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“Are you certain this must be done, Lord Raiden?” Liu Kang’s eyes, glowing with divinity, are even now filled with uncertainty and trepidation. The involvement of Shang Tsung in the Mortal Kombat tournaments—only recently established by the fire god himself, in absence of elder gods to oppose him—strikes Liu Kang as a foolhardy strategy and an unnecessary risk. Raiden raises a hand and then gestures to the hour glass. Within it, an image swirls of the well of souls—or the place where it might be, but is not yet—and then the face of the greedy sorcerer.
“Yes, I am, Lord Liu Kang,” responds the former thunder deity, an amused smile upon his worn but still handsome face. Gentle, eyes of a deep blue observe his student of years past, watching the way he has begun to carry himself, with more sureness and authority as befits his position. Still, the mention of Shang Tsung brings a shudder to the man’s stout spine. “Shang Tsung is… a fulcrum in the multiverse. He must always host the tournament. I know of no other place in earthrealm that is more suited—the veil between realms is especially thin there—”
“Which is why he chose it in the first place, for his accursed well of souls!”
“In another time, yes,” responds Raiden, brows knitting, “but it appears that all the Shang Tsung of this timeline can sense is that there is power here. And he must compete in the first tournament. Doing so will cement his interest in the affairs of other realms.”
“And what is to stop him regaining his old ambitions?” Liu Kang’s mouth is drawn in a thin line as he, too, considers the hourglass. Raiden touches his chest where once Shinnok’s hateful amulet had been pinned, in a different life, though for a god it is all the same, even if his waking mind does not recall it.
“I will stop him,” Raiden says simply. Liu Kang stiffens.
“No,” he snaps, then softens almost instantly as he turns to face his old friend. “Raiden… you… you cannot leave me.”
“I must , Lord Liu Kang, if not now, to do this thing, then later, upon my death. I am mortal now.”
Liu Kang hates the way his title sounds coming from Raiden’s mouth—Raiden, the mighty god of thunder, protector of earthrealm, fatally fond of his mortal friends, who sacrificed his divinity to avert many crises, to save Liu Kang’s life, to save all of existence, he who had once adorned himself with the mantle and mask of aloof, duty-bound sternness. Now there is an open warmth in that face and the grim set of a man with but one task left.
“Why?”
The question rings between them in the roaring silence of the keep at the dawn of time, too full of meaning to fit in the single syllable it occupies, but doing so nevertheless, a super-dense piece of thought that is more akin to the fabled “god particle” of earthrealm physics than anything yet discovered.
“I must atone,” answers the former deity, his eyes once more watching the hourglass with interest. Liu Kang’s hand finds Raiden’s shoulder and he squeezes. The question is clear, though unspoken. ‘For what?’
“There is so much I have done… so many choices I have made,” begins Raiden, “the consequences of which no longer exist, but which I will remember for the rest of my days… and he is the greatest among those for which and, by extension, to whom I must make recompense…”
“Shang Tsung?” Liu Kang is shocked, feeling his core, even now, slamming with the anxiety that name naturally produces in anyone who has ever had the extreme misfortune of crossing paths with the snake-like sorcerer. “Surely you joke, Lor—Raiden.”
“Rarely have I been known to jest, Lord Liu Kang, least of all with regards to Shang Tsung,” replies Raiden, shaking his head. “You must know by now that the Great Kung Lao was not Earthrealm’s first champion.”
Liu Kang nods. “Yes, I know—Shang Tsung was the first and he won via deceit and treacherous sorcery.” The words are caustic as they leave the fire god’s lips, his eyes flashing. “And for that, the Elder Gods punished him—Raiden we all know that story. It is why we do not speak of him in the same breath as the Great Kung Lao.”
“And yet…” Raiden gestures in a ‘here we are’ manner and continues. “As protector of Earthrealm, it was my duty to choose the representative champion. That he occupied the mystical island and had made his fortress thereupon it was fortuitous, I thought, in my hubris—”
“A god cannot experience hubris, teacher.”
“You are yet young and you forget how many lifetimes I have not only lived, but also remember… A god can experience hubris, perhaps in more ways than even a mortal might do. But I digress… I chose Shang Tsung for his strength and cunning, knowing that allowing Outworld to gain even the semblance of a hold in Earthrealm would signal the death of peace in that realm. Edenia had already fallen and it was to prevent this happening to your home, Lord Liu Kang, that I made the decision I did.”
“Then it was no mistake for which you need atone!” Liu Kang’s mind, divine as it might now be, is racing about, grasping at anything that might keep the former god at his side. He cannot imagine eternity in this place, alone. He will, he is certain, be able to have congress of some sort with Raiden and his former friends—if they remember him—but in his mind, there is something awful and final about Raiden fully handing the “reins” of the universe over to him. I must consult a former god, he thinks to himself with mirthless humor.
