#broken timeline

"Life is life."

They hated those words. Always said with an almost condescending shake of the head when things didn't go their way. They hated them even more than they thought they ever could right then and there. The words may have not been meant in a condescending way this time, but how could someone just... say that? Everyone knew that they hated those words- that their friend had hated those words as well. So why did he think that that was okay to say at their friend's funeral? Those words weren't comforting in any shape or form and definitely had no right to be said in a funeral. Were they expected to just shrug this- the death of their best friend- off and just get on with their life?! To act as if nothing happened, as if nothing changed?!

Because that day, everything changed.

Everyone knew that what happened couldn't have been an accident. It was a murder. There was an investigation. But in the end, no one knew who did it. There were only a few leads, all of which led to dead ends. In the end, the murder of their friend was labeled a cold case. A mystery that would never be solved. Would they never truly get closure?

Who else never got closure?

They decided to become a detective. They were determined to do their best to make sure that as many cases as possible were solved. Nothing else was important to them. Their priority would always be to find the truth. Each and every case that they solved was done so with brutal efficiency. They pushed away any emotions that would cause them to be biased during a case. They wouldn't let their emotions blind them, though they may use their emotions to continue their drive to solve.

Then they found the pocket watch.

They had known that they had to be careful. If they were able to find the evidence in the present and were able to use it to solve the case, then they would. They started using the pocket watch to travel back in time to solve cold cases. Of course, it was difficult. They couldn't let themself (?) be seen, and they didn't have the resources that they had in the present. They couldn't interfere. But they had to know. History might not, but they would. ... They were giving so many people closure, so why can't they get closure?

They went back to the past- to the time where their friend died.

They couldn't help it. They had to know! But- could they really let their friend die again? They interfered.

And their timeline began to fall apart.

They knew that they had messed up - they had to fix their mistake! After all, they had always told themself (?) that the only things that really mattered were the truth and the timeline. But to fix their mistake... they had let their emotions blind them. It was time to fix their mistake. They couldn't let their emotions blind them again. They took a deep breath. It's the only way.

They went back in time... and this time they killed their friend themselves (?)

It didn't fix their timeline, not quite. It had taken the torn-up remains of their timeline and made a new one. Yet, they bitterly realized, they were the only remaining thing- or, well, person- left of their timeline. They watched this new timeline. Their friend was dead- of course, but this time, they were the murderer- and the funeral went exactly as it had before. This timeline's version of them was on the path to becoming a detective. Maybe they were always meant to be a detective...

What if this one finds their own version of the pocket watch?

They watched as the younger detective began time traveling. As the other lived the life that they once lived. At times they entered the new timeline and pulled a few strings, interfering just a little. Just to help out the younger version of themselves (?) a little. To their surprise, when the younger version of them went back in time to that case, they didn't try to save their friend. The guilt grief and sadness that the other felt was genuine yet they didn't try to go back enough to save their friend. They had followed the rules. What made them so different?

Then they realized that they hated this newer- this better- version of themselves(?)

They were the one making sure that things were going as they should. Yet the younger one was the one who lived the life that they used to have, that they wanted. This detective was happier and far more addicted to coffee than the first detective ever was after their friend was killed (well, minus the coffee. The new detective was almost as obsessed with coffee as they were when it came to finding the truth.). They literally had almost the exact same origin story! They gritted their teeth. We always did chase after the truth, isn't that right? Let me give you the truth with no investigating this time, little detective.

They interfered again.

They went up to the younger detective, who looked confused and frustrated. They couldn't blame them. After all, it's hard to find out who the killer is when they're literally an alternate version of you that shouldn't exist, right? They smirked, and told the detective the truth.

Ever since then, they hated each other.

