shifted deliberately toward the surrounding machinery. “It is a failed experiment.”

Sektor struck him again, harder this time. This time Kuai remained standing. “Still clinging to sentiment.” Sektor seized him by the jaw, metallic fingers pressing painfully against bone. “You witnessed the weakness of the old clan. You watched brothers betray masters, students question orders, and warriors die because flesh could not survive what discipline demanded of it.”

Kuai's eyes hardened. “I watched your father turn a clan into property.”

Sektor tightened his grip. “My father understood purpose; I perfected his vision.”

“Your father understood obedience; you are insane.” Smoke smiled despite the blood at the corner of his mouth. “Touchy subject.” Sektor released Kuai and turned sharply toward him. Smoke's smile widened. “What? No humour module?”

Sektor resisted the temptation, barely. His target was already decided. He returned his attention to Kuai. “One question.” His tone lowered. “Answer honestly, and I may permit your termination rather than conversion.”

Kuai gave a quiet laugh. “Generous.”

Sektor gestured toward the infection display.

97%

“What is your virus doing to my network?”

Kuai looked at the number. A thin line of frost began forming unnoticed across the inside of his restraints.

98%

He smiled. “Fixing it.”

For the first time, Sektor's composure vanished. “Cyrax.” The yellow cyborg turned. “Initiate emergency neurological dump. Restore all behavioural control protocols from offline backup.”

Cyrax's hands moved over the interface. One control refused him. He tried another. His head twitched. A fragmented sound escaped his voice module. “I…” Sektor turned toward him. Cyrax stared at his own hand. For the briefest instant, an image crossed his internal systems, a memory.

Snow falling through a training courtyard. Smoke laughing after Cyrax had slipped during morning drills. Kuai Liang offering him a hand. The Grandmaster speaking of duty…Sektor speaking of inevitability and obedience. Himself refusing. Then restraints, needles, darkness and metal. His fingers curled.

“Cyrax.” The memories vanished beneath command. His head snapped upright.

“I cannot.”

Sektor stepped forward. “What?”

Cyrax's voice glitched. “Emergency dump access has been…denied.”

The infection counter changed.

99%

Sektor looked toward the screen. Then back again at Kuai Liang. Understanding came too late, for he had already made his move. Ice burst across Kuai Liang's shackles. The frozen metal shattered. He turned immediately, drove both palms outward, and encased the cyber guards holding him and Smoke in solid ice.

Smoke grinned. “Or perhaps something is finally right.”

Kuai Liang broke Smoke's restraints with one strike. Smoke rolled his shoulders and assumed his stance beside him.

The infection counter remained at ninety-nine.

Sektor raised his rocket arm. Sub-Zero spoke before he fired. “One thing you machines never seem to understand.” The missile erupted from Sektor's wrist. Smoke vanished. The rocket tore through the cloud where he had stood; Sub-Zero dragged one of the frozen guards into its path. The explosion shattered the machine and sent Kuai Liang sliding backward across the floor behind the ruined body.

He rolled once and rose. Smoke materialised beside him. Kuai's eyes moved from Sektor to Cyrax, then to every cybernetic warrior connected to the infected network. “You can suppress someone's conscience.”

The counter changed.

100%

Every light in the control room went white. The system voice staggered across the speakers, corrupted by static.

“INF—INFECTION COMPLETE.”

“ORIGINAL ORGANIC NEURAL MATRICES IDENTIFIED.”

“SLAVING PROTOCOLS…”

Static tore through the sentence. “…DISENGAGED.”

Kuai completed the thought. “…but you cannot delete their humanity.”

Sektor stared at Cyrax. Then he laughed. The sound was mechanical and ugly, distorted through his damaged voice module. “That?” Smoke and Kuai shifted their attention toward him. Sektor spread his arms. “That was your grand strategy?”

Around them, the doors opened. Cyber warriors entered, dozens of them. They surrounded the chamber in perfect formation.

