Z’Unkahrah

Chapter 12: The Osk-Tekk and the Edenian Princess.

By dawn, Fenrir and Kitana had reached the outskirts of Z’Unkahrah, the Osh-Tekk capital rising ahead of them beneath a pale, amber sky. Their caravan moved with purpose, hooves striking against sunbaked stone roads that radiated the previous day’s heat. Only a handful of royal guards rode with them, alongside Syzoth, who kept slightly behind and to the side, silent as ever, his presence more felt than seen. Skarlet had gone with Mileena while Ermac remained in Sun Do with Jade under the watch of Barong and Carkas. This time, Fenrir had brought fewer blades and more expectation.

Yet the mission had not changed; Secure alliances, stabilise Outworld and prepare for war. But this time, it carried weight.

Baraka had been simple in comparison. He was direct, honest, and already leaning toward Kitana’s and, to an extent, Fenrir, this… this was different. This was Kotal.

Fenrir's gaze lingered on the city walls ahead, massive and weathered, carved with symbols that time had not fully erased. He had heard stories of the Osh-Tekk from Barong’s records; honour, discipline and strength were some of the words used to describe them…but stories were not decisions. And today, Kotal would decide.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, steadying himself. He wasn’t afraid; he was aware of where he stood in this crucial moment. If Kotal refused them… then the balance of power would shift. Centaurs, shokans, and Reiko’s loyalists would outnumber and outmatch them. They would be **** into a war they could not control.
He glanced briefly at Kitana beside him.

She rode with effortless grace, posture perfect, gaze forward and perfect beauty, but he had begun to notice the subtleties. The way her eyes tracked movement. The way her expression shifted ever so slightly depending on who spoke, who bowed, who hesitated. She didn’t just exist in these moments; she read them like a book. She surprised him more and more by the second, and to be honest with himself. He admired her.

It was such that Fenrir followed her example.

He measured the guards at the gate and counted them. Noted their stance, they were not hostile… but not welcoming either. They were disciplined, controlled and loyal while awaiting instructions.

Good…That meant Kotal was watching before even meeting them.

“Eyes on us already,” Fenrir muttered quietly.

Syzoth’s voice came low and almost serpentine from behind. “Always. The Osh-Tekk do not leave such things to chance.”

Fenrir gave a slight nod. They were being evaluated.

At the gates, a small party awaited them, armour worn but meticulously maintained, bone-clad and jade body paint hues dulled by time, yet still proud. Their leader stepped forward with a respectful bow, neither warm nor cold. It was his duty, nothing more.

“Emperor. Queen. You are expected.” No words were wasted as they were spoken deliberately and measured.

Fenrir dismounted without ceremony, handing the reins to a stable attendant while his eyes drifted, not to the guards, but beyond them… To the city.
Z’Unkahrah felt… familiar yet alien.

Stone pyramids rose in stepped layers, carved with geometric precision, yet cracks ran through them like old scars. Banners hung from their edges, faded and repaired countless times. The air carried heat, thick with the scent of incense and dust, and the sun's rays burned the ground with warmth for its people but threatened its invaders. This was the home of the people of the sun, their capital and pride.

Voices filled the streets, but not loudly. There was no bustling chaos like Earthrealm cities. Instead, there was restraint, measured movement accompanying them. People spoke in low tones, eyes lingering just a moment too long on the newcomers before looking away.

They were watching and, just like Sun Do when they first saw him, judging.

Fenrir frowned slightly as they walked. “Hmm,” he muttered under his breath. “It’s similar to a place on Earth…yet feels different.”

Kitana glanced at him, a faint, knowing look in her eyes. “How come?”

“I don’t know, it’s weird. Do you think they cook the same food?” He gave her a warm smile, and she allowed herself a chuckle and a smile under her breath.
“Unlikely.” She shook her head at his antics; she didn’t fully grasp how, but he made her smile even with the most outlandish topics.

