fanfics or whatever

There was something particularly sinful about Liu Kang on his knees before Kung Lao. Perhaps it was because Liu Kang has a perpetual look of innocence on his face, eyes wide and bright, a fire lit behind them. Or perhaps it was because Kung Lao will never be able to forget the scared shivering boy that Lord Raiden had brought to the temple on a rainy day. It didn't matter now, not when Liu Kang's soft lips drag across the length of his cock, pink tongue darting out briefly to taste the pre-cum spilling from the tip.

Kung Lao gripped onto the mala beads that Liu Kang had draped around his wrists. If he truly wanted to, he could remove his hands from behind his back and thread his fingers through Liu Kang's hair to pull him forward and force him to stop teasing. But the both of them knew who had all the power in their relationship.

"A-Kang, please," the monk could barely breathe out the sentence before Liu Kang looked up at him through fluttering eyelashes (always those damn eyes), a small teasing smile on his lips as his calloused hands gently pumped at the base of Kung Lao's cock.

"Lao, don't you know that patience is a virtue?" He stuck his tongue out once more, dipping it into the slit of Kung Lao's tip, and the monk groaned, resisting the urge to thrust his hips forward.

A wordless plea fell from Kung Lao's lips, shoulders shaking with the effort as Liu Kang squeezed the base of his cock, his other hand coming up from below to cup the monk's balls. His junior brother paid no mind to the whimper, simply continuing to tease and fondle without a care in the world, as if the skin underneath his fingers didn't feel as though it were on fire.

Kung Lao's cock twitched underneath Liu Kang's grasp, pre-cum pearling at the tip before dripping down onto the fire wielder's fingers, easing the rough slide of his hand.

"Do you think you deserve it? Bullying Cole Young like that? Beating Kano's pride?" Liu Kang looked almost bored, a little sigh leaving his lips, and Kung Lao gasped as the man swiped his thumb over the sensitive head of his dick, "I have half a mind to leave you like this all night."

"Pl-please, I promise to not do it again." Kung Lao could barely grit out the words, sweat beading at his hairline, fingernails likely tearing holes into the sheets below him. His hips jerked up instinctually in Liu Kang's hands as the monk gives his balls a slight squeeze, a pathetic moan leaving Kung Lao's lips at the feeling.

He didn't answer, just watching another bead of pre-cum run down the throbbing length of Kung Lao's cock, the heat seeming to pulse in his rough hands. In truth, Liu Kang held no anger towards Kung Lao. Although Kung Lao had pushed Cole Young so far that it proved to be useless, the fruits of his senior brother's taunting had rewarded them with the manifestation of an arcana. It was simply unfortunate that it had to be Kano.

The true reason he had sat Kung Lao down onto this bed was because he knew how worried his senior brother had become to resort to the tactless insults he had shot at Kano. He was growing desperate, mind plagued with thoughts of being the reason Earthrealm fell into Outworld's slavery and savagery. Although they both shared that burden, both of them knew that Lord Raiden expected more from Kung Lao, expected him to be the sole savior of Earthrealm. It had slowly driven their relationship into a fractured state. Even if just for a moment, Liu Kang wanted to distract Kung Lao.

Kung Lao would never admit it aloud, but Liu Kang knew that in the privacy of the bedroom was perhaps the only place he could ever truly let himself be himself, simply handing over the weight of expectations to someone else for once. The monk always put on an air of poise, of elegance, of confidence especially, but Liu Kang knew the burden of the tournament weighed heavy on Kung Lao's mind, forever present, forever looming. In the quiet of the night, on the hard mattress of their shared bedroom, with just the two of them, Kung Lao was loud and noisy, desperate and needy, whiny and slightly petulant, all the things he could never be as champion of Earthrealm.

Pressing his lips to the base of Kung Lao's cock, Liu Kang moved his hand there to slide up the smooth surface of his love's stomach to then squeeze at his lover's plush chest. He mouthed along the length, listening to the restrained groans and pants of the monk, and Liu Kang suckled on the tip of Kung Lao's dick to draw out another warbled bleat of pleasure from his senior brother.

Releasing his mouth from Kung Lao's cock, Liu Kang stood up so that he could tower over his usually taller counterpart and pressed his hand into Kung Lao's chest to push him down flat onto the bed, "lay down."

Kung Lao listened without a word of protest, shuffling a bit so that his bound hands rested above his head, and he let out an exhale when his cock slapped against his stomach, smearing droplets of pre-cum and spit on his skin.

"Shi di, please…" the monk craned his neck to look at Liu Kang, who had moved to the dresser to pull out a small clay pot of lubricant. The clay pot clinked softly as Liu Kang removed the lid and dipped his fingers into the viscous oil. One hand lifted up Kung Lao's leg onto Liu Kang's shoulder, and Kung Lao bit his lip at the feeling of his lover's thick finger tracing the rim of his asshole.

"Patience." Liu Kang ignored Kung Lao's slight huff and squirm on the bedsheets, opting to focus on slowly massaging the rim, feeling it slowly relax and open up to his ministrations.

"That's it. Good." He murmured it, but Kung Lao reacted with his whole body, stomach tensing and cheeks flushing with the praise. Compliments were hard to come by at the temple, and they had dwindled into nothing as stress and tension ate away at Lord Raiden's mind. But Liu Kang always gave them so freely, so willingly, whispering them into his skin like prayers.

Adjusting his grip on Kung Lao's leg, Liu Kang thrusted his finger in and out of Kung Lao slowly, relishing in how he clenched so tightly around him in anticipation. Perhaps too mch anticipation.

Liu Kang pressed a small kiss to the side of Kung Lao's knee, just enough to distract the monk to slide another finger into him, and a small punched-out moan left the older man, eyes glazed with pleasure. He crooked his fingers, pressing his fingers into Kung Lao's prostate, and he jerked on the bed, a breathy whine filling the air at the sudden course of intense pleasure.

The fire wielder didn't let up, massaging his fingers into the spot as if it was his personal mission to get Kung Lao to turn into nothing but a mess of whines and whimpers and sensation.

The monk's cock twitched on his stomach, aching to be touched, and Kung Lao keened as Liu Kang slowly pushed in a third finger, slowly stretching him, preparing him. Pre-cum dribbled onto his stomach, now dripping off to the side and onto the bedsheets, and Kung Lao let out a cry of frustration as Liu Kang continued to ignore his weeping cock.

