Mortal Kombat: Revelation

Just a MKA fanfic I started, and will work on. An idea I got from chatting with GG… and thanks for editing, buddy.

Well, enjoy… and don’t kill me.

Prologue: Blaze of Destruction.

100 years….

That’s how long ago it all happened. What everyone here calls the Final Kombat, the Blaze of Armageddon. The last unknown battle, the strongest fighters the realms produced, clashing for a prize no one really knew about, fighting a fiery automaton that ended up causing that he wanted, in his created heart, to stop.

It was during that final heated battle, that macabre game of King of the Mountain, that the bloodlust of everyone there, their overwhelming passion for combat boiled over, and in their attempts to reach the top, fighting friends and foes to climb, that they met their end. No honorable duel, no glorious battle. Just the mother of all brawls, and a pyramid surrounded by corpses.

But, it didn’t end there, like those that were once called Elder Gods planned. The creature known as Blaze, meant to be the final wall against the wave of destruction, found himself alone, and with power he did not know how to use. With no further purpose, no outlet for his artificial rage and programmed wrath, he self-destructed, believing he had no further use.

But, if it was the constant fighting between the fallen warriors that caused the walls between the realms to weaken, it was this suicidal act that shattered them. In the resulting explosion, worlds once separated by ethereal walls, and held in place by mystical powers collided, the nails holding them in place now removed.

And, in one brief, yet violent night, hell literally broke loose.

Outworld and Edenia, the eternal enemies, found themselves fused, the borders of their worlds crumbling down, as their realms were forced into one. Soon, Earthrealm followed, violently colliding into both, the tremors and continental shifts causing death and rapid destruction on all sides. And, it kept coming. Chaosrealm, Orderrealm, even a world of vampires, attached themselves to the growing landmass, nothing holding them back. And, when it all seemed over, two final lands joined, ones that we never expected, and never wanted. Heaven, and the Netherrealm. The worlds of angels… and devils.

Any wars between races, any political or clan loyalties were erased, with this sudden convergence of blessed and tormented souls. Like moths drawn into each other’s flames, good and evil flew into each other, screams of undead rage filling the air, and soon the sky was filled with the visceral images of skeletal forms, some encased in infernal fires, others cloaked in a holy glow. It seems, even in death, the kombatants would face each other.

The ones still alive from the fusion were caught in the cross fire over this Soul War, and all we could do, be it Edenian, Lin Kuei, White Lotus, or Shoakan, was seek shelter, and wait out this storm.

A storm that lasted for 100 years, for how can battles end if both sides are already dead. All of us, despite our pasts, despite our disputes, sought shelter underground, forced together like this new world, which we named Realm. All of us looking outside, and waiting. Waiting, be it from a new hero, or even the long-silent gods, for our hope.

For a Revelation.

Chapter One: The Thinning Blood of Heros

Chill, by the Elder’s strength, stop preening yourself, and get moving!”

The deep growling caught the attention of the young man, who turned away from his own reflection, wiry gray-blue hair staying in place, only shifting slightly. He just grinned, lazily, with no sign of any care or concern. “Aw, come off it, Big Al. You never know when some beau….”

“STOP CALLING ME AL!” The caravans shook with the violence of the roar, as Chill’s companion, a four-armed man who looked strong enough -and almost angry enough- to rip the limbs off his smaller friend. “For the last time, call me Algor! Show some respect, for once in your life.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… blood of the Lin Kuei, noble blood of the Shokans. Stop dealing in the past, bro. You know none of that matters now. We’re just two, strong, good looking guys.” Chill adjusted the dark blue scarf covering his lower face, looking at his friend with a devil may care attitude, his care-free attitude showing up in his dark blue eyes.

The Shokan, Algor, just sighed, and shook his head, completely shaved except for the ponytail leading down to his waist. “If our mother was not the same, I would have ripped your torso in half years ago. Why, for once, can’t you be more like her?”

Chill grinned, the smile obvious behind the makeshift mask over his mouth. “Hey, you know I would’ve saved you like she did. Taken you in, all that. I’m not cold, Four-Arms, just cold-blooded.”