Sektor's laughter deepened. “You thought freeing a handful of obsolete organic consciousnesses would destroy what I built?” He gestured toward the surrounding machines. “The Cyber Initiative has already moved beyond conversion.”

Kuai's gaze sharpened.

Sektor stepped toward the nearest clone. “These soldiers have no buried conscience for your virus to awaken. No childhood. No doubt. No fear. No divided loyalties.” The cloned-cyber warrior stared ahead without reaction. “There is nothing inside them except purpose.”

Smoke's expression darkened. Sektor turned back toward Kuai. “It was a mistake to believe that someone here shares your mortality, Kuai Liang.” His rocket arm aligned with Sub-Zero's chest. A red targeting beam appeared over Kuai's armour. Sektor's voice grew almost reverent. “The Lin Kuei have transcended humanity.”

Smoke glanced around at the expressionless machines. “Funny.”

Sektor looked toward him. “What?”

Tomas's eyes narrowed. “For someone who thinks emotions are obsolete, you sound pretty angry.”

Sektor fired in retribution. Smoke and Kuai separated. The rocket exploded between them. Smoke vanished into vapour once again while Kuai rolled behind a console.

“Cyrax!” Sektor commanded. “Immobilise them.”

The yellow warrior stood motionless. His chest rose despite possessing no biological need to breathe. Inside his restored consciousness, months of memory returned in broken pieces. People screaming while he dragged them toward conversion…Their screams begging him to stop. Commands, always commands. He remembered knowing what was happening. Remembered being unable to stop his own body.

Sektor's voice cut through the memories. “Cyrax.” His head lifted. “Obey.”

Cyrax stepped forward. The compartment in his chest opened. Green energy gathered inside the net projector towards Sub-Zero, who tried to recover from the previous explosion.

“Cyrax.” The former Lin Kuei turned toward him. “You don't have to do this.”

Cyrax's voice came quieter than before, less synthetic somehow. “Yes…” Sektor watched, pleased. “…I do, Kuai Liang.” His chest projector began to fire. “For the Lin Kuei…” The green net materialised. Sektor smiled victoriously toward Kuai, convinced the attack was meant for him.

Suddenly, Cyrax pivoted. “…AND FOR HUMANITY!” The net changed direction. Sektor teleported in a crimson flash a fraction of a second before it wrapped around him.

He reappeared above Cyrax. “ANOTHER TRAITOR!” A rocket-powered uppercut struck Cyrax beneath the jaw and launched him across the room.

He crashed at Kuai Liang's feet. Smoke appeared beside them. Together, they pulled their old friend upright.

Cyrax shook his head. “Ugh.” His hand went instinctively toward his jaw. He stopped when his metallic fingers touched plating. “I had forgotten what pain felt like.”

Kuai Liang allowed himself the smallest smile. “Welcome back.”

Smoke clapped Cyrax on the shoulder. “Could have chosen a gentler first experience.”

Cyrax looked between them; something resembling amusement entered his posture. “I will remember that next time.” His head snapped toward the side. “Behind you!”

Fire flooded the room. Kuai Liang quickly and cunningly thrusted both hands outward. An ice wall erupted from the floor just as Sektor's flamethrower reached them. Flames washed across the translucent wall of ice.

Sektor advanced behind the torrent. “The Lin Kuei will not tolerate this betrayal!” He intensified the flame. Cracks formed in the barrier.

Around him, the clones attacked. Smoke dissolved into vapour and passed through the first pair. He solidified behind them and drove a kick into one machine's spine while Cyrax fired a grenade accompanied by a net into another. For the first time, in what felt like forever, Cyrax fought without commands shaping every movement. It was Beautiful.

He missed his first net. The second caught a clone around the torso. Cyrax pulled as Smoke struck the trapped warrior. “Thanks, I’m rusty.” He said with what Smoke could only decipher as a smile underneath his helmet plate.