"Fuck, Kang, pl-please, I need more-"

A sharp thrust of Liu Kang's fingers forward interrupted Kung Lao's train of thought, mouth hung agape as pleasure bloomed down his spine and muddied his brain. His own breathy moans were his only answer as Liu Kang started truly fucking Kung Lao on his fingers, and all Kung Lao could do was grip onto the mala beads in his grip, the grooves of them indenting into his skin.

"Oh-oh shit-" Kung Lao felt his hips twitch, legs trembling with the effort of closing as Liu Kang bullied his prostrate, but his lover kept a firm grip on Kung Lao's leg, forcing them to stay open and take exactly what was given.

Whines fell from his mouth with reckless abandon, mind too clouded with the overwhelming sensation of Liu Kang's thick fingers stretching him open and pressing insistently against that sweet spot to try and reel in his noisy sounds. Liu Kang hummed, biting his lip to restrain his own noises, greedy to hear all of Kung Lao's, and he kissed once more at the inside of his senior brother's knee, eyes focused on the mess of his cock.

The tip laid flush and dark, twitching with the ache of Kung Lao's heartbeat, and with every thrust of Liu Kang's fingers, the oversensitive cockhead would brush ever so slightly against Kung Lao's tensed stomach.

"That's my good boy, my perfect champion." He watched, enraptured even, as Kung Lao let out a strangled sound at the praise, the flush traveling from his face to his chest, and Liu Kang groaned as Kung Lao came untouched, cock twitching pathetically on his stomach as his release painted the monk's upper stomach.

Kung Lao's chest heaved up and down, hands clutching onto the prayer beads like a lifeline as he scrunched his eyes closed, and a small but long whine filled in the room before it fell into silence.

Liu Kang retracted his fingers and gently placed Kung Lao's leg back down onto the bed, shucking his pants off as quickly as he could, and he swiped his clean hand back into the clay pot of oil, making sure to cup a large amount of it into his palm.

The monk on the bed, breath finally coming back to him, looked down at the mess on his stomach and groaned, covering his eyes with his arm. He had just come untouched, like some virgin teenager who had just found a hidden stash of porn in the farthest reaches of the monastery's library.

"Don't hide from me. You don't have to do that here. With me." Liu Kang's hand slid up Kung Lao's stomach, thumb smearing against the excess cum starting to slide down the side of his abs, and Kung Lao raised his arm enough to see his lover staring at him. Observing him, eyesbrows furrowed with worry (always so attentive to his needs and wants), waiting for a sign that he was okay.

Liu Kang always knew him best, always knew when he started posturing to alleviate Lord Raiden's worries or when he tried to hide his worry about the fate of Earthrealm.

"I just," Kung Lao's body still trembled from the aftershocks of his orgasm, his dick softening against his stomach but still sensitive, "…it was a little embarrassing."

"No, it wasn't. It simply means I know your body well." Liu Kang bit back a grunt as he pumped himself to full hardness, making sure to slather his cock in a thick coat of oil. He dripped the rest of it onto Kung Lao, using his previously sullied hand to smear it around the rim.

Kung Lao let out an amused huff, "yeah, I suppose you are right. You always are."

Liu Kang blinked down at him, a red glow at his ears as he slightly blushed, but he shot back a mischievous smile, using his free hand to fondle Kung Lao's dick. A choked whine came out of the monk's throat, stinging pleasure shooting up his spine at the feeling, and Liu Kang's smile only grew wider.

"Don't distract me." He gently rubbed his thumb over the tip, relishing in the small bucks of Kung Lao's hips, and he gripped onto his own cock, guiding himself into Kung Lao. The monk let out a groan, back arching off the bed, hands raising up into the sheets to clutch at them.

Liu Kang relished in the little sounds as he slowly pushed himself in, finally letting out his own breathy moan as he bottomed out, hips pressed firmly into Kung Lao's.

"Kang, please…" Kung Lao looked up at him, eyes slightly squinted as if too overwhelmed, cheeks flushed dark, lips soft and slightly curved into a pout. Liu Kang leaned forward, hiking Kung Lao's legs to wrap around his waist, so that he could kiss his lover.

Kung Lao sighed into the kiss, bringing his arms down to wrap around Liu Kang's neck, prayer beads slightly clacking against each other as he did so. His legs tightened around the fire wielder's waist as Liu Kang started to thrust in and out of him, sounds of pleasure swallowed by each other.

Liu Kang leaned his weight onto one of his elbows, using that hand to cup at the back of Kung Lao's neck while the other squeezed at the monk's sensitive chest, fingers pinching and squeezing at the nipple before cupping the entirety of it with his hand. Kung Lao whined into the kiss with each move, cock caught in between the friction of his stomach and Liu Kang's, and the sensation was driving him insane. He was still soft but also hyper-sensitive now, tip leaking pre-cum in an effort to lubricate the feeling. Pleasure settled into his nerves, the stings of overstimulation muddying up any intelligible thought, and Kung Lao could only shudder with pleasure and let out pitiful little sounds as Liu Kang grew rougher with his strokes.

As if reading his thoughts, Liu Kang brought his hand down in between the two of them to pump Kung Lao's cock at the same pace of his hips, separating from the kiss and bringing himself up to balance on his hand instead of his elbow.

Underneath him, Kung Lao debauched and needy, tears gathering on the waterline but refusing to fall, chest heaving the effort of breathing, Liu Kang could only moan and quicken his thrusts, his own desperation and possessiveness gripping onto him. Earthrealm could have the front that Kung Lao put on, a faithful and loyal warrior, arrogant and cocky and skilled, but only Liu Kang could have this Kung Lao, so full of love and raw with emotion.

With every thrust, Liu Kang's cock rubbed up against Kung Lao's prostate, each thrust resulting in a smattering of stars behind his eyelids, and Kung Lao tilted his head back, neck flush with heat and sweat, "please, please-"

He wasn't sure what he was begging for. Liu Kang would never deny him what he wanted, maybe as champion, but never as Kung Lao.

"I know. Almost there. My Lao. Yours." Liu Kang's voice came out scattered, as if his thoughts could not stick themselves together, more animalistic than human at this point. Kung Lao's vision whited out as Liu Kang pressed his thumb into the slit of Kung Lao's cock, punctuating it with a rough rut of his hips forward, and he let out a cry, spurts of his cum dripping out into Liu Kang's rough hands.

Liu Kang leaned back down, elbows trapping Kung Lao's head between them as he fucked Kung Lao through his orgasm, and he let out what sonuded like a growl as he bit into the soft flesh of the monk's neck. His hips drove forward, stuttering in their pace as warm heat flowed through Kung Lao, almost burning, leaving him feeling too full.