“And hot-headed, and always in heat! How can you call yourself a cyromancer… ACK!”
Algor quickly found himself pelted with small ice pellets, fired quickly from Chill’s fingers… the extent of his ability. In the past, legends told of ninjas skilled in the art of cold capable of freezing a man alive, rendering him helpless. Now, all their successor could manage was shooting playful pellets. Indeed, the mighty have fallen, his natural ability limited to playful taunting.

The young man laughed again, and folded his arms behind his head, walking past his friend and adoptive brother, ignoring the disapproving glare of the Shokan. Honestly, he liked the huge guy, but he needed to relax. All this talk of honor, of lineage….it was just a bunch of fools clinging to a past that would never come back. Why couldn’t they face the future? The fact they were held hostage by the fighting of said lineage? Man, these people were stupid… there was nothing left, just silly pointless games, a dying flame… and himself being the final flicker.

Chill shook his head, and continued on. Algor and himself were supposed to be training, but he decided to skip… again, it was pointless. When you get down to it, that was the truth about everything, so might as well do what you can to enjoy yourself now, before you die.

Chill shook his head, and kept walking.

Elsewhere, yet still there, he awoke. He felt… yes, he was complete… but, fragmented. Like pieces of a puzzle, not yet in… but close. He and they were one, but not… something was holding them back.

He thought, and found it. A piece… of his food, his jailers, remained, preventing his completion… somewhere within him. He needed help… he could not reach it himself… he was not fully whole.

There was fighting within him… the damned and the blessed. Maybe, amongst them… he can find help. He looked within, and found four amongst the tortured.

One, chaos’s strongest supporter. A holy man of insanity.

One, putrid while still strong, flesh decaying, flies swarming, but carrying an Oni’s strength.

Another practically a monster, a constant companion to the putrid one. Forever fighting, violence its only reason to survive.

And a fourth, forever vengeful, always angry at someone, seeking to destroy one person, no matter the cost.

These four would complete him… and he would be one again.

The One Being.

Not bad, PC. Especially since I think I just figured out how the hell the plot in MKA works…which is a clear sign of insanity. Well, good luck with this fic.

Second helping please.

And another chapter, made during the slow periods of work. I hope you enjoy, and some action next chapter!

Chapter 2: The End of Training.

“Come on, you pansy! You call yourself a fighter? At this pace, you’re going to get creamed by a slug!” The irritating insults, over and over. Chill didn’t hate his mother, but that constant nagging and drills… ugh, he was beginning to wish he DID have full Lin Kuei powers, just to freeze her mouth shut.

He continued his laps around the “village”, mostly consisting of several hollowed out sections of rock, leftover from some ancient mining operation, and inhabited by various races; four-armed Shokan like Algor, pig-faced tarks, and humans, like himself. Other dwellers gazed to look at the young warrior running his punishment laps, an extra twenty, but quickly returned to their business, not paying much mind to the typical scene. Chill had a reputation as a flirt and troublemaker, despite his mother’s strict regiment.

Mom was a fighter, but not of the line of famed cryomancers. His father was the ice warrior, but died while scavenging the surface for food, two months before his only son was born. Since then, she swore to raise her son in the proud traditions of the Lin Kuei, no matter the cost. Unfortunately, it seems some things could not be bought.

He finished lap eighteen, and saw Algor undergoing his own training, working on his body strength. The Shokan was still young in the eyes of his people, despite his maturity compared to his adopted brother, and treated as such by all except humans, who had shorter life spans, and thus reached their corresponding stages of growth a lot quicker. Hell, Chill knew, deep down, that his stern and strict attitude was just a farce, a desire to fit in and maintain the illusion of adulthood. To gain some respect.

Chill snuck a smile underneath his scarf, and continued his jog. But, his mother was aware of that expression, and rewarded him with a quick strike on the back. “What are you smiling about, you spineless excuse for a warrior? You think this is funny? An extra five laps!”

Chill sighed, and refocused his attention on the run. Mom was a respected fighter, and defended the village against Oni, mortal yet strong demons from the Netherworld, since she was eighteen. Hence, she developed a military life for herself, and her children. Chill often wondered if his father didn’t get himself killed on purpose.