Kuai reinforced the barrier. “Sektor cannot sustain that output indefinitely.”

Smoke broke the neck of another clone. “How long can he?”

Cyrax's revived personality coloured his answer with something dangerously close to annoyance. “Long enough for several hundred clones to kill us.”

Smoke looked toward the doors; more were coming.

Kuai Liang turned toward Cyrax as he maintained the wall. “Can you shut them down?”

Cyrax threw one spherical explosive beneath three advancing machines. The blast tore through their legs and dropped them together. “Not directly.” He ducked beneath a strike. “Their cognitive architecture is incomplete by design. The clones possess combat memory, recognition protocols and limited adaptive processing, but no autonomous command hierarchy.”

Smoke teleported behind him as he dodged multiple attacks. “IN ENGLISH, CYRAX.”

Cyrax caught a mechanical punch and redirected it. “Meaning Sektor created soldiers incapable of deciding why they fight.” He drove the attacker into the wall. “They require a central master.”

Kuai looked through the melting ice barrier at Sektor. “Him.”

“Yes,” Cyrax answered solemnly.

“Say no more.” The answer changed something in Kuai's expression. Sub-Zero let the ice barrier collapse; flames roared toward him. Cold exploded beneath his feet, sliding towards Sektor and dodging his flames.

Sektor's sensors locked onto the approaching cryomancer. “Predictable.”

Sub-Zero formed a small shield along his left forearm and two narrow ice blades in his hands, the same weapons he had used repeatedly throughout the facility.

Sektor increased the flamethrower's output. “Every clone you encountered transmitted its combat telemetry directly to me.”

Kuai accelerated; the shield began melting beneath the flame. Each second was vital.

Sektor's voice became triumphant. “You cannot counter oxyhydrogen fuel burning at nearly three thousand degrees.”

Smoke watched from across the room; a grin appeared beneath his mask. He understood before Sektor did. Kuai had never intended to counter it. He had intended to cross it.

The ice beneath Sub-Zero's feet changed. The small path expanded instantly into a broad frozen channel, thicker and faster than anything he had produced since entering the compound. Sektor's targeting system tried to recalculate, but it was too late.

Kuai accelerated beyond the velocity recorded by the clones. The flimsy shield shattered under the flames. Behind it formed another, larger and sturdier in shape. A construction Sektor had never seen. Sektor attempted to teleport, but ice erupted around his feet and locked him to the floor. The delay lasted less than a second; that was more than enough for Kuai Liang to reach him.

The narrow weapons in his hands expanded into full ice swords. One cut through Sektor's right arm, the other severed his left. Flamethrower and rocket launcher fell together.

Sektor staggered backwards; His sensors flashed error warnings.

Kuai passed him. “There was one variable your clones could never measure.”

Sektor turned. Kuai planted one foot against the wall, flipped backwards over him, and locked both arms around Sektor's head. Ice spread down the cybernetic Grandmaster's neck.

Kuai's voice was almost calm. “I've been holding back this whole time.” He twisted his head, tearing the metal and snapping the wiring connected to his neck. Sektor's head separated from his body with a violent shower of blood and sparks.

Sub-Zero landed behind him holding the severed head, victorious. Sektor's mechanical body collapsed. Kuai Liang kept it in his hands; there was still use to his soulless brain. The red light in the visor faded.

For several seconds, nothing moved. Smoke stared, then raised both hands. “I knew you were holding back.” Kuai Liang turned. Smoke pointed at the head. “I did not know you were holding back that much.”

Every clone in the room stopped; one had been halfway through striking Smoke. Its fist remained suspended centimetres from his face. Another lowered its weapon. Around the facility, the sudden silence spread. Hundreds of machines ceased moving. Their heads turned independently.

Then together they spoke: “Master?” The word echoed throughout the control room.

Another voice answered from elsewhere. “Primary command node unavailable.”