They followed Kotal’s chancellor through the city, deeper toward the fortress. The further they walked, the more the illusion of strength gave way to truth.
Empty sections of the city, collapsed structures left untouched and statues missing limbs, faces eroded beyond recognition.

And the armour he perceived earlier was now seen in more detail; it was an old armour, one worn by guards that clearly did not belong to them originally, refitted, repainted, preserved out of respect rather than necessity.

Fenrir noticed, and it intrigued him to say the least. “Kitana,” he said quietly, leaning just slightly closer as they walked. “Why are there more Outworlders here than Osh-Tekk?”

She looked at him, not offended or surprised but impressed at his perception. “You see more than most,” she said softly. Then her gaze shifted forward again. “That is because most of them are gone.”

Fenrir's brow furrowed. “Gone… how?”

Her voice lowered further.

“They were…exterminated.”

The word landed heavier than the heat. Fenrir's steps didn’t stop, but they slowed. “…Shao Kahn.”

“Yes,” she replied, a quiet edge of bitterness threading through her composure. “When he conquered their realm, he slaughtered their leaders, Kotal’s father among them. The first war nearly broke them.”

Her eyes flicked briefly to a group of Osh-Tekk children watching from a distance before continuing. “And what remained…” she added, “was finished later under the combined ruthless leadership of Reiko and Goro. Campaigns meant not to conquer, but to erase. To ensure they were docile and loyal.”

She turned to look at Syzoth, the Zaterran kept quiet as he listened, pretending he didn’t. More than anyone here, he knew how the Osh-Tekk felt and had lost. “You know what happens once you resist after being conquered by Shao Kahn…they were lucky he was merciful. Some didn’t get that luxury.”

Fenrir's jaw tightened.

He glanced again at the city. Now he could see it, Kotal was trying to preserve what little remained. He was trying to rebuild and survive…Kotal deserved to earn respect. “How many…How many of them remain?”

“…Less than five per cent,” Kitana continued. “That is all that remains of their original people…Even fewer can control the power of the Sun like Kotal can.”
Silence settled between them for a few steps.

“And they stayed,” Fenrir said quietly.

Kitana nodded. “Because Kotal did.”

Fenrir exhaled slowly. “He rebuilt all of this?”

“As much as he could,” she said. “He rose through Shao Kahn’s ranks, not out of loyalty, but necessity. He became a general, one of his best…Only Reiko could match his prowess as a tactician. Then king of his people and protector of what little remained in honour of his father and his people.”

Fenrir's gaze hardened, not with anger, but with understanding.

“So the army…” he muttered.

“Outworlders mostly,” Kitana confirmed. “Those who serve him wear Osh-Tekk armour to honour what was lost.”

Fenrir let out a quiet breath, the weight of that settling in. “I can see why Jade likes him.”

Kitana smiled faintly at that. “That’s a luxury, believe me. It is not easy for her to give that kind of trust.”

“And do you?” he asked, glancing at her, not pressing, just… genuinely curious.

“I do,” she answered without hesitation. “Few are as loyal to their people as he is. Fewer still know when to temper strength with restraint.” Her eyes flickered toward him briefly. “If Outworld had more like him… things would have been very different.”

Fenrir studied her for a moment, then gave a small nod. “I see.”

Kitana tilted her head slightly, a playful glint breaking through her composed demeanour. “You are not jealous?”

“Of Kotal?” Fenrir raised an eyebrow, amused. “Not really. I know you save the best praise for me.”

She huffed a soft laugh, shaking her head as a smile tugged at her lips. “You are insufferable.”

“And yet,” he replied easily, “you keep choosing to walk beside me.”

“That’s a bold assumption.”

“Is it?” His tone softened, though the teasing remained. “Yesterday didn’t seem like an act of tolerance.”

The memory hit instantly. The warm water on their bodies, the hot steam imbued on them and the romantic and lustful closeness between them.
Kitana’s composure cracked just enough for a faint blush to rise to her cheeks. “You—” she started, then lowered her voice quickly, glancing around. “You should not speak of that here.”