... Wouldn't you do the same if you were in their shoes?

~~~~~

From the First Detective's point of view: They destroyed their own timeline and killed their own best friend to try to fix their mistake. The newer version of them is living the life that they wanted! The younger one wouldn't exist or be having as an easy of a life as they're having right now if it weren't for them! The least the new detective could do is say "thank you" or show some respect at the very least.

“Hey, Liu, you ah… gunna get rid of this creepy shit?” Johnny Cage gestured to the gathered bits of the time titan, left upon a flat-topped rock which pulsed with primordial energy. He had not placed it there, so naturally, he assumed Liu Kang had done so. Hovering near the hourglass, gently manipulating the sands, the fire god grunted, indicating that he would answer when he had a moment. Accustomed to this response, Johnny circled the thing he was now thinking of as a plinth, eyeballing the “titan chunks” with disgusted fascination and an appropriate look upon his face. He envisioned himself sweeping the bits into one of those old in-wall incinerators that were in his time, somehow, not a fire hazard. He remembered trying to explain them to Cassie. His folks had one—or they had, back in the day, when they were both alive, for the few shining years they had lived together and tried to pretend things could be normal. He didn’t think of his father as a father and his mother… well, they’d been distant from the start, had grown closer as Cassie grew, and now she was gone. Johnny always felt like a mistake. They were never happy. They shouldn’t have gotten hitched, shouldn’t have had him, shouldn’t have—

“Johnny, don’t,” a soft voice warned. It was accompanied by a soft, warm touch upon his shoulder. Liu Kang gripped him a little harder, then, making certain his signal was received. “Lord Raiden warned me not to look too long at the essence of time—she’s gone, but her… power isn’t.”

He had set his krown aside, placing it on another flat-topped rock, close to the hourglass and far from where they now stood. On many occasions, Johnny had expressed extreme discomfort with the thing, citing that it “screamed like a million souls in pain and terror”. Liu Kang could not hear it, but that didn’t mean Johnny couldn’t. He trusted his friend and while the actor had a penchant for the dramatic, he didn’t make things up and not about that—never that.

“Okay, so is that why you keep her… it… the uh… chunks around?” Johnny turned toward his divine companion and for a moment, their eyes met. He could see the debate upon the former monk’s features as clear as day. He had become clever, a vicious strategist during his time as king of Netherrealm, certainly, but he could do nothing to control his face. Johnny frowned.

“You’re right,” Liu Kang admitted, shaking his head and looking apologetic. He grasped Johnny’s face on either side and gently kiss his lips, a chaste gesture, but full of deep passion that spoke of much and more to come. If he was trying to distract the new thunder god, it was working. But he was not. Not this time. “We are in this together—Raiden chose you because this isn’t a burden one man should bear alone.”

“Or woman,” said Johnny helpfully.

“Oh no, I think a woman could bear it alone without trouble,” asserted the monk, moving off to a sheltered area where they could sit and speak. Johnny snickered and pictured Sonya Blade, Kitana, Jade, and Sheeva as gods. They would have had things in tip top shape before he could blink. They would just have to work extra hard to compensate. He hoped that’s what this was about. Johnny just didn’t know how bits of a fallen titan might help. They grossed him right the fuck out.

Liu Kang sat, straight-backed, in a meditative pose, and began to hover gently a few feet off the ground. Johnny stretched out, hands behind his head, and did the same. “So what’s going on? What’s with bite-sized Kronika bits over there?”

“Before she died, she absorbed Cetrion, the Elder God of order,” said Liu Kang, “and with her, the other Earthrealm elementals, who were never autonomous gods, like Lord Fujin and Lord Raiden, but aspects of her. She commanded earth elements, but could not touch the sky because the sky…”

“Belongs to our guys,” Johnny filled in, “and to chaos.”

The fire god stiffened a little, but conceded the point. “Yes, so… you know about that.”