Still, she had her soft side; she just didn’t like to show it. After all, she was the one who saved Algor when he was a younger Shokan, in a more child-like form, nine years ago; adopting him when she learned his parents died only moments before, after defending their son from a surprise demon strike. A very compassionate act on her part, for even though they were forced together, the different races still kept to themselves.

Not that she would admit such to anyone, especially her ‘sorry excuse of a son’. Chill just sighed, and just endured it. It was hard arguing with her, best just to endure it, and finish what she assigned. Even though, he was still unsure of the point.

The only threat they faced was an occasional demon, and even then, there was only one or two at a time, usually stragglers from the war with the denizens from heaven realm. And, everyone here had the muscle. They didn’t train like his mother, Algor and himself, but they developed their physique by enduring this life. To him, it seemed this obsession with training was overkill.

But, his train of thought, and his laps were soon interrupted, by screams of terror, followed by a loud, sudden series of short quakes. A short boom, followed by silence, and another boom. Chill knew what that meant… but, this one sounded like a giant. And, considering his best friend was from a race of multi-armed titans, that meant more then usual.

But, he let such thoughts pass as he ran toward the source with his mother and other warriors. Time to at least put all this work to some purpose.

He felt them. Many beings, part of him. Independent, but controllable. But, they were many, and desperate. His food could use them, stop his completion. He could not let that happen.

He sent the giant Oni out, infused and with his will. He would prevent any obstructions, any threats. The parasites needed cleansing; least they destroy him from within.

He turned elsewhere, looking for the splinter preventing the rebuilding.

What do you know… a fight scence, in a Mortal Kombat fic!

Thanks again to GG for editing, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter Three: Demonic Rage.

The small group of fighters reached the mouth of the cave, arranging themselves in a half-circle, preparing to intercept this giant threat, locked in varying combat stances. And, after what seemed like an eternity, it showed itself, crashing down through the cave’s ceiling: A bulking gray mass, hunched over, like a gorilla, but covered in ashen frog-like skin, with slightly glowing yellow eyes, wielding a giant iron ball as big as a Shokan’s head on a chain as a weapon.

The small army did not hesitate. Some unleashed powerful projectiles, using their chi to form weapons of fire, lightning, or pure energy. While the rest rushed in to use close combat attacks, preparing to send this threat back to the Netherrealm. Oni attacks were not uncommon, and dealt with in a similar fashion. Though, not many were this HUGE.

But, even though they did not show it, the ranged fighters were shocked by the monster’s resistance. They quickly joined the melee, but their eyes widened when the giant grabbed a tark by his head, and slammed him against two human warriors, sending the three flying into the wall with a sickening thud. And they showed fear when the beast(?), with his free hand, RIPPED both left arms from a towering Shokan, and proceeded to beat another oncoming fighter with them.

Five defenders attempted to jump-kick him from behind, simultaneously, but the mindless demon instinctively evaded by rolling backwards, sending his ambushers reeling. Other fighters tried to surround him, to get him from all angles. But that was countered when the creature slammed his ball into the ground, sending a shockwave knocking everyone off their feet, even those that were used to such attacks, like the Shokan and those that trained with them.

The monster, like a raging bull, charged into the crowd, ramming through the wall of flesh, holding his weapon out first, a metallic clang resounding with every skull it hit, and puddles of red appearing from underneath him. The deadly Oni then released a loud roar, shaking the caverns with his voice, just in time to greet a second wave of warriors, including Chill, his mother, and Algor.

Without hesitating, and without looking at the carnage surrounding him, Chill rushed in, attempting a kick at the brutal form. He only got a face full of hard demon fist for his troubles, and found himself knocked against a stone wall. His impulsive charge did momentarily distract the monstrosity, and the more seasoned fighters took a chance, and struck at once.

Their combined blow managed to knock the beast to the ground, but he retaliated with a swing of the ball, and those around him were sprawled all over the area. Chill’s mother managed to recover more quickly then the others, and quickly rushed toward the invader, retaliating with an uppercut that seemed to be sheathed in flame. That caught the monster off guard, but any attempt to use that advantage was squelched by a quick jab from the beast, knocking the woman back on the ground, leaving her at his mercy.