“Why not?” he murmured, leaning slightly closer. “I thought it was a… diplomatic success.”

“Fenrir…” she tried, but the smile she was fighting betrayed her.

He watched her for a second longer, something quieter settling behind the humour. “You smiled more yesterday,” he added, softer now.

That caught her off guard.

Her steps slowed, just slightly.

“And that matters to you?” she asked, not teasing this time.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looked ahead, then back at her, more grounded than before.

“It does.” He said simply and honestly.

Kitana held his gaze for a moment longer than she should have. There was no performance in his expression. No expectation. Just sincerity.

It stirred something warm and unfamiliar.

She looked away first, though the small smile remained. “You are dangerous,” she murmured.

He smirked lightly. “I’ve been told.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Not like that.” He didn’t press, didn’t need to. “You are still annoying, though.” She added playfully, giving him a teasing yet soft slap on the cheek.

He chuckled, giving her a genuine and caring smile. “You are so cute sometimes.”

“Hey! I’m not cute. Argh! Shut up.” She strode forward, irritated but blushing. She liked him too much to be angry or annoyed at him; she liked it when she chased her.

A few moments later, as she walked away, Syzoth approached Fenrir. “I seriously can’t understand how you are doing it.”

“Neither do I, my friend, neither do I.” He answered with a loving smile while watching Kitana. She turned her head slightly, the ray of sun hitting the back of her, giving him a view that could melt anyone’s heart. And as they looked at each other, the feeling was mutual.

“Has the road been cleared?”

Kotal did not raise his voice, yet it carried through the chamber with quiet authority. He sat unmoving upon his stone-and-bone throne, fingers resting against one carved armrest as if the weight of the room itself bent toward him.

“Yes, Lord Kotal,” D’Vorah replied, her head dipping just enough to acknowledge him. “They have entered the capital; this one’s scouts ensured no interference.”
Her tone was respectful and measured, but something in the cadence lingered a fraction too long, as if each word were chosen after it was spoken to seduce Kotal to trust her above everyone else.

Erron Black shifted opposite to her, boots scraping lightly against the stone. His thumbs hooked into his belt, posture relaxed in a room that demanded anything but.

“They’re clean,” he added. “Road’s been quiet for miles. If trouble was comin’, it changed its mind.”

Kotal’s gaze flicked between them, weighing, not their words, but how they were delivered. Then he nodded once.

“What of Sheeva?” he asked. “Have we received word from the Shokan coronation?”

“This one has not,” D’Vorah answered. A slight pause between them. “But delay is… expected. The Shokan do not decide quietly.”

Erron let out a quiet breath through his nose. “That’s a polite way of saying they’re probably killing each other over it.”

Kotal leaned back slightly, his expression tightening as thought settled in. “If Goro ascends,” he said, more to the room than to them, “then we are facing two fronts.”

“And you don’t think the emperor’s forces can handle that?” Erron asked, tilting his head, tone casual, but probing. “He has proven himself after his little brawl with Reiko.”

Kotal’s eyes shifted to him, calm but firm. “I think unity in numbers wins wars, not confidence.” He allowed his words to settle. “And I think two armies united by conquest are more dangerous than one divided by pride.”

Silence followed that.

D’Vorah’s eyes flicked briefly toward the entrance. Watching and waiting.

“And who do we side with, my lord?” she asked.

Kotal did not answer immediately. Instead, he let the silence stretch controlled and deliberate before speaking.

“That,” he said, voice lower now, “will be decided today.”

As if summoned by the weight of those words, the great doors groaned open. All three turned.

Fenrir and Kitana entered side by side…Together. Kotal noticed that his gaze sharpened, not in hostility, but in interest. “She walks with him, not behind him.” He thought.

That alone told him more about where both monarchs saw each other than any report Barong had sent.