Neither of them moved much in the afterglow. Liu Kang bucked his hips forward, keeping himself buried inside of the monk, and he mouthed at Kung Lao's neck, lips sucking feverish hickeys into the skin. He slowly lowered his weight down, a hand burying itself into his senior brother's hair, fingers playing with the red ribbon they both shared.

After a few more moments of quiet breathing, Liu Kang finally moved and slowly pulled out of Kung Lao, eyes focusing on the slow drip of cum gathering onto the sheets. He frowned at the sight, gathering one of the pillows on the bed before easily lifting up the bottom half of Kung Lao's weight to prop the monk's hips up onto a pillow.

"Hey, what was that for?" Kung Lao tilted his head forward to look at his junior brother, and Liu Kang only shrugged, turning his back to hide the flush of his ears as he gathered the prepared clay cups of water on the dresser.

"…don't want to make more of a mess on our bed." He answered, flinging a towel over his shoulder, before walking over with the carefully balanced tray of water and crackers. He sat on the bed, laying the towel down before removing the pillow, and Kung Lao sat up, accepting the water cup.

Kung Lao flit his eyes towards Liu Kang, looking away when he realized the fire wielder stared back with an intensity only he could ever muster. His lifted the cup to his mouth, taking in greedy gulps of water, and he lowered it down back into his lap, tracing the rim of the cup as Liu Kang took his own drink.

"You will win. I know you will succeed." Liu Kang spoke, voice quiet but full of conviction. "And I will be with you."

His hand moved to rest so that his fingers upwards toward Kung Lao, and Kung Lao moved his hand in reciprocation so that their fingers would intertwine with each other.

Kung Lao lay on his back, staring up at the carved ceiling of the cave. His shi di slept just a few feet away from him, hair haloing over his face and heat emanating from his skin. Even from a distance, Kung Lao could feel the glow of warmth from Liu Kang, and he appreciated it during the cold nights in the Gobi Desert. But it had been harder for Kung Lao to sleep next to his junior as of late.

His heart often thumped much too loudly, and his palms reeked of sweat and stickiness in the mornings. Liu Kang would press the back of his hand against Kung Lao's sweaty forehead, full lips twisting into a frown as he asked whether Kung Lao had gotten sick. He could only wave away his friend's concerns and roll onto his side to turn away from the hearth of warmth. But he could still feel Liu Kang's breath on the back of his neck, and in the dead of night when Kung Lao still struggled to sleep, Liu Kang's limbs would entangle with his own.

It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling. They had both fought and wrestled with each other too many times to not know the feel of each other's bodies, and they both frequented the hot springs to relax their sore muscles. Nothing had changed from their usual routine except for Kung Lao's own thoughts. His eyes would linger on the droplets of water racing down Liu Kang's torso, down the hard lines of his body and over the red mark of the arcana on his ribs. An image of his own tongue tracing the marking would filter into his brain, and Kung Lao could only hope that the flush of his face was hidden in the shadows of the cave.

Nothing had changed between them except Kung Lao. His heart threatened to fall out of his chest whenever he looked at Liu Kang, and it had been manageable at first, only appearing when Liu Kang would nuzzle his face into Kung Lao's chest right before they slept or in the steam of the showers. But the feeling had spilled into every facet of his life. In the dawn of the morning when neither of them should've looked presentable, Liu Kang still managed to look perfect: eyes drooping slightly and hair mussed and uncombed. During training, Kung Lao faltered and lost balance whenever Liu Kang would give him that self-assured smile, and in the quiet meal times with the other monks, he would forget to eat in favor of watching Liu Kang's pink tongue dart out to clean sauce from his lips.

Kung Lao sighed and turned onto his side to face Liu Kang. His junior's face was calm. Peaceful. There were nights when Liu Kang had first joined when he had been plagued by nightmares: limbs wrapped tightly into himself and eyebrows furrowed into a harsh knot. He would cry out in the middle of the night, fists and feet thrashing wildly, and it was only when Kung Lao would startle from his sleep and rest his palm against Liu Kang's head that the boy would awaken and calm down. It was how their tradition of sleeping together had started.

And now, they were apart again. Why did Kung Lao have to change? Everything was perfect, and now he had ruined it with his…feelings. Whatever they were.

The monks didn't teach much about emotions here. One of their tenets was to refrain from sexual activity, and so none of them taught him how to handle anything regarding matters of the heart. It was simply expected of him to feel nothing. After all, there were no women here his age. And yet…he dreamt of being one with Liu Kang, lips and fingertips pressed hard against each other, unwilling to let go.

It was wrong. It just was. He was a man. Liu Kang was a man. Their pairing wouldn't work. His entire family upheld relations between a man and woman of strong blood to produce even stronger heirs for the tournament. Even if he were to marry, his family would decide for him. It was tradition. Perhaps if Liu Kang was a girl. He was already pretty. Full lips, a slightly rounded face, definitely strong.

No, no, it wasn't right. It didn't feel right. Kung Lao felt an ugly part of his heart twist in his chest at the thought of Liu Kang being a woman. He couldn't love a woman. It just wasn't…he wouldn't be Kung Lao anymore. And she wouldn't be his Liu Kang. He could only love-

Kung Lao turned onto his back again. His chest burned, and he lay his forearm on top of his eyes as he felt the sting of tears etch themselves down his face. Love. He loved Liu Kang.

His breathing cramped his ribs as he let the thought fill up the crevices of his thoughts. It felt strange. Kung Lao had always thought he would love would feel like the warmth of Liu Kang's hand. Or perhaps like the light breeze of Lord Fujin as he flew through the air. Or the soft rain that Lord Raiden brought when he teleported. Not this thunderous feeling in his heart that made it feel as though he could sink to the bottom of the ocean floor and never return to the surface. And yet, he would do that. For Liu Kang. Only for Liu Kang.

He could never let his shi di know. Nor Lord Raiden. Attachments were distractions when a death tournament lingered over the horizon, and the god would separate them if he knew. What would the monks even think? They strictly adhered to their rules of celibacy and wouldn't hesittate to separate their bed rolls from each other.

…What would Liu Kang think? Would he look upon his shi xiong in disgust? Kung Lao felt his throat clog up, swelling with discomfort at the thought of his junior's eyes of adoration turning into one of contempt. He would rather be dead than to see Liu Kang look at him like he was a lesser person.

"Lao?" Liu Kang's luminous eyes shined through the dark, catching the embers of the dying candle by the entrance of their shared room. Kung Lao wiped his forearm across his face and hoped that it looked as though he wasn't crying.

"Why are you awake?" His voice sounded shot, as if he had spent the night screaming, and Kung Lao cleared his throat.