A third followed. “Grandmaster Sektor: obsolete.”

The clones began speaking over one another. “Command authority required.”

“Searching authenticated hierarchy.”

“Searching.”

“Searching.”

Their heads turned toward Kuai Liang; Then moved past him. Toward Cyrax. Every clone faced the yellow warrior.

A sequence of identifiers appeared across their optics. “Authenticated original cybernetic unit located. Command succession accepted.”

Then, as one, the clones knelt.

“GRANDMASTER CYRAX.”

Cyrax stared at them. Both Smoke and Sub-Zero stared at Cyrax. Cyrax slowly pointed at himself. “Me?”

Smoke shrugged. “Talk about rising through the ranks.”

“What is your directive, Grandmaster?” the clone asked. The title seemed to disturb him more than anything else.

Cyrax glanced toward Kuai Liang; then Smoke. Both men looked equally uncertain.

Smoke eventually shrugged. “Don't look at me. I've never inherited an army before.”

Something faintly human entered Cyrax's posture. “Helpful as ever, Tomas.” He muttered, then he turned around again, addressing the cyber-LK units. “I, uh- Could you give me a moment, alone with both of them?” The clones followed his orders without question, standing up and heading towards the exit.

Kuai Liang looked toward Sektor's broken body. The former Grandmaster remained sprawled across the floor; head separated from the cybernetic shell that had carried him.

“Perhaps there is hope for the Lin Kuei after all.” His attention shifted toward Cyrax. “Maybe we can outdo the cyberization process.” Kuai Liang regarded the metal warrior before him.

Cyrax's brief amusement disappeared, he looked down. Smoke recognised the change immediately. “Cyrax?” He asked, concerned for his friend.

The yellow warrior remained silent for several seconds. When he finally spoke, the human inflection that had begun returning to his voice made the words hurt more. “If anyone can restore the honour of the Lin Kuei, it is you, Kuai Liang. The Lin Kuei need a clean slate.”

Kuai's brow furrowed.

Cyrax looked toward him. “Fighting beside you again…” He paused, apparently struggling to find language for sensations he had been denied for months. “It felt right. Better than anything I have experienced since they put me inside this shell.”

His gaze moved toward Smoke. “Both of you.”

Smoke shook his head slowly; he knew where this was going now. “No…” Smoke's expression hardened. “One last time?” he asked bitterly. “That's what you're thinking? We finally get you back and you decide we shouldn’t fight together one last time?”

Cyrax did not answer, Smoke stepped toward him. “We're telling you there's hope.”

“There is.” The answer surprised him. Cyrax lowered his gaze again. “For the Lin Kuei.” One mechanical hand touched his own chest. “Not for this. I cannot look at myself without seeing what Sektor made.”

Kuai Liang’s expression softened, Cyrax continued before either could interrupt.

“I remember what I did beneath his control. I remember the missions. The prisoners. The conversions.” His voice grew quieter. “Knowing that my will was taken does not remove those memories. It does not make these hands feel any cleaner.”

A warning appeared across the control-room monitors. Cyrax had already entered a command. The system voice spoke throughout Headquarters.

“AUTO-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE INITIATED.”

Smoke looked toward the screens. Then immediately back toward Cyrax. “What?!”

A countdown appeared overhead.

Cyrax remained strangely calm. “The remaining cyber-Lin-Kuei will be awaiting orders inside the temple before detonation. Sektor's laboratories, research and remaining clones will disappear with this place.”

Smoke understood the first half, it was the second he feared. “And you?” Cyrax said nothing. That silence confirmed everything.

Smoke stepped toward him angrily. “Absolutely not.”

Cyrax looked at him. “The Cyber Lin Kuei began here. It should end here.”

“The Cyber Lin Kuei, maybe. Not you!” He retorted.

Cyrax's gaze returned toward Sektor's corpse. “I am part of it.”