“Greetings… Emperor,” Kotal said at last, inclining his head just enough to show respect without surrender. Then his gaze shifted. “Queen Kitana.”
Erron tipped his hat. “Your Highness, Ma’am”

D’Vorah bowed lower. “This one welcomes you.”

Fenrir stepped forward, posture steady, eyes already moving and measuring the room, the distance, and the silence left between words. “Greetings, Kotal.”

Kotal studied his every move and word carefully and precisely. “Did you encounter any complications on the road?” he asked. It sounded like courtesy, but it wasn’t.
Kitana answered first, her tone composed. “None. Your men were thorough.”

Kotal’s gaze flicked briefly to Erron. “You would have to thank him,” he said. “He ensured no threats reached within miles of the capital.”

Erron gave a small shrug. “Just doing my part.”

“And D’Vorah,” Kotal continued, gesturing slightly. “She coordinated with your scouts securing the routes effectively.”

“This one serves,” D’Vorah said, her head tilting just slightly, not quite human in its precision.

Fenrir turned toward them, ready to respond, but paused. There was something about Erron that caught his curiosity first. “You’re not from Outworld,” Fenrir said, looking at Erron.

Erron smirked faintly. “No, partner. I was born in Earthrealm…a long, long time ago.”

Fenrir studied him with an amused look. “How long ago?”

Erron chuckled under his breath. “Long enough to stop countin’.”

“That would make you—”

“Older than I look?” Erron cut in lightly. “Yeah. I get that a lot.”

He raised an amused look “There is no way you are a real cowboy. You would be almost 200 years old.”

“You might be surprised, kid,” He let out a low chuckle, “looks can be deceiving.”

Kitana glanced between them, curiosity flickering across her composed expression. For her, he was just a regular Earthrealm warrior like Sonya Blade or Jackson Briggs. It was ignorant, blind and illiterate on her part not to know this…she really needed to learn more of Earthrealm history, as soon as she returned, she would get to gathering as much information as she could. If not, she would take the planned trip that she had of going to Earthrealm to study its history and culture…what made it tick so differently from Outworld and Edenia? That was one of the many questions that needed precise and detailed answers. She was sure Barong and the records would be thankful if new information were added.

Fenrir allowed a small breath through his nose, almost amused. Then his attention shifted again.

To D’Vorah.

“I don’t recall seeing your kind in any Earthrealm records,” he said. “Or the tournament.”

Kitana chuckled, seeing Fenrir trying to understand Outworld and the different species from the merged realms was…cute. He looked lost but also curious, which was something she could relate to. She was someone curious despite her calm nature; she enjoyed learning new things, and she felt…complete by doing so. That academic curiosity was one of the many things she adored that they shared.

D’Vorah met his gaze, unblinking. “This one is Kytinn,” she said. Many who encounter us… do not record what they see.” She stated respectfully, but there was a certain deceiving tone underneath that respect. Maybe he was being paranoid from being constantly attacked or threatened by his enemies…but there was something off about her.

It was understandable to feel distrustful, after all, he was staying in an alien world, but he still felt ashamed to be judging without knowing fully. Nevertheless, that feeling lingered in the back of his mind…never fully leaving him.

“Kytinn… interesting.” He thought, he heard that word before, not in Earth or Outworld…but on the Netherrealm. Perhaps he wasn’t mistaken that there was more about her that met the eye.

Fenrir held her gaze a moment longer than courtesy required. Then nodded. “I’ll make sure that changes.”

A flicker, almost imperceptible, passed through her posture.

“This one would expect nothing less… from an emperor.”

Kotal watched that exchange carefully. Then gestured forward.

“I’m glad to hear that there were no complications. But I would like to cut to the chase on where we stand. Come.”

With that command, both Erron and Dvorah allowed space for Fenrir and Kitana to approach him. He stayed put on his throne, sitting a few steps above them with presence. It wasn’t a gesture of disrespect towards them but a statement to his people to remember that only he could address them in this manner.