"I could ask you the same." There with that smile again. Lips slightly curving at the edges, one that Liu Kang only ever showed when he knew he had his senior beat. Kung Lao let out a sharp breath and rolled his eyes.

"Go back to sleep, A-Kang. We have an early morning tomorrow finding the rest of the champions." Rolling onto his side to face away from Liu Kang, Kung Lao closed his eyes and silently snorted at his own hypocritical statement. He would most definitely sleep in while Liu Kang actually got up in the morning,

"…I can't." Liu Kang sounded small, scared. An unspoken plea in his words. Kung Lao bit his lip as his heart raced in his chest, but he dutifully sat up in his bedroll and scoot a few inches to the side before patting the empty space beside him. A grateful smile spread on Liu Kang's face, and he sprung out of his bed and hurried over to Kung Lao's, body pressed tightly against his senior's as if scared he would disappear tomorrow.

Neither of them said anything, and in the few short minutes as Kung Lao tried to not stare at Liu Kang, he could hear his junior's light snores and their hand curl up over Kung Lao's heart. He tried not to glance down, but he could never resist the temptation to appreciate Liu Kang's beauty. Of course, his face was half hidden in Kung Lao's shoulder, long eyelashes fluttering as he dreamt and lips slightly parted. His leg was thrown over Kung Lao's, and he could feel Liu Kang's lungs press into his own with every breath.

Liu Kang knelt in front of Kung Lao's grave. It was a rudimentary thing, a stone with Kung Lao's name barely etched into the surface with a rusty knife, and it had been shoved into the training pits among the ruins of the rest of the monastery. There was no time to buy a proper headstone or to restore their home to its former glory. In a moment, Lord Raiden with return with Johnny Cage, and Liu Kang would have to depart for the rest of the tournament. Then, the fight for Earthrealm would truly begin.

Cupping his hands together, Liu Kang dug out a small hole in the wet sand, just enough to bury the last remainder he had of Kung Lao. His body had disappeared from the pit when they returned, and Liu Kang had turned half of the training pit into brittle glass in his rage. He hated to think of what Shang Tsung was doing to Kung Lao's body. He hated to think of what Shang Tsung was doing with Kung Lao's soul.

Tears burned at the back of Liu Kang's eyes, and the sand at his fingertips smelted into red glass. He pulled back his hands before it could harden onto his skin, and the warmth of his tears carved lines of grief into his face before dripping onto the floor. It felt hopeless. He felt worthless. If only he hadn't frozen. Why had he just stared? Fear? Shock?

It didn't matter. His inaction had led to Kung Lao's death, and Earthrealm had lost its best champion. Liu Kang had lost the other half his humanity. They were meant to die together. One soul split into two bodies, always meant to find each other after reincarnation, but Kung Lao had gone first. Now, Liu Kang was cursed to wander for the rest of his life alone. Never again would he see his best friend. And he would never be able to rest against his lover's warmth.

Raiden pursed his lips as he applied the burn cream to the tips of his hands. He would always be grateful that Liu Kang had trusted him to fight as Earthrealm's champion and given him the amulet, but…

The lightning burned the tips of his fingers, permanent scars of its powers etched into his skin, and it had frayed his nerves, hands now burdened with a permanent tremor. If he gripped onto something too tightly with his fingers, it sent pain shooting up his arm. Sometimes, if he overused the lightning amulet while defending the Shaolin temple during invasion attacks, his fingers would crust over with blood and flesh as the streaks of energy seared him. It hurt. It really did. He had tried to wear gloves or apply some sort of barrier onto his hands to try and reduce the harm unto himself, but it ended with either the lightning shocks traveling up the whole of his arm or with the gloves unfortunately exploding.

He supposed he would eventually get used to it. Raiden sighed as the cream numbed the sensation of his fingertips but frowned at the sight of his hands trembling, unable to stay still unless he focused. It had made his life somehow much harder. Practicing the calligraphy he had loved to do in the past had become impossible and even using a pencil or pen to write had proved challenging.

The worst of it was being with Kung Lao in those small moments. He could no longer touch his lover without Kung Lao worrying over the small tremor. Raiden could not hold onto Kung Lao's hand for too long without his fingers become stiff and sore, and he had a hard time helping Kung Lao's family with farming duties. Raiden bit his lip as he shut the lid of the burn cream lid with the heel of his hand, and he put it back into the drawer and shut it with too much force. He felt almost…useless for anything outside of fighting. In the adrenaline of the fight, Raiden could barely feel the shock of lightning against his body, but in the aftermath…

"Raiden?" Kung Lao opened the door to their quarters, and Raiden sent a small smile to his lover, clasping his hands together in front of him to try and reduce the size of the shaking.

"Are you okay?" Kung Lao glanced down to Raiden's hands, stepping forward, and Raiden attempted to wave his Kung Lao's concern with another smile.

"Yes, everything is perfectly fine, my love."

There was something intoxicating about watching Kung Lao. It felt inevitable to be drawn to the monk, like the moon circling around the earth or the planets revolving around the sun. He was warm, bold, and a heavy hand that frequently knocked Raiden down but was just as quick to help him up. Sometimes, Raiden would lay on the training ring, the breath knocked out of him from a particularly hard blow from Kung Lao, and he would stare in a daze as his friend hovered over him, the sun haloing the monk as if Buddha themself had come down from heaven.

The kids shuffle around the ring, eagerly choosing their partners as they bounce on the balls of their feet, ready to prove themselves to their teacher. Raiden straightens his back, ready to head into the ring when he sees one of the students looking aimlessly around the ring alone, everyone having paired off already.

Kung Lao swoops in before Raiden can. The monk pats the kid on the back and gives them a lopsided smile before encouraging them to practice on him. The kid picks at the threads of their uniform before getting into position, legs mildly trembling as they rush toward Kung Lao.

He does not go down easily, and Kung Lao knocks the kid down easily, reaching his hand down to pull the student back to their feet. Raiden cannot hear what his friend says to the young child, but he sees the small smile Kung Lao gives to them and can make out the slightest words that his lips form. The kid nods and steps back again, their form steady and firm, and they rush toward Kung Lao again, intent in their strikes as Kung Lao blocks them.

Raiden stifles the smile on his own face as Kung Lao beams, raising his hand for the kid to high-five him, and Raiden finally wanders back into the ring to stand next to his friend.

“Raiden! Did you see that?” Kung Lao gives him a smile, and Raiden hopes the sun is bright enough to blame the redness of his cheeks.