“You were its victim!” Smoke's voice echoed across the control room. Cyrax visibly recoiled. Tomas rarely spoke to him that way. “You really think dying in here fixes anything?” Smoke continued. “That you blow yourself up with the machines and suddenly everything Sektor forced you to do disappears?” Cyrax remained silent. “It doesn't.”

The countdown continued.

Kuai Liang stepped between them. Unlike Smoke, he did not raise his voice. He placed one hand firmly upon Cyrax's shoulder. The gesture was almost mundane. Yet something about it made Cyrax finally look at him. “You are correct about one thing,” Kuai Liang said. “The Lin Kuei do require a new beginning.”

Smoke looked toward his friend, Kuai's expression had changed. There was still the warrior Smoke had known for years, but something else now rested behind his eyes. Responsibility. Acceptance. The recognition that killing Sektor had ended one era and left someone responsible for beginning another.

Cyrax inclined his head. “You are the Grandmaster now, Sub-Zero.”

Kuai Liang did not reject the title. For the first time, he accepted its weight. “Then my first decision as Grandmaster is that you are coming with us.”

Cyrax stared at him. “Kuai…”

“You are.” There was no anger in the statement, only certainty.

Cyrax shook his head. “I don't know if I can.”

“Yes, you can.” Kuai's grip tightened gently upon his shoulder. “Be the example.”

Cyrax looked confused. “Of what?”

“That our past does not decide who we must become.” The words settled between them. Kuai Liang glanced towards Sektor lifeless body. “The Lin Kuei has spent generations teaching its warriors that mistakes require punishment and weakness deserves contempt. Sektor merely carried those beliefs to their most extreme conclusion.” His eyes returned to Cyrax. “I will not rebuild that clan.” Smoke's expression softened. “You were used. You were made to commit acts you never would have chosen freely. You cannot erase them.”

Cyrax's head lowered. “Then how do I live with them?” It was perhaps the most human question he had asked since being freed.

Kuai answered simply. “One day at a time.” Cyrax looked at him. “Help us repair what remains. Help those who survived. Find peace if you can.” His tone softened further. “And if you cannot find it today, then try again tomorrow.”

Cyrax stared toward the floor, the countdown continued above them. Could he do that? Could he ever call himself human again? That question frightened him most. His flesh was gone. His voice synthesised by circuitry. Yet moments earlier he had laughed and felt pain.

But even after all the pain he had endured, he had chosen his friends. Perhaps Kuai Liang was right.

Smoke stepped closer; his anger had faded entirely. “Cyrax…” The familiar humour was gone from his voice. “Please.”

Cyrax looked at him. Tomas's expression contained no pity. Only the quiet terror of someone who had already lost too many brothers and refused to willingly lose another. Cyrax looked once more toward the old temple. Then he nodded. “All right.”

Smoke exhaled. “Good.”

Cyrax looked toward him. “You may stop staring at me like that.”

Smoke's smile returned immediately. “Like what?”

“Like you intend to hug me,” Cyrax said, crossing his arms together.

Tomas opened his arms. “Was absolutely considering it.”

“Don't-” Before he could stop him, Tomas hugged his friend. Even Kuai allowed himself a faint grin. But time was fleeting; the countdown crossed its final minutes.

Kuai Liang gestured toward the exit. “Move.”

The three Lin Kuei warriors ran through corridors already beginning to shake beneath controlled detonations. At last, they crossed the western perimeter. They had barely reached the tree line when the first major explosion erupted behind them; the Headquarters shook. Fire tore through sections of reinforced steel. Crimson holograms flickered once, twice, then vanished. The production halls collapsed inward as the self-destruct sequence travelled through the compound.

Once outside, for several silent seconds, the three warriors watched the place that had once been their home fall apart. The old temple bell rang somewhere within the collapsing structure, one final time as fire engulfed it, disappearing beneath fire and stone.