“What can you tell me about this… civil war?” he asked, measured and solemnly. His deep voice accompanied his imposing appearance. Indeed, Kotal was taller than Fenrir , more muscular and more imposing. Not like Goro, few could match the Shokan might, but close enough and for sure one of the most imposing generals.
Behind those muscles hid a tactical, clever and ancient mind that had already learned all the hard lessons in his youth. If Fenrir proves true as a potential leader and emperor, then he would be willing to pass on that knowledge to him.

Kotal reminded Fenrir of Barong in a way. The master spy didn’t speak much, but every word he spoke counted and carried weight and purpose. Barong's words dripped with intelligence and scholarship, while Kotal’s were similar but carried a hard-learned discipline, for what Fenrir could deduce from his insight on him was that Kotal’s father clearly taught him well and the hard way, not with cruelty but discipline to make him stronger to a harsh world that wouldn’t forgive…and Kotal never forgot those lessons.

It was no wonder to him why Jade would have a soft and respectful spot for Kotal in her mind. He was very similar to her; she was balanced, a beautiful and deadly balance, one that captured Fenrir's heart. Kotal carried something similar, one from strength and not dread, a commanding presence that demanded respect.
Both of them looked at each other, silently deciding who should answer first. Kitana gave him a warm smile, followed by a head gesture for him to take the lead.
He did as such, closing the distance with a small step. “It hasn’t been confirmed yet, but all signs are pointing to that outcome.” The emperor said, and Kotal listened profoundly in silence. “Mileena and Skarlet attended a gathering at Shang Tsung’s island.”

Kotal nodded and let out a thoughtful hum. “The same one Sheeva and I were invited to.”

“The very same.” He said, his eyes narrowing solemnly.

“We are still waiting on their report,” Kitana added. “By tomorrow, we should know more.”

Kotal considered that and gave a low hum. “And Baraka?”

“Baraka and the Tarkatans have pledged their loyalty,” Fenrir said. “Most of the military has as well. Several settlements, too. Those loyal to Shao Kahn are either hiding or siding with Reiko.”

Kotal’s expression hardened slightly. “Then the realm is already splitting.” Kotal absorbed that, pondering on it, trying to think of all the possible variables and outcomes. “I’m pleased to hear we are not alone,”

Kitana and Fenrir smiled, hearing him address the three of them as “we”. Maybe he has chosen to kneel to their reign and fight alongside them for a better Outworld. “What about the Shokans? I suppose you are aware of the most recent news.”

“We are,” Fenrir answered solemnly. “And we have come to a decision.”

Kitana stepped in. “The four of us believe that Goro under no circumstances should become king.” Kitana’s gaze slid to him, proud but silent.

“He only sees conquest,” Fenrir continued, “and that old way of thinking is exactly what Outworld is trying to move beyond.”

Kotal’s face remained composed, but there was approval there now, faint and unmistakable. “Do not mistake Goro for a mindless beast,” he said. “He is more dangerous than that. He can be cunning when motivated.”

Fenrir nodded. “I know.”

Kotal stepped closer, looking at him as though trying to measure whether the answer had come from thought or impulse. “Then what is your solution?”
Fenrir and Kitana exchanged a glance. It was quick, but Kotal saw it. So did Erron and D’Vorah.

Fenrir took the lead. “Sheeva,” he said.

Kotal’s eyes shifted slightly.

“We believe she should lead the Shokan,” he continued. “She has the discipline and intelligence for it. More than that, she understands the difference between strength and slaughter.”

Kotal nodded with an approving grin. He raised an eyebrow, looking at Kitana. “Did this decision come from you, my queen?”

Kitana chuckled. “Believe it or not, general, this is all his.”

Kotal looked again at Fenrir with the same grin “You keep surprising me, Fenrir.” Kotal’s expression deepened into something like a test not yet finished. “And if you are wrong?”