“Yes, I did. You did well.” Raiden directs his latter comment toward the student, and they blush and mumble a quiet thank you. The gong strikes in the distance, signaling lunch, and Raiden can hear Kung Lao’s stomach growl.

The students look at Kung Lao expectantly, dirt and dust smeared across their uniforms, and Kung Lao waves to them, “I expect you back here in an hour!”

They all rush out of the training ring, a few giving quick bows and thank yous to Kung Lao as they patter their way to the dining hall. Raiden barely has time to react when Kung Lao grabs onto his hand and starts to drag him toward the dining hall as well, following the quiet thumps of the student’s footsteps against the wooden pathways. His heart pounds against his chest, too focused on the warmth of Kung Lao’s hand in his own, fingers slotted against each other.

“C’mon! We’ve gotta get there before they run out again. I can’t believe I missed out on the tofu last time.” Kung Lao pouts as he continues to drag Raiden toward the dining hall, footsteps quickening as the raucous noise of the cafeteria starts to seep into the warm summer air.

Raiden stumbles over his own feet, too focused on the feeling of the slight scars made by a bladed hat and rough calloused skin made by hours of toiling in the field. He trips over the raised wooden entrance of the cafeteria as Kung Lao surges forward, and Raiden falls forward, dragging the monk down with him as their fingers remain interlocked.

The first thing he sees is the rosy lips of Kung Lao as he tries to push himself off the stone flooring. The next thing he feels is how he is pressed firmly into his friend’s soft body, Kung Lao’s warm arms tight around Raiden’s waist. Raiden scrambles to his feet, falling back down in his hurry as Kung Lao rises from the ground. The students watch from their seats, and Raiden sheepishly apologizes, face flushed red from embarrassment.

“Ah, sorry, Lao.” Raiden wishes that the ground would swallow him whole. Kung Lao only lets out a laugh, a bright smile and a hand reached out to Raiden to help him up.

“You know…if you wanted to get on top of me, all you had to do is ask.” Kung Lao shoots a wink at Raiden, and Raiden can’t help but close his eyes and sigh. His chest hurt, the pounding of his chest so frantic it might’ve been less painful to have a heart attack. He wanted to, so badly, to be exactly in that position. Warm bodies against each other, heat on each other’s lips, calloused hands tracing the scars of their lives together.

“Ah, don’t be so serious, Raiden! I’m only joking.” Kung Lao slaps a hand against Raiden’s shoulder and turns to the cafeteria line. Raiden thinks he sees a pang of hurt in Kung Lao’s eyes but rubs his eyes. It was just a trick of the light. Nothing more.

Raiden quietly combed Kung Lao’s hair in the quiet of their shared bedroom at the WuShi Academy. Now, Kung Lao could theoretically do his own hair by himself, but Raiden found peace in the quiet ritual that had formed in their childhood.

As an unruly kid, Kung Lao had run amuck with a buzzed haircut. He had claimed it was because his family came from a long line of Buddhist monks and that one day he was going to be sent to one of the temples in the mountains. Raiden had the sneaking suspicion it was actually because his parents had grown tired of washing Kung Lao’s hair when the boy played in the mud and dust of the farm fields everyday. Kung Lao never did become a monk, too enraptured with the delicacies of meat and too aversive to spending hours a day just praying. So when middle school rolled around, Kung Lao started growing out his hair until it just reached his chin. However, a childhood spent not worrying about his hair had only bred disaster.

He often walked into class almost late and plopped into his seat right in front of Raiden, giving the boy a full view of the uncombed mess that was Kung Lao’s hair. Raiden couldn’t stand the sight of the rat’s nest and had forced his friend to spend one of his breaks in between class in his seat as Raiden meticulously combed and tied Kung Lao’s hair for him. It had become a quiet ritual after that. Kung Lao would, miraculously, show up to school a few minutes early, and Raiden would comb his hair, chastising him on needing to wash his hair more than once a week. Eventually, Kung Lao did listen and started washing his hair every day. Unfortunately, he hadn’t kicked the nasty habit of using a 3-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, and body wash yet. Raiden was working on it.

Combing out the last of the knots from sleep, Raiden quickly pulled it into a ponytail and gave Kung Lao a soft pat on the back affirming that he was done. The sun filtered through the intricately designed slats of the bedroom, and Raiden could hear the buzz of life outside. He would need to hurry up with his own hair if he wanted to eat breakfast on time.

“You know, you never let me do your hair.” Kung Lao turned around and stared up at Raiden from his seat, trying his best to give puppy dog eyes. Raiden only rolled his eyes.

“I would rather shave my hair than let you touch it again.” Raiden had let Kung Lao do his hair style once. That was the only time. He needed to cut off more than half his hair by the time Kung Lao was done. Raiden didn’t even know it was possible to create a knot that big.

Kung Lao grumbled but dutifully got up out of the chair and stretched his arms upwards, letting out a long groan, the rim of his sleep shirt rising up to slightly reveal the trail of hair on his stomach. Raiden darted his eyes to the side and turned around and took in a deep breath before getting to work on his own hair. But he could still hear Kung Lao changing behind him, and Raiden could see glimpses of Kung Lao in his mirror. Raiden tried not to focus on that and closed his eyes, relying on his muscle memory to work his hair into a presentable state. Images of his friend flitted in his mind: Kung Lao out in the field, his arms on full display as he refused to wear anything with sleeves in the dead of summer; Kung Lao elbowing him in the ribs as they played a video game in the dead of night when they should’ve been asleep; Kung Lao in the bathhouse, only the blur of water keeping his private bits private.

“Want me to get you breakfast?”

Raiden snapped his eyes open and turned to Kung Lao in the doorway already dressed in his uniform, and Raiden gave Kung Lao a sheepish nod.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kung Lao gave Raiden a concerned look, eyebrows furrowing slightly, and Raiden waved it off.

“Just remembering how you put my hair in that giant knot that one time.” Raiden flashed Kung Lao a smile, and Kung Lao groaned.

“That was one time! I’ve gotten better!” Kung Lao pouted, and Raiden gave him a quiet laugh and then waved him off.

“Mhm. I’m sure.” Raiden turned around back to the mirror and watched in the reflection as Kung Lao huffed and crossed his arms.

“Whatever, you can get your own breakfast then.” With that, Kung Lao closed the door quietly and walked off to the dining hall, the gravel outside crunching underneath his boots. Raiden knew that by the time he got there, Kung Lao would have a seat saved for him and a large bowl of congee and toppings waiting for him there. He was always so serious about eating and getting proper nutrition. Raiden wondered if Kung Lao would cook all their meals if they were married.