Chill managed to recover, and quickly saw the plight of his mother. Eyes widened, he forgot his own injury and quickly fired off a blast of ice. Knowing the small pellets couldn’t do anything, he was hoping they could at least distract him. When they hit his target, the monster only turned, and gave a guttural laugh, before attempting to bring down his ball.

But, it was his turn to be caught by surprise when he found its progress stopped by Algor, forcing his weight against the monster’s. Silently nodding a thank-you to his friend, Chill jumped forward, hoping to land a devastating blow on the Oni. Instead, he got a sudden counter-attack.

With the young Shokan still holding on to the heavy orb, trying to prevent it from crushing his adoptive mother, its wielder retaliated with a mighty swoop, sending the four-armed warrior right into Chill, laughing evilly as they collided with each other. Chill’s mother tried to escape, but only received a harsh kick for her efforts, sending her next to her sons, and breaking her leg on the landing.

Algor quickly went to check on her, while Chill started facing the monster, being a little more careful this time, watching his enemy’s movements, waiting for an opening. He seemed to have one when the beast’s weapon move back, but hesitated once he saw where it was going: His best friend and mother.

He yelled a warning, but only gave Algor enough time to look behind him, right into the metal orb of death. But, he was not to die today. At the last minute, her arms and one leg still working, Chill’s mother tackled into her adoptive son, her impressive strength more then enough to knock the young giant over, and take his place in the afterlife.

The ball hit the female warrior, and carried her against the wall, shacking the caverns with a loud thud, leaving a huge crack in the wall, filled in with blood and surrounding a broken skeleton, with skin and internal organs surrounding it. The remains of a brave combatant, Chill’s mother.

Chill himself just stared wide-eyed at the bloody smear, and at the monster, who seemed to reveal in cracking the walls. His opponents had fallen, except for a stunned Chilled, and a stern-faced Algor, whom he seemed to ignore, as he attacked the ceiling, walls, floor, yelling like a madman.

It was Algor who noticed what he was doing, and even then, he was too late. “Chill! Snap out of it! The caves are going to collapse! We have to get out!” But, his friend was long gone, entranced by sadness, despair and panic. All he could do was fall to his knees, and stare at the bloody memorial to his parent. Algor sighed, and just picked up his foster brother, hurrying to carry him out of the cave, praying to the Elders the Oni did not follow.

The colony of parasites had been eliminated. A couple survived, but the rest of him, or other parasites, should take care of them. They were small and weak, not prepared for living on him.

He would continue with his main goal: finding the shard containing his food, and complete the fusion already started.

Bet you thought I abandoned this? HAH! Not likely.

Anyway, just some filler on our warrior’s surroundings. More action next chapter. I promise.

Chapter Four: The World of Life and Death

A cold air, tinged with death and carrying the scent of blood finally snapped Chill to attention, and he found himself surrounded by a crawling jungle, vines and broad-leafed trees covering rocks and ruins, as nature reclaimed what was once hers. The sky was blocked the dense canopy of trees, and the sun only managed a few stray rays. In the distance, an ever present wailing of death was heard, a terrifying hint at the souls of Heavenrealm and Netherrealm still fighting it out.

Chill, recovering from the remnants of shock, turned toward Algor, who was sitting in the shade of several trees, resting. When he felt the stare of his friend, he stirred toward activity, and rose to his full height, stretching and yawning. “So you finally snapped out of it. Now come, lets go… we need to find food.”

The calmness of the Shokan, so soon after Chill lost his mother, his village, and his life made the young warrior snap, and he ripped into his four-armed friend, the sadness, the anger forcing out of him. “You cold-hearted bastard! We just lost our freaking homes, you fucking monster! You want to eat, even though a damn Oni crushed my mom like a bug? What the hell is wrong with you, you hell sent piece of tark shi…”

Algor responded with a quick slap from his upper right hand, snapping the young Lin Kuei out of his ramblings. “Listen, Chill. Your mother was the closest thing I had to a mother as well. But, do you think she would want us to stand around in mourning? If she could hear you now, I know she would be pounding you silly.”