Both Smoke and Cyrax said nothing. Kuai Liang watched until the last section of the roof collapsed. With a final reverence to their fallen comrades, they left Shulianghu behind.

Several weeks later, their search led them far north beyond China and familiar territory, into the merciless frozen wilderness of Arctika. There, hidden between mountains carved by winds older than most human kingdoms, Kuai Liang discovered something he had never expected to find.

A temple.

It was ancient, far older than the Lin Kuei compound destroyed in Shulianghu. Pale stone walls disappeared beneath layers of ice, while statues of warriors unknown to Smoke and Cyrax watched over its corridors. Carvings depicted men and women shaping frost with their bare hands, commanding blizzards, raising walls of ice and drawing weapons from frozen air.

Cryomancers, Kuai Liang's ancestors. This was their home.

The discovery unsettled him more than he initially admitted. He had spent much of his life believing his heritage reduced to fragments, stories. Powers inherited through blood from a people long scattered or destroyed. Yet here stood proof that they had once possessed a home.

Smoke immediately suggested they remain; Kuai Liang refused. The discussion lasted several days. Eventually Cyrax joined Tomas's side.

“This is not a Lin Kuei temple,” Kuai had argued.

Smoke looked around the enormous abandoned complex. “We currently don't have a place to stay as an order.”

“That is not the point.” Sub-Zero retorted.

Cyrax, seated nearby while repairing one section of his armour, looked up. “It appears defensible.”

Smoke pointed toward him. “Exactly.”

“It is isolated.”

“Also, good.”

“It possesses multiple training halls.”

Smoke smiled wider. “See? This is the place.”

Kuai stared at both of them. Neither yielded. In the end, perhaps they were right. The old Lin Kuei headquarters carried too much history, too much pain, to ever be rebuilt into something different. This place carried no such burden.

So, they stayed. The ancient Cryomancer temple became the foundation of a new Lin Kuei order. And although he remained uncomfortable whenever Tomas addressed him as Grandmaster with an exaggerated bow, the title gradually stopped feeling quite so foreign.

One night, while Smoke and Cyrax occupied themselves elsewhere in the temple, Kuai sat alone before the statue of one of his ancestors. Ancient symbols surrounded the base, their meaning lost even to Kuai.

He meditated before it, peaceful. The temple silence gave him the perfect environment to do so.

“Excuse me?”

Kuai's eyes opened. A hand touched his shoulder, training answered before thought. He seized the wrist, pulled sharply forward and twisted his body. Whoever had approached him gave a surprised cry as Kuai threw the intruder over his shoulder and pinned them against the stone floor.

“Hey!” The voice was young, female and extremely irritated.

Kuai restrained one of her arms behind her back while his free hand formed an ice dagger. “Who are you?”

“Someone who barely touched ya!”

Kuai frowned; footsteps approached behind him. Smoke entered first, followed closely by Cyrax. Tomas stopped abruptly. His gaze moved toward the woman pinned underneath his friend.

The stranger twisted beneath his grip.

She was young, perhaps around Fenrir's age from what he could judge. Pale skin contrasted sharply with unusual light-blue hair that fell messily around her face after being thrown. She wore clothing far more modern than anything found in the temple: a green winter jacket layered over a black sweater and undershirt, blue jeans and heavy boots suited for surviving the brutal Arctikan cold.

Her appearance was striking, gorgeous. Her attitude was more so.

“Name,” Kuai Liang demanded.

She stopped struggling long enough to answer. “Frost. Now would ya mind getting off me?”

Kuai did not move. “What are you doing here?”

She rolled her eyes. “Raiden invited me.”

That answer finally caught Kuai's attention. “Raiden?” Smoke and Cyrax exchanged confused looks.

Frost nodded impatiently. “Yeah. Thunder God. Glowy eyes. Talks like everything's a prophecy. That Raiden.”

Smoke made a quiet sound that might have been laughter.

Kuai Liang's expression remained stern. “Invited you here for what?”