Raiden scowled at himself and finished tying his hair into a bun. Now was not the time for silly fantasies. Kung Lao only saw him as a friend. Nothing more. Nothing else.

Kung Lao stared at Raiden from afar, trying to convince himself that his gaze wasn’t lingering on Raiden’s defined chest but rather his fighting form. Regrettably looking down at his hands, Kung Lao bit his lip as he finished wrapping his hands and tied off a knot at the end. He had mastered using his chakram hat at this point, after countless invasions he would have hoped he did, but that didn’t mean accidents didn’t happen. Namely Raiden.

Kung Lao couldn’t help it. During the midst of a battle, he couldn’t help but worry about Raiden. It wasn’t as if Raiden wasn’t capable of keeping himself safe, but the sheer amount of enemies that would pile onto the champion left Kung Lao concerned and distracted.

Putting his hat back on, he stayed where he was, watching Raiden spar with the other monks. It wasn’t that Kung Lao was ashamed of his feelings. Spending enough time with Johnny fawning over Kenshi had made sure of that, but there was still a lingering…feeling. Something that made him hesitate with every fleeting touch that he gave Raiden. Kung Lao wanted Raiden. He loved Raiden. That much was true, but it made it hard to be around him all the same.

Every time he slung his arm around Raiden’s shoulder, bumped shoulders with him at the dining table, or even sparred against each other in the ring, Kung Lao couldn’t help but imagine it in a different context. His arms around Raiden as they kissed on the couch, bumping shoulders in the same bed at night as they slept next to each other, hard unforgiving hands down on his thighs.

Kung Lao buried his face into his hands, heat rising up to his cheeks as he tried to wave away the thoughts. It really wasn’t a good idea to be thinking of this when Raiden was still in his view.

But he couldn’t help it all the same. What if one day he pushed Raiden too far? Made him uncomfortable with all the touching? Kung Lao couldn’t imagine a past, present, or future without him. If he confessed his feelings, what would happen to their friendship? What would happen to them  if they broke up?

He groaned into his hands and then sighed.

It was fine. Everything was fine. He would just keep his feelings secret, store them in a gourd and then place it in a forgotten closet of his mind. It was better this way.

“Lao, are you okay?”

Kung Lao peeked beneath his fingers and spotted Raiden, the sun glowing behind him, sweat dripping down his torso and wetting the fabric that clung to his hips like a lifeline.

“Psh, yeah, I’m totally fine! Just needed to wrap my hands.” Kung Lao sprang up from his step, hoping that his face wasn’t too red. Raiden crinkled his eyebrows, disbelieving, but he didn’t press any further and instead stretched one of his arms across his chest.

“If you’re sure.”

Kung Lao smirked and flicked the rim of his hat, walking out into the sun and discarding his own robes, “I’m completely fine! Unlike you. I bet I could beat you in a fight right now.”

Raiden laughed, a beautiful song in the air, and Kung Lao took a deep breath to calm  his nerves.

“Whoever loses has to pay for the bill at Madam Bo’s.” Raiden lowered his stance, ready to spar, and Kung Lao smiled.

Sunlight filtered through the blinds in the room, casting a golden glow onto the bed. Raiden resisted the urge to tuck a loose strand of Kung Lao’s hair behind his ear. They were at Raiden’s house for lunch, as they usually were, and Kung Lao had dragged Raiden into the bed, claiming that a power nap would be good before they had to return to class. Raiden didn’t really believe that, but before he could protest, Kung Lao had grabbed onto his arm and fell down onto the bed.

The mattress creaked underneath the extra weight, and Kung Lao snuggled up to the pillow, letting go of Raiden to place one hand underneath his head and tucking his other arm into his chest. Raiden could’ve gotten back up, could’ve gotten a head start on the homework sitting on his desk, could’ve left the room to help his auntie with the dishes.

Instead, he stayed where he lay and curled up onto his side, one hand tucked underneath his head to mirror Kung Lao. His other hand lay in the space between the two of them, his fingers twitching every so often.

Kung Lao sent him a smug smile, going on about being right, but Raiden could only focus on the leftover sauce from their lunch on Kung Lao’s lips. What would it be like, if he just leaned forward a bit to kiss off the taste? His face burned when his friend licked his lips to clean up the mess, and Raiden closed his eyes, grumbling that he was just tired.

When Raiden opened his eyes again, Kung Lao had fallen asleep, the slight dimple on the right side of his face gone. Sunlight hugged the curve of Kung Lao’s jaw, and he seemed to glow underneath all the golden light. His school uniform rode up his side, exposing the tanned and toned skin of his midriff, and Raiden brought his hand towards his chest. He couldn’t just…touch Kung Lao. They were just friends after all.

He spent the rest of the next hour watching Kung Lao sleep. The slow rise of his chest, the slight shuffle of his legs to curl into himself, the way his arms moved toward Raiden, almost reaching for him. Raiden drew back and glanced at the alarm clock, guilt and nausea burning through his stomach. He felt like a creep, staring at his friend sleeping. But he just couldn’t resist the urge. Raiden wanted so much more: to slot his hand into Kung Lao’s, to squeeze his shoulder as they kissed, to hold him tight so that neither of them could forget each other’s warmth.

The alarm clock flashed red, warning them that school was starting soon, and Raiden took one last indulgent look at Kung Lao before reaching his hand over the gap between them and shaking Kung Lao’s shoulder.

“Kung Lao. We should get going. School’s starting soon.” Raiden whispered it, hoping that maybe Kung Lao would stay asleep longer in his bed, just for a moment.

“Five more minutes.” Kung Lao groaned, furrowing his eyebrows and turning his face so that his nose buried into Raiden’s pillows.

“C’mon, we don’t want to get punished.” Raiden went to sit up and nearly choked on his own spit when Kung Lao grabbed onto the back of Raiden’s collar and pulled him into his arms, effectively making Raiden the little spoon.

“Just, five more minutes…please.” Kung Lao wrapped his arms tighter around Raiden, and suddenly he was glad that Kung Lao couldn’t see his face. He just hoped that his friend was too drowsy to notice his pounding heart.

Raiden hummed, and Kung Lao sighed, burying his nose into Raiden’s neck.

The monk lay still, barely breathing as he slept in the bed, and even in the unclear features of the sand, the god could see the distress and frustration distorting Kung Lao’s face even in his sleep. Liu Kang frowned at the scene but kept watching, bringing his hands together to stop their shaking as he stared at the replica of his best friend. A large hand shakes the sand and whisks it back into thin air, and Liu Kang finds Geras standing before him, a frown on his usually stoic face.