That wasn’t an exaggeration. His mom usually DID punish him with a series of well-placed blows. To be expected, really. His mother was training him to be a fighter, after all. Chill took a few deep breaths, regaining his usual arrogant posture. He still stung from the Oni attack, but deep down knew going back for revenge would only get him killed. That monster… was something else. “All right, my Shokan Overlord, what the hell do we do now?”

Algor turned, and strode deeper into the forest. “We need to find some food and shelter. We have no way of knowing when this area will become a battlefield.” Chill followed, nodding. While it was true souls were like ghosts, and couldn’t directly hurt humans, they had other ways of causing trouble, like possessing a mortal body, if the host was caught unaware, or if they had a weak will. And some of those souls had magical abilities, able to summon fireballs or a holy rain. And those hurt both living and dead.

Besides, it was more then just freed souls fighting. Oni from Netherrealm usually joined with the evil souls, reveling in the destruction and chaos. And while Angels, the servants and native residents of Heavenrealm, tried to hold them back, they were just too plentiful. Oni, apart from being created infernally, were also born from evil human souls filled with wrath and hatred, while angels were natives to their world, and just created out of substance. And, thanks to the harshness of the new Realm, wrath and hatred were in endless supply.

Chill hurried after his friend, trying not to think of the future.

He waited. Watching his chosen four, and his entirety. Everything was in motion. It was only a matter of time before he was whole.

Yes! I succeeded in reading another fic! (I’m not kidding, folks, for some reason I find it hard to do it these days. I think I have a mental block from the stress I had writing my last fic… but I’ll be damned if I’ll stay like this forever. I will force myself to read AND write fics again. I WILL!)

Ahem Let’s get back to the story.

I must admit that I’m sligthly lost, but then again I stopped following the MK storyline with the third game. I mean, really, how far can they stretch it? But I like this post-apocalypse/merged worlds concepts. And I like the character of Chill, and his relationship with his half-brother. (I’m assuming these are concepts you made up, PC.) If not, well, the story is good anyway. An evil composite creature, trying to re-form? Good one; can’t wait to see who makes it up. And as usual, your prose is great, perhaps the best of all of us, PC. Your stories read like actual novels; perhaps you’ve read more of them than I have. We all have our writing influences- comics are mine. Ka-pow! :smiley:

Please continue, PC. I promise I will continue to read the story, if I have to tie myself to the computer to do it! And coming soon, new fics from Wilfredo. Thought I might start with short pieces… ease myself into it.

Praise from Wil… this must be better then I thought.

I mean it, praise from you means a lot, Wilfredo. But, to answer your questions: Chill and Algor are my chars, yes. But, the composite being should be familar if you played Deception, and the idea for the apocolypse… well, the last game WAS called Armageddon. And, since it seemed the purpose was to have everyone die… everyone did.

Anyway, enjoy the introduction of a couple of new characters. Next time, a fight scence, and some more backstory afterwards! And thanks GG, for editing

Chapter Five: Manifestations of Life and Death

They continued through the thick foliage, using well-placed chops and brute strength to cut through the natural barriers in their way. Vines, webs, fallen trees… it seemed the plant life was trying to form a natural prison, keeping human intruders at bay. Not the most effective prison, but the claustrophobic feeling remained.

And, despite their green surroundings, nothing was safe to eat. While most who studied plants were lucky to return with their lives, and even thankful to keep their remaining limbs, there were some rules that could be followed. Namely, berries in a cluster or of a white or green appearance were deadly, while most berries in the shape of raspberries or strawberries were, for the most part, safe. Unfortunately, green and white seemed to be the “in” thing for nature’s fashion.

But, plenty of flora did mean plenty of fauna, even if the new conditions allowed for some giant, fearless beasts to flourish, like the Skull Rat from what was Outworld, named not for its appearance, but for its prey… skulls of any species.

But, in a word of kill or be killed, taste didn’t make a difference, and even warriors like Chill, who focused much of his attention on looks, girls, and skipping class, could quickly digest vermin if he needed to. Which is why he didn’t say anything when Algor brought a handful of the carnivorous rodents, and didn’t mention the cuts and scratches on the giant’s skull… even though he was scratching his own head while they roasted on the newly made fire.