Fenrir met the question head-on. “Then we face a worse war.”

Kotal held the silence for a moment after that, letting it sit between them. Fenrir did not move. He could feel the room waiting for him to soften, or flinch, or over-explain. He did none of those things.

“If Goro rules,” Fenrir said quietly, “then the Shokan become a weapon again. If Sheeva rules, we may be able to keep them as a society and nation of Outworld.”
“And if the centaurs reject her?” Kotal asked.

“Then they lose the excuse to call this a noble conflict,” Fenrir replied. “If they want war after that, it will be for pride alone. Besides that, it would be foolish and a waste of lives and resources. They can’t defeat the shokans in battle, and they know it.”

A faint, approving grin touched Kotal’s mouth. “And the Tarkatans?”

“They fight because they believe Outworld finally has a chance to be something else,” Fenrir said. “That matters.”

Kotal nodded once. “It does.” Kotal listened closely to what he said, judging yet enjoying listening to him. He sounded like a leader, an Emperor. “With the tarkatans and our forces, we can overcome Reiko’s loyalists, and I believe that as soon as they see our armies unified by loyalty, they will change their minds about us as emperor and queens.”

Kotal chuckled deeply. “They will bow to you and surrender.”

“They won’t have another choice or chance to do so.” Fenrir answered solemnly, “We will find a way to deal with those who refuse…it’s most likely with the new prisoner reforms and Lei Chen reconstruction that they will be sent to prison, and if their crimes are too high, they will be executed if there’s no other choice.”
Then his expression tightened slightly. “What about the sorcerer? Have you made your decision on what to do with him when the time comes?”

“That would be seen in the heat of combat,” Fenrir answered, matching his tone. “I want to imprison him and have him be sent to Raiden so the elder gods can decide his punishment. The sorcerer, throughout his lifetime, has done more than enough damage to face judgment.”

“And why don’t you take that decision?” He asked, but Kitana didn’t say anything; she was also surprised and intrigued by this course of action being taken regarding Shang Tsung. She would love for him to be executed…he had it coming a long time ago. He was the definition of a soulless monster, and Shao Kahn's most loyal servant; everything that the last emperor did, every crime, every life taken, Shang Tsung was right behind it.

“Perhaps I should, after all, I’m the emperor now, and he will answer for his crimes.” He looked at both of them. “I will judge him, and he will receive a punishment. But you mustn’t forget he’s an earthrealmer as well, and for his crimes across the realms, he will answer to the elder gods first. If the decision chosen doesn’t appeal to both parties, then Raiden and I will decide on what to do with him.”

Kotal studied him for a long time after that. His eyes moved over Fenrir's face, his stance, his tone, reading him the way a veteran reads an enemy line. When he finally spoke, there was a slight narrowing to his gaze, but it was not distrust. It was something heavier.

“You sound like an emperor,” he said.

Kitana’s smile turned quietly proud. “You would be surprised, Kotal. He has been sounding like one for some time.”

Fenrir let out a breath he had not realised he was holding.

Kotal’s gaze shifted to Kitana. Then back to Fenrir with a proud smile, “I can see.”

He turned slightly and gave a small gesture to one of his guards. “Your rooms will be prepared. I would ask you to remain in the fortress for dinner.”
Fenrir and Kitana exchanged one brief look, and that look carried more ease than words would have. They had become good at that lately, reading each other by small signs, by the angle of a mouth, by the shape of a pause.

Fenrir turned back to Kotal and bowed his head. “We would be honoured.”

Kotal returned the nod. “Good. Then tonight we speak further.”

As they were guided from the throne room, Erron muttered under his breath, “Well. That went better than I figured.”

D’Vorah watched the departing monarchs in silence, her head tilted slightly, her stillness almost unnatural. Then, after a moment, she followed Kotal’s gaze back toward the doors.

This one believed much had already been decided…yet there was still a task she needed to fulfil.