“The tournament.” Silence followed after her answer.

Kuai stared at her. “What tournament?”

Now Frost looked confused. “The tournament to join the new Lin Kuei.”

Kuai Liang's brow furrowed deeper. “There is no tournament.”

Frost renewed her struggle. This time, cold spread across her fingers. Kuai Liang felt it immediately; his grip loosened by a fraction. Ice formed beneath Frost's palm, not from ordinary sorcery, but cryomancy.

Kuai's eyes widened. Frost smiled, mistaking his surprise for vulnerability. She twisted and caught his wrist; cold surged through her fingers. Ice spread over Kuai's gauntlet. Her smile widened. Then slowly disappeared. Kuai Liang simply stared at the frost covering his hand. The cold did nothing to him.

Frost's eyes narrowed. “Oh, you've gotta be kidding me.” Kuai Liang closed his hand around hers, disrupted the forming ice and forced both her arms securely against the ground. “Ow!”

Kuai's attention, however, had drifted elsewhere, another cryomancer. He had believed himself alone. Yet there she was, angry, reckless and currently glaring at him. “Who taught you?” he asked.

Frost blinked. “Taught me what?”

“Cryomancy.” Kuai Liang said solemnly.

Her expression changed slightly. “Nobody.”

“You developed it naturally?”

“Since I was little.” She shrugged as much as his hold allowed. “Things freeze when I get mad.”

Kuai released some of the pressure; there would be time for questions later. “You said you came for this supposed tournament.” She nodded, slowly. “You came alone?”

Frost frowned. “What do ya mean alone? We all came.”

Kuai's expression shifted. “We?”

“Uh…” Cyrax interrupted from behind him. “Kuai Liang.” The cyber-Lin-Kuei gestured toward the entrance.

Kuai turned and stared in shock; beyond them stood a crowd. Warriors occupied the temple courtyard. Men and women from different corners of Earthrealm stood wrapped in winter clothing, armour and martial garb. Some carried swords. Others bows, staffs, axes or stranger weapons he did not immediately recognise. Dozens, perhaps considerably more. All of them were looking at him.

Kuai remained silent, then he muttered beneath his breath. “Damn.” Kuai finally released her. He stood first. Frost remained seated for a moment, rubbing her wrist and glaring at him. Then Kuai Liang extended his hand; she looked at it suspiciously. After being thrown, pinned and threatened with an ice blade, the gesture clearly wasn't what she expected. Yet, he waited. Frost's expression softened by the smallest amount.

Reluctantly, she accepted. He pulled her easily to her feet. “Thank you,” she muttered. The words were quieter than anything else she had said. For the briefest moment, she smiled. Not the same arrogant grin she had worn while believing her ice would work on him, a genuine one. Then she seemed to remember herself and quickly looked away.

Kuai studied her for a second longer; she was reckless, hot-headed despite the irony of her abilities and desperate to prove herself. Yet, beneath all of that bravado, he suspected there was someone far less certain than she wanted the world to believe. He recognised that better than he cared to admit. Once, long ago, he too had been a young warrior attempting to prove his worth to the Lin Kuei.

Kuai Liang turned toward the gathered recruits. A hundred expectant eyes followed him. He folded his arms, addressing them. “I have no idea what Lord Raiden told all of you.” A few warriors exchanged glances at his words. “Nor was I aware that a tournament was being organised in my name. Frankly, I should send all of you back down this mountain.” Several faces fell; Kuai Liang allowed the silence to linger.

Then he looked over them again. They had crossed Arctika. Whatever else could be said, that alone required determination. “However…” The crowd straightened. “You made it this far.” Frost folded her arms, trying unsuccessfully to conceal her satisfaction. “Perhaps one or two of you are worthy of becoming Lin Kuei.”

Smoke whispered toward Cyrax. “One or two?”

Cyrax looked across the enormous gathering. “Accommodations may become an issue.”