They ate in silence, neither of them sure what to say, or what to do… no plans beyond moving, and surviving. But, as he finished his share of the rodent, Chill knew they could not keep it up. Sooner or later, the wild or the Soul War would wipe them out. There were no words of other survivors outside their underground village, not that the world outside the shelter was known. Death had a way of scaring explorers.

But a pungent odor interrupted his meal, the smell of a rotting corpse behind him. He would of dismissed it as another casualty, if it wasn’t for one thing… the sudden sound of flies. Chill knew corpses often attracted different varieties of insects, but they took time to collect. They didn’t just appear out of nowhere. This was odd…

He turned to Algor, who silently nodded, and stood up slowly, getting in a combat position. Chill did the same, looking in the same direction. It seemed the Shokan had found it odd as well. And, to make matters even more puzzling, the sound was getting steadily louder, but still far too quick for a natural swarm. It sounded like it was getting closer.

The two warriors steeled their nerves, waiting… waiting for the decaying corpse to show itself. Judging from the sound of now lumbering footprints, it sounded like it was getting closer, and it sounded very, very strong.

But, so focused on this present threat, they failed to see a flash of white behind them, appearing in a glowing green mist, revealing a brown-haired woman, dressed in a formal white outfit, modified to be suited to fighting, but retaining its modest shape. She turned toward where the warriors were facing, and nodded, drawing out a silvery sword, and quickly charging toward the approaching monster.

The unexpected appearance of this woman, heading toward their approaching enemy, and directly attacking it, snapped the two men out of their focused stance. They looked on as she dived into the foliage where the sound of flies was approaching, The sound of metal on metal was heard… two weapons clanging against each other in combat. But, the sounds of battle were interrupted by the women being returned, flying backward from the trees, and only a few feet from the surprised descendant of the Lin Kuei.

Chill knelt down, and took a closer look at the knocked out warrior, making sure she was all right, and couldn’t help but notice, despite the sword, her elegant beauty… her face was as smooth and delicate as china, but maintained a firm and strong expression… her black hair was cut in a conservative style, and only shoulder length, but it still looked soft and silky. And even though she was knocked out, it still looked like she was peaceful and calm, almost like she was merely sleeping…

“CHILL, WOULD YOU STOP CHECKING OUT THE GIRL AND HELP ME OUT HERE?!” The Shokan’s booming voice snapped the young man out of his trance, and back toward the threat, now revealed. A masked warrior, reeking of death and covered in flies, his right arm replaced by a large, iron club. His body, while muscular, bore an appearance of decay, though it was evidentially just that, an appearance.

Another Oni… well, it was only a matter of time before another appeared. Algor and Chill stood together, and held there ground, even though Chill’s gaze returned to the woman in white before finally focusing on this monstrosity.

Always good to have a reason to fight.

Someone knew.

Someone from the part of him called by his food and the parasites as Heavenrealm, a former foe of a vessel.

He was puzzled… he thought they all died, during the Final War… the breed of parasites known as kombatants. Only he could bring them back from that fight. How did she come back? She also seemed to change…

He could not have any problems… he sent the putrid one, of the insects called Oni, he armed with the iron club.

Nothing could get in his way.

Actually, it was stated from the beginning that some would survive Armageddon, most likely the fan favorites like Scorpion. It was mostly a Crisis on Infinite Earths or Infinite Crisis: the unpopular, plotless, poorly-planned characters will be slaughtered, allowing for the plot to pretty much start over next game. Unfortunately, they forgot to put the plot in properly, trimming off the edges until it was a tiny toothpick that could fit into their “everyone comes in for one last showdown” idea.

Well, maybe Fight Night will finally clear some of this crap up, although knowing Boon nothing will come of it. Maybe Boon finally learned his lesson; you can’t keep pumping out MK games like they were candy indefinately; eventually, you’ll have to substitute artificial sweetners for real sugar. And with that bad analogy done, let’s end this discussion, shall we?

Oh, and I like where this fic is going, Glenton.