“You should not be watching Kung Lao.” Geras sat down across from Liu Kang, placing his hands on his knees and staring into Liu Kang’s eyes. The god looked away, pressing his lips together and clenching his hands together harder.

“I know, Geras.” He should apologize for abusing his power. He had promised himself and Geras that he would not become Kronika, that he would never use his powers for personal reasons, that he would only use his powers if necessary and for the betterment of the universe. And then, he had gone and broken it so that he could watch a man that would only ever consider him as a god and a mentor, never a friend or a lover.

Liu Kang wished he could just go in the many universes out there and find his friend from his past life, to hold onto his last thread of humanity and his past, where things were just so much simpler. He didn’t want to worry about making the wrong decisions or about taking the blame for every little thing wrong with the universe. Never once did he mean to make the beings in his universe suffer and yet here he stood taking the blame for every misfortune in existence: Tarkat now a disease when it was meant to be nonexistent, slavery that ran rampant in the kingdom of Seido, and Kung Lao suffering the decisions of his own selfishness.

He wanted to reach out, to go through the other universes once more and find his Kitana and his Kung Lao, to sit down with them and have tea over a simple meal. To talk and discuss and laugh and share burdens just like before and to just forget that he was ever a god in the first place. For just a moment, the responsibility would vanish and lighten on his shoulders, and he would be able to breathe and relax. But, he couldn’t do that, couldn’t shirk his responsibilities and hide away in the hidden nooks of the academy and play games with Kung Lao. He couldn’t sneak off with Kitana to the less-traveled halls of the palace and kiss until he saw the stars behind his eyelids. He was here instead, taking on the weight of his universe and starting to crack underneath the pressure.

At least he had his Geras, always patient, always understanding, always here to listen. Liu Kang knew that his construct held just as many responsibilities as him, if not more with how he would become the keeper of time one day. Geras had no friends to fall back on, no one to talk to except Liu Kang, and yet he never complained.

“I apologize. I was selfish.” Liu Kang looked down to the ground and sighed, squeezing at his leg. He knew he was being selfish, but for once, he just wanted something for himself. His entire life had been for the betterment of Earthrealm when he was a human, almost every single second and minute was spent training or meditating or learning for the upcoming tournament. It was only Kung Lao that had taken him out of the training halls, waving away any notion of training and brought him to the village that lived near the monastery. It was Kung Lao who had taught him to live for himself and enjoy just being Liu Kang. It was Kung Lao who had shown him the pleasures of the world, to indulge in himself every once in a while. 

And so, Liu Kang had first become selfish for Kung Lao, requesting to Lord Raiden that only they train together, stating that it would be better for them to work together to become like one, but in reality it was because Liu Kang hadn’t liked how handsy the other trainees could become. Only he was allowed to hold onto Kung Lao’s waist. Liu Kang had become selfish when at dinner, Liu Kang always made sure that Kung Lao sat at the end of the dining tables so that no one else could sit next to him except Liu Kang. Only Liu Kang could sit and talk to Kung Lao. Liu Kang had become selfish when one night Kung Lao took them up to the roof to stare at the stars in the universe and Liu Kang had kissed the monk. That was eons ago, but the memories were seared into his head, a part of his very being, one of the threads that kept him together. Except this Kung Lao here did not remember any of that because this Kung Lao was not his Kung Lao.

Oh, he wished that this Kung Lao was his, that one day he would remember everything and come running into Liu Kang’s arms and kiss him senseless. But it would be a dream always far out of reach, never to be a reality and just a fantasy.

“Lord Liu Kang. I think you should find some closure. It weighs heavy on your mind, and you cannot afford to let anything cloud your vision.” Geras said, his deep voice cutting through the god’s thoughts, and Liu Kang sighed, closing his eyes and clenching his fists together.

“You are right as always, Geras. I will leave now then. I trust you to keep things together in my absence.” Liu Kang tried to give a soft smile, but he was sure it looked strained and painful. Geras paused but then nodded and stood up, holding his hand out for Liu Kang to take, and the god did so and helped himself up to his feet, nervousness crawling in his stomach as he nodded to Geras in thanks.

Leaving the temple, Liu Kang parted ways with Geras and walked to the entrance of the Fire Temple, sucking in a deep breath to try and calm his pounding heart as he prepared himself to open a portal to the White Lotus Academy. Slowly, he raised his hands and the flames seeped out of his palms and into the air, the familiar surge of power rushing through his arms and into the space in front of him, twisting and turning and taking shape. The fire swirled until it formed a near perfect circle, sparks of the flame flaking off onto the ground and into the night as it grew. The portal lit up before him, the white casting the faintest glow on him, and Liu Kang let out a breath, steeling his nerves before stepping through the portal and into the White Lotus Academy.

He would go and see Kung Lao, cut off the last loose threads to his life as a human, and he would then forevermore be Lord Liu Kang, the fire god. He would let Kung Lao marry Raiden and watch the two of them have long lives until they both grew old together and sat together underneath the cherry blossom trees one more time, and Liu Kang would just have to take it and watch as it all happened and do nothing about it. Something flickered dark in his heart, painful and barbed and stinging, screaming to be let out and lash out at the world around him, to burn it all to ash and just take Kung Lao away and make sure that he was safe and secure, but Liu Kang buried the feeling and waved his hand to dissipate the portal.

He stood outside of the entrance and stared at the familiar stone arches of the White Lotus Academy, paint flaking and chipped from its old age and the stone edges dulled from the wind, and Liu Kang stared past the entrance at the tranquiless, only the light of the lanterns and the faint glow of the rising sun lighting his pathway. The god walked in, steps light against the dusty ground as he searched for Kung Lao and Raiden’s quarters, and he could hear the trainees rousing and could see some of the monks in the temples, praying and reciting sutras. The hallways arched and loomed above him, making Liu Kang feel smaller, no longer like a god. He felt like the frightened Liu Kang that was only human, body soft and fleshy and exposed as he walked closer to the doors, and somehow that scared the god more than anything else in the wide expanse of universes out there.

The door to Kung Lao and Raiden’s room sat at the end of the hallway, slowly growing bigger and bigger with each step forward, and it only caused Liu Kang’s nerves to grow and bite and gnaw at his consciousness. Somehow, the walk to the bedroom seemed much longer than before, and Liu Kang could feel something squeezing painfully at his heart at the reminder that it was longer him and Kung Lao that shared a room.