“I know a lotta shit I shouldn’t, babe,” said Johnny without looking at his friend. His eyes were skyward—or.. whatever was up there in the explosive, howling void. He crossed his legs at the ankles and nodded. “But how’s that different?”

“Shinnok,” said Liu, not bothering with a title; the fiend deserved none, “birthed them in a way Cetrion did not; Lord Raiden told me they were to have been one, ideally to replace him, but as two, as twins, they could not.”

“Okay skipping over the bizarre fucking revelation that those two are twins, uh… what?”

“You are caught on that?” Liu’s voice was incredulous, but amused. Of course he is, he thought fondly.

“Life’s in the details, man—c’mon what’d you expect?”

“Nothing less.”

They paused a long moment and took stock of each other. Johnny Cage had taken some time to become accustomed to the infinity of their new home, that they could spend however long they pleased or needed doing whatever they needed to do, because time had yet to begin. The source of it all was under Liu Kang’s control. It was a heady draught, but one he was handling admirably. There were nights when he would awaken sobbing and clutching hard at the thunder god’s chest, because they were ascended mortals and still required SOME form of rest, but for the most part, Liu Kang had the precise temperament needed to control the fickle sands of time. Johnny admired that about him, but he recognized the strain.

“The important part is,” Liu Kang said, insistent upon continuing, “I have... learned a way to extract the elemental essences from Kronika’s body.”

Johnny did not like the pause which came before “learned”, but he opted to ignore it, focusing instead upon the meat of the sentence. “So you can like, turkey baste that shit out and… what, stuff it in a jar or somethin’?”

“Not a jar,” said Liu Kang gravely. “A jar would not hold the element of earth, or of water… The vessel must be stronger, much stronger.”

“Oh, so like… oh shit—like a person? Like you or me? I mean, YOU I get, you’re like… a turbomonk and The Chosen One™ or whatever, but I’m still wonderin’ how this whole thing worked for my ass.”

Johnny had so little appreciation for himself, even now, and for what he could do, what he was and what he represented. Liu Kang looked at Johnny with such a depth of melancholic fondness, it would have broken the man’s heart, had he seen it. He did not, busy tracing shapes in the void with one finger raised, trailing a tail of lightning. Seeing the control Johnny Cage had over the element, the fire god knew Raiden had chosen correctly, despite what everyone else might have thought—and they did have thoughts.

“Yes,” he said, after several moments of contemplative silence, “like a person—two people, specifically.”

“And you’ve been thinkin’ about who, right?” Johnny sat up, still levitating. The effect was comical and Liu Kang smiled, nodding.

“Yes, and I wanted to ask you.” It felt right, since they were the first of the ascended mortals. Fujin had been in a sour mood since he had come back from his foray into the New Era—it was understandable, if irritating, but it was not Liu Kang’s place to judge how a man processed grief, nor a god—so he would not be contributing. All he had was Johnny Cage. What a prospect.

“Well shit that’s easy… Ya girl, Kitana—ten thousand years old, she’s seen some shit; we could use her… and Kung Lao, obviously. He’s your best friend, you trust him more than anyone else and yes, I DO know about the broom closet incident…s.” Johnny’s face was an impish mask of triumph as Liu Kang, god of fire and keeper of time, flushed to his hairline, eyes wide. He was pretty like that, surprised and taken aback. Johnny tallied his mental scoreboard. One for me.

“I—that is not—You have no idea what…!” Seldom did either of them have difficulty finding words; Johnny simply had them in more profusion, but Liu Kang was not the kind of man to get tongue-tied.

“I’ve got a few ideas, Liu baby,” said the actor with a snort. “Believe me, I’ve been around that block—er… dudes, not Kung Lao specifically… But y’know, if he was down…” His face became thoughtful then, as if he was contemplating some deep truth of the universe, not whether or not Kung Lao had nice lips. He did, if anyone was asking Johnny’s opinion.

“All right, we are… VERY finished with that discussion,” declared the fire god. He softened, and added, “but I came to the same conclusion. There is only one thing left…”