“Shang Tsung did as any viper might do, that which is only in his nature to do… The Elder Gods were punishing me , not Shang Tsung. The irony of their manufacturing their own, ultimate end… ah, but perhaps they knew that, too.” Raiden’s tone is bitter, making it very clear that he had been privy to very little of the thoughts of those esteemed Elder Gods.
“Why…?” Again, that same question, softer this time. Liu Kang knows Raiden is allowing him much deeper into that old mind of his than anyone else has ever been, or perhaps will ever be.
“My second act of defiance against the Elder Gods,” said Raiden and, before Liu Kang could ask what the first was, he added, “in addition to the affront of refusing to take my brother’s autonomy and become the Storm god.”
Liu Kang eyed him curiously, his face that of the young man Raiden had “favored” with his choice and trained as Chosen One of Earthrealm. The parallels to Shang Tsung were many, but this one sat poorly in the former monks mind, moreso than the others.
“Lord Fujin,” whispered Liu Kang. “He… and you?”
“We were to have been one—our offense was to be born twins; my act of rebellion was to fight for our autonomy, nothing more or less. This, they let slide, in their way, though I… sometimes believe they sought to overburden me, that I might see the error of my ways. I did not. I will not.” His laughter is low, like distant thunder, but somehow oddly uplifting in this empty space of pure creation, promising movement and change. Chaos.
“I’m sure Lord Fujin has no complaints about that decision,” Liu Kang supplied, a smile on his face as well. Raiden nods.
“He may have a few, but certainly not about that.”
“But what could you have done that might cause the Elder Gods to curse Shang Tsung, of all people! Surely they knew what would happen!”
“Perhaps they did,” Raiden admits, considering this possibility for the second time in their conversation. It is twice too many and rankles in his formerly ageless mind. “But my transgression was not so cosmic as refusing to take the autonomy of a fellow god… Or maybe it was more than that. Either way, it was deemed forbidden.”
The quietude is long between them as they both stand, contemplating the beginning of all things, and the end—all the ends—that they have seen. Raiden reaches out and grasps Liu Kang’s upper arm, squeezing it tightly a moment before retracting and folding both hands before him. Liu Kang recognizes this gesture as one of protection. It worries him. He is afraid Raiden may stop, so he follows the strands of the web his most trusted advisor and mentor is weaving to its next logical gyre.
“You… loved him,” guesses Liu Kang, without meeting Raiden’s eyes. The very idea of Lord Raiden, god of thunder and protector of Earthrealm, feeling anything but disgust or contempt for the soul-thieving sorcerer, Shang Tsung, is beyond his comprehension, yet the pause before Raiden’s response tells him all and more.
“I did.” Raiden nods, solemnly. “But he… never knew.”
“And you think that by guiding him in this first tournament, as you chose and guided the Great Kung Lao, and myself, you will… ensure some other, more positive outcome?” Now Liu Kang is thinking like a god and Raiden cannot be more proud of him. But that is not… QUITE the solution Raiden has in mind.
“I have already done this. It was I, you recall, who chose him. As such, I was something of a… presence in his life, during the time leading up to the tournament.” Raiden pauses, thinking about how best to continue. “I influenced him, as one might expect, but I… it was forbidden, you understand.”
“What of the late Lord Argus of Edenia, and of Rain, his son with a mortal woman?” Liu Kang feels a pang of sadness on behalf of the old thunder god, and more than a bit of rage. The fire wreathing his body flares up. Raiden takes note. “He produced many offspring, not all divine. How is this…”
“Argus’s union was indeed fruitful, Lord Liu Kang.”
Once more, the silence stretches between them and the rest of eternity. Liu Kang flexes his fingers and curls powerful hands into destructive fists. He knows it is too late to take out his frustration upon the architects of their seemingly sempiternal sadness, but he thinks, perhaps, they are better off without the half-absent Elder Gods, who have never lived as mortals and do not understand how to love as mortals.
“You were always said to be… aloof, Raiden, and… preoccupied with cosmic matters,” says the new god of fire and thunder, turning toward Raiden and grasping his hands. Without thinking, Liu Kang pulls Raiden close and holds him tightly, in the same way Raiden had grasped his revenant and granted him his divinity. In a flash, he transfers the former thunder god’s sparks back into him in a decision which surprises Raiden, something Liu Kang has not often seen, though it is always the result of an Earthrealmer’s actions.
“I know better,” Liu Kang continues, speaking into Raiden’s shoulder, “and if you believe your returning to Shang Tsung is the proper course of action, you will do so as my emissary and not unarmed.”
“Lord Liu Kang, I cannot accept this gift.”
“It is no gift. This has always been yours and it will remain yours until your mortal life returns it to me.” To punctuate this finality, he pulls away and crosses his arms over his chest to make the point.
Raiden pauses, then puts one open palm over a closed fist and bows deeply, the hat obscuring his features and most of his upper body. Liu Kang has grown fond of this view, appreciating perhaps more than anyone else the humility it represents.
“I will not fail.”
“I know you won’t. You never have.”