Sub-Zero continued before either could distract him. “If you intend to remain, there will be rules.” His eyes moved directly toward Frost.

She immediately noticed. “Why are ya looking at me?”

Kuai's expression became almost painfully serious. “Rule number one.” He pointed at her, though the message was directed to all of them equally. “Do. Not. Attack. Your Grandmaster.”

A few chuckles travelled through the group; Frost's cheeks reddened. “I told ya, I wasn't—” Kuai raised one brow; She stopped. Her pride fought a short battle with common sense. For once, common sense won.

Frost bowed her head respectfully. “Yes, sir.” Kuai gave a small approving nod. That pleased her far more than she wanted anyone to notice.

Kuai turned and began walking toward the temple. “Come with me. All of you.” The gathered warriors began following. Frost moved with them, though she remained close enough to keep Kuai Liang in sight.

Smoke joined his friend. “Grandmaster?”

Kuai sighed. “What?”

“You do realise there are considerably more than two of them.” He said in hush whispers to his friend.

“I noticed.” Kuai Liang answered solemnly.

Cyrax came alongside them. “We have approximately thirty-seven usable sleeping chambers.”

Kuai looked toward him. “Thank you, Cyrax.” He looked toward the ceiling as though appealing to some higher power for patience. Then his expression changed.

There was, in fact, a higher power responsible for this. “I need to speak with Raiden.” Smoke laughed as the recruits followed them into the sanctuary. For the first time in a very long while, the halls of a Lin Kuei temple filled with voices again.

Far away from Arctika, a machine waited in darkness. A monitor flickered to life. Static rolled across it before a line of cold white text appeared.

AWAITING…

The system remained silent for several seconds. Then another message replaced it.

CONSCIOUS TRANSFER COMPLETED.

AWAITING NEW ORDERS…

WELCOME BACK, GRANDMASTER SEKTOR.

Red light ignited beneath a cybernetic visor. Sektor's eyes opened. His new body lay upon an operating table within a hidden chamber in an unknown location. Thick cables remained connected along his spine and skull while old mechanical equipment hummed around him.

Slowly, he sat upright. The shell was different. Less refined than the one Kuai Liang had destroyed, but functional for now.

That was all that mattered. Several cybernetic warriors stood around the chamber awaiting instruction. Their armour was older, heavier and far less intricate than Sektor's most recent creations. Primitive backup models stored away for an emergency that, until now, had never come.

Sektor tore one cable from the side of his neck, then another. His first words contained no confusion. “Status report.”

One of the machines stepped forward. “Primary Headquarters destroyed. Active Cyber Lin Kuei forces within the facility eliminated during self-destruct sequence. Backup transfer successful.” Sektor's hands slowly tightened. The machine continued. “Cyrax survived. Tomas Vrbada survived. Kuai Liang survived. Current whereabouts unknown.”

Sektor did not answer; the chamber remained completely silent. Then, without warning, his hand shot outward. He seized the reporting clone by the skull. Metal groaned beneath his fingers; the machine offered no resistance. Sektor crushed its head in one violent motion.

Its visor shattered; the circuits burst. The lifeless body dropped at his feet. Every trace of fury he possessed had been compressed into that single act. The remaining machines did not react.

Sektor looked down at the ruined clone. “Very well.” His voice was colder than before, but the rage underneath it remained unmistakable. “If Kuai Liang and the others have chosen to betray their duty to the Lin Kuei, then they will learn the cost of their insolence.”

He stepped away from the operating table. Somewhere inside the facility, another system awakened in response to his presence.

Sektor raised his head. “Anima.”

A calm artificial voice answered through the chamber. “I am listening, Grandmaster.”

Sektor looked toward the dormant machines surrounding him. The Cyber Initiative had fallen. Kuai Liang believed he had achieved victory; he would learn otherwise.

“Begin the Tekunin Initiative.”