“And that is?”

“If either of them refuse, who else might take up the mantle?”

“Who’d refuse?”

“You wanted to,” Liu Kang pointed out. “And I would not have taken Lord Raiden’s divinity by choice, if there had been any other way to stop this madness.”

Johnny sagged a little, nodding. He had to admit, this whole “god” thing was a very much learn on the job type of deal. There wasn’t exactly a manual and all the gods they knew were dead, beheaded, or AWOL. His brain then began to work again, harder this time. Liu Kang could almost see it overheating, pouring steam from his ears. He reached out and touched the closest thing he could reach, which happened to be a knee. He squeezed which earned him an undignified, sharp grunt. Johnny was very ticklish in the strangest places.

“Cassie is a powerful warrior…”

“She won’t do it,” Johnny said. “After the meltdown she had at the reception…” He shook his head. “Hell no. Jacqui won’t leave Takeda and he is training to be Grandmaster after Toasty.”

“Jackson Briggs?”

“Too much baggage, and not the fun kind—ain’t his fault, but he’d do it out of a sense of forced obligation and he’s… he’s had it rough since Vera.” Johnny knew Jackson Briggs wanted to grow old and watch his grandbabies grow up. It was why he had allowed Kronika to seduce him with her promises of a new era where Jacqui would never have to fight and maybe he could have Vera back. Kronika had offered plenty of sour deals.

“What about that… police officer?” Liu Kang was embarrassed to admit he did not know the man’s name immediately.

“Stryker? Kurtis Stryker?” Johnny did because Raiden had and the name was unique. Their eyes met and for several seconds, they sat in stony silence.

“No.”

“Nope.”

The words came out at once and suddenly the two had dissolved into helpless, deep, belly laughter. Liu was wiping tears from his eyes before they were finished and Johnny was holding his cheeks as if they pained him.

Johnny’s laughter actually dropped him to the debatably stone surface beneath him, which only made his companion laugh harder. Tears flowed from both sets of glowing eyes, clattering in silvery-diamond bits about them. Only when Johnny regained himself did he take note and reached over to pick a piece up. “Liu, what’s this shit?”

“Mythril,” said the former monk between subsiding snorts of laughter, “it—it’s the tears of a god, solidified when they leave your body.”

“Is it worth somethin’?”

“It is almost priceless. How often does a god weep?” Once more, they looked at each other. Liu Kang could see the dollar signs, even behind Johnny’s sunglasses—or maybe they were holographically superimposed into the lenses. With Johnny Cage, one could never be sure and that was, in part, why Liu loved him so much. He settled to the ground and scooped up a few, arranging them upon his palm. “Useless to us without some kind of forge, however.”

“Uh… Liu,” said Johnny, one eyebrow raised, looking out over his shades, “are you forgettin’ somethin’?”

Liu Kang met his eyes steadily for several moments before flushing a bright gold across his cheeks. “Oh!”

This encouraged yet another bout of healing laughter and soon they were in each other’s arms, slapping backs and shaking heads. They allowed this round to last as long as it needed, sensing the necessity of such a sound in this quiet, sacred place. It somehow made the Dawn of Time into something like a home, weird as it was. When the burst of mirth finally ebbed, Johnny laid his head upon his friend’s bare, broad shoulder and traced the lines of one of Liu Kang’s tattoos on his opposite arm, sighing. “Okay, so where’re we goin’ first? I say we chat up the Empress—or try and get an audience… is that how it works?”

“I think she may make an exception for deities,” said Liu Kang. “Or maybe just for friends.”

“Okay but if I gotta take a number and get in line, I’m calling my manager.”

~

“You wanted to see me alone, Liu Kang?” Kitana addressed him without title and did not seem to notice Johnny immediately. She had witnessed Liu Kang’s transformation and was infinitely more intrigued by Earthrealm’s chosen one than it’s top-billed actor. That was fine with Johnny, because her palace was fascinating and he was currently begging a tour from a couple of guards who didn’t seem to want to look him in the eyes. His struggle continued as Liu spoke to his old ally and friend.