His steps seemed to echo in his ears until they finally came to a stop, letting the ringing in his ears grow in the silence as he stood in front of the at the end of the stretching hallway, and Liu Kang traced the grooves and patterns of the door with his eyes, stalling for time and clenching his hands in front of him to try and get rid of some of the clamminess. He raised his hand and knocked on the door, listening for the shuffling of clothing and the familiar footsteps of Kung Lao to pad to the door. Except they’re much too heavy and the weight didn’t sound right and it was the heavy breathing of someone echoing in the room that was not Kung Lao.

Raiden opened the door, heavy and dark circles underneath his eyes, and he only blinked up at the god, not bowing like he usually did nor even greeting him. He just stood there. Silent. Unmoving. Unreactive. His eyes seemed dead, usually sparking with something, but today there was nothing there, as if his soul had been sucked out of him.

“Hello, Raiden. I was wondering if I could talk to Kung Lao.” Liu Kang tried to keep his voice even, but it slightly cracked at the end of the sentence.

The champion just blinked at the god with a tired look, and then he took in a choked breath and gripped onto the doorframe, “he left last night, Lord Liu Kang. I do not know where he has gone.”

Tears fell down from Raiden’s eyes, and his entire body shook with the effort of not breaking down in front of the God. And yet all Liu Kang could focus on was the howling questions in his head asking when Kung Lao had left, where he had gone, what had happened to him. Liu Kang’s fingers twitched, tempted to look through the threads of time once more to find out where he had gone, but he only clenched his fists together, remembering Geras’s words. He was not a human anymore, he cannot be allowed to just toy with the lives of mortal’s because he missed Kung Lao. Still, the temptation still lay in his head, burrowing itself into his head and seeping into every thought and nerve as Liu Kang tried to even out his breathing and remain calm.

“Who would know where he is?”

Raiden only ducked his head down at the question, pursing his lips and hands shaking with how tightly he held onto the door frame, as if it was the only thing grounding him to this earth right now, like it was the only thing keeping him from breaking down.

“I apologize, Lord Liu Kang. I do not know.” With that, Raiden closed the door, but Liu Kang could still hear the muffled thud of the champion’s body against the door, the harsh friction as Raiden slid down the door, the stifled sobs and cries and whimpers from his throat.

The god considered opening the door and comforting his champion, but his mind could only fill up with worries and anxieties about where Kung Lao could have possibly gone. Even worse, a sick sort of pleasure rose up in him at the pained cries of the champion because Raiden was the one who had stolen Kung Lao away from Liu Kang. But he knew it wasn’t true. That Kung Lao was not an object to be owned, that Kung Lao was never Liu Kang’s in the first place, that Kung Lao didn’t even know the god existed until last year, and yet still, the twisted feeling of victory lingered in his head.

Dragging a hand over his face, Liu Kang tried to squash the feeling in his chest and closed his eyes, focusing on organizing and filing away his thoughts. There were only so many places that Kung Lao could go to. For as expansive and large Earthrealm was, Kung Lao was only a farmer in the small village of Fengjian and had nowhere else to go except to Liu Kang’s organizations.

A small voice in his head whispered in his ear, voice oozing and dripping like a dark black sludge from the blackest of hells, and it whispered that he could have gone to the Lin Kuei, to Shang Tsung. Just as quick as the thought creeped into his brain, Liu Kang slammed it down into the ground. Kung Lao was a good man. He would not so easily be swayed to the side of evil, and he had no way to contact either the sorcerer or the grandmaster.

Only two choices existed for Kung Lao: the Shirai Ryu clan or his family in America. It would not be possible for the monk to have gone to the United States. The small village at the base of the mountain that the White Lotus sat upon had no airport, barely any cars that could travel through the rocky roads to the nearest city a hundred miles away. Driving was a luxury around these parts, and Kung Lao had no such privilege in the small village. Not to mention, the train station was at least a car trip away to even try and get to the airport.

Kung Lao had been to the Shirai Ryu a few times to accompany Raiden in his training of harnessing his emotions and had grown familiar with the pathway to the Shirai Ryu. Liu Kang had given the White Lotus Academy and Shirai Ryu amulets to be able to teleport to each other in case of emergency or any political meetings and to just have general ease of access to each other. It was the only possible place that Kung Lao could have gone, and Liu Kang turned on his heel to go and find the temple that held the amulet. 

As he left, he could hear the muffled cries of his champion behind closed doors, but Liu Kang ignored the pained sobs and marched ahead, blocking Raiden from his mind and focusing on Kung Lao. It was an overwhelming need, one that burnt brighter than any fire he could ever produce. Or perhaps the fire blazed and consumed him instead, a flame he could not control and would destroy his very body and soul in his journey to find Kung Lao. Maybe it would turn him to the side of evil and that he would become exactly like Kronika, obsessed with making sure everything was perfect.

Liu Kang paused in his steps, standing right outside of the temple, the doors open and the amulet glinting in the light of the morning sun. Was he becoming like Kronika? Obsessive? Would he kill an entire universe to make sure Kung Lao would survive? Something in his head whispered that he would. He would do much worse for Kung Lao if he continued down this path, obsessing and needing and searching for Kung Lao. He would kill more than one universe if it meant that Kung Lao would stay safe. He would watch and relish in his delight as he killed every person that dared to even think about harming Kung Lao.

The god took a step back, startled by the thoughts in his head, and his fingers twitched, almost as if they were able to feel the lives they would take in the name of keeping his Kung Lao safe. Kronika, an obsessed god he had not thought of in eons, and to his detriment, Liu Kang realized just how similar he was becoming to her. Obsessed, stopping and weaving and manipulating the strands of time to fit his own needs. He was the one who had come to the White Lotus Academy and messed with the threads of Kung Lao’s very being to calm the monk down. He was the one who made sure that Kung Lao would never be able to become champion, no matter how much the monk craved it. He was the one who had used his powers selfishly to spy on Kung Lao and then use that information to further his own agenda. He was becoming like Kronika. The one god he swore to himself and Geras that he would never be.

Looking back up at the amulet, Liu Kang could feel the tendrils of temptation wrap around him, urging him, begging him, screaming at him to go to the amulet and go to the Shirai Ryu to find Kung Lao. If he did that, what else would he sacrifice, what other powers would he abuse, who would he kill?

Even earlier, he had thought that the pained cries of Raiden were so sweet just because it meant that Kung Lao was no longer with the champion. It was cruel, inhumane how Liu Kang was acting right now, how he was feeling about the suffering of others. Or perhaps his sick satisfaction was what still tied him back to his human past. Because no matter how hard Liu Kang tried, he was still and always going to be human until he learned to let go of his past, including Kitana. Including Kung Lao.