“It is a… delicate matter,” he explained.

“So why did you bring him?” She gestured sharply toward Johnny Cage, who was finally being led toward one of the doors by what looked like an intrepid Osh-Tekk child. She was chattering away at Johnny, who nodded and grunted in turns as she grasped his hand and eagerly showed him around the Kahnum’s palace—or was it the Empress? Johnny couldn’t remember which was the correct title. He’d just been ballparking when he said “Empress”, but that was true with most of his life.

“You underestimate Johnny Cage,” said Liu Kang, his tone bearing a note of warning.

“Well,” she amended, “Jade’s daughter seems to like him well enough and that is rare. She is a… withdrawn child.”

“He was a father before he was a god,” Liu reminded her, “and that means much.”

She nodded, conceding the point and then turning back to him with a look of regret upon her fine-featured face. In regal garb, she was resplendent, every bit the empress her mother once had been, perhaps more. There was a fierceness in her eyes and a steel behind her smile that Sindel did not have, however. Kitana knew the rigors of war personally, the fear of loss and failure, the precarious position of being a spy and a rebel in her own home. She held her head high and Liu Kang rather thought she deserved that. 

Khan of Outworld she might have been by right of konquest, but she was the heir to the Edenian throne by birth and that project was well under way. She and the other rulers were determined that this would be the beginning of a golden era for the whole realm. Thus far, they were off to an auspicious start. In fact, it seemed the affairs of state were being fairly well balanced between the three members of the new Outworld triarchy, they being Queen Sheeva of the Shokan, Baraka, representing the restored Tarkata people, and Kotal Kahn, whose crown Kitana had returned to him. He was Kitana’s right hand in the affair of a sovereign Edenia, politically-speaking. Jade was, as ever, her left. Kitana had a knack, Liu Kang thought, for surrounding herself with competent advisors. He hoped he was doing the same.

“I am sorry, Lord Liu Kang,” she said, bowing deeply to him and using his title, which made him nervous, to say the least. He reached out to raise her from the debased position and she straightened, clearly more comfortably looking him in the eyes. She shook her head. “I cannot leave my people when they most need me. There is much yet to do in Outworld, as I am certain you know. This is my chance to make a place for Edenians… for any who might be left and I—”

“I understand, Kitana Kahn… ah, forgive me, Queen Kitana,” he said, smiling gently, benevolently, in that strangely ageless way he had always been able to do. Now it was his turn to bow. “I take no offense and I wish you well.”

“Will you and… Lord Johnny Cage be joining us for dinner?” The man’s name and title seemed to stick in her mouth and Liu Kang had to suppress a laugh. Johnny was Hollywood royalty, but to a woman like Kitana, he must have seemed a clown, despite his many feats of bravery and self-sacrifice. And the fact that he is clearly a mime.

“He prefers Johnny, if that helps,” said the former monk with a smile, “and… if it is not too much trouble, yes.”

She seemed relieved when she smiled and moved forward to embrace him. “Not at all,” Kitana assured her divine guest. “You are always welcome in my palace.”

A child’s shrieking laughter resounded from down the hall whence Johnny had just been led with Jade’s daughter towing him like a tugboat drags a freighter. Both Kitana and Liu Kang looked up to see the girl on the thunder god’s broad shoulders, arms out wide, laughing hysterically as he ran back up the hall holding her small, dark shins. She squealed happily as he turned back around and the peals of mirth receded. Marveling at his friend’s alacrity and, more than that, his mastery of the element Raiden struggled to contain, he could not help recalling that his mentor-turned-mortal had given up that same essence, that which he WAS, for the price of holding his baby. Johnny did not even need to do that. The child riding on his shoulders was perfectly safe. Liu Kang watched him, but Kitana watched Liu Kang. Her eyes narrowed a moment and then she nodded, as if understanding all.

“I was mistaken,” she said quietly, watching them go. Liu Kang turned toward her and Kitana elaborated. “Lord Raiden chose wisely. Forgive my insolence—the prejudices of the old.”

“You are still young, Kitana,” Liu Kang insisted, lifting her once more. She smiled and shook her head.

“And you are still kind and gentle... and maybe a little charming,” she said, gesturing to indicate a small amount, “but just a little. I can see the bright torch you carry, Liu Kang, and it is not for me.”

Liu Kang flushed and stammered, but Kitana shook her head and smiled, pointing toward another door. “Let me show the gardens.”

They walked in silence for a few moments before Liu Kang found his voice. “These gardens are new?”

“Kotal had intended them as a gift for our beloved, so I saw no need to stop him. In fact, he came to me for help. They are in the Edenian fashion.” She was proud of her work and of Jade’s taste in men. Liu Kang could hear the pride in her voice, could see it on her face. She wore it well. It was not so much a haughty mask as part of her ensemble, complementing her ageless beauty and the steel in her eyes. Only in those dark orbs could one begin to guess at her age. They were not tired, but storied. Liu Kang wanted to know a few more of those stories, but perhaps now was not the time.

She led him through a few arched doorways until presently their way opened up to a large courtyard with columns supporting yet more arches. All of these were white and draped excessively with vines of all shades of green. On some of these vines hung the most beautiful, vibrant, fragrant flowers upon which Liu Kang had ever laid his eyes. He felt something rise in his throat and experienced a prickling sensation at the corners of those awed eyes. Kitana was pleased with this, too. She had never doubted the gentleness of his heart.

“I remember the gardens at my father's palace in Edenia,” she said, pulling a flower from a tall, tree-like plant and turning to place it in Liu Kang’s hair. She did this with liquid grace and not a single thought to how strange it might have seemed to a native Earthrealmer. She grabbed another for herself and did the same. “I was young then, but I still remember it clearly. Mother showed me… so much—she loved me so much, Liu Kang… my heart aches, even now, for what she became.”

“What was done to her was a gross injustice, Kitana. I will not allow it in my New Era.”

“No,” she said, her voice sharpening momentarily. “What must be done… must be done.” She took his hands and squeezed them hard. “You are a good man, a just man… but you must also be hard. Gods cannot always feel happiness. Sometimes you must lose something to gain something… and when you gain something, you lose something. I am not a god, but Edenians are of divine blood. I will live long and see many things rise and fall—I have already done so. You may trust my words.”

He did.

He trusted them because they were Raiden’s words, as well. He wondered how a mortal, even one with such longevity, could be so wise. He hoped that he could achieve such wisdom—and maybe a little more quickly than in 10,000 years. He still had the hourglass to tend, after all. Liu Kang nodded. “I promise, Kitana. I will move the sands of time justly and with all thought to every grain…”

It was a daunting task and they both knew it. She nodded in return, satisfied, and released his hands. He lamented her refusal of his offer to join the new pantheon, but delighted in the progress she had made toward restoring Edenia. She explained how once that was finished, she would install herself as Empress, as was her birthright, with the Osh-Tekk people fairly represented in her parliament. “There are other, smaller factions I would offer asylum, as well, but for the time being, the Osh-Tekk are the largest surviving group of native Edenians.”

She did not elaborate on why that was so. Their sun-worshipping was secondary only to the power of their blood magic and Shao Kahn would have coveted that above most others. Liu Kang was wise enough to make that connection without her verbal prompting. He nodded, glad she was rebuilding with such effective rapidity.

“The Lin Kuei?” He asked suddenly. Kitana paused and pursed her lips.

“I had considered, but they have aligned so completely with Earthrealm…” She shrugged, intimating that the “alliance” between the kryomancer clan and the Shirai-Ryu would most likely tie the Lin Kuei to their once-estranged brethren and therefore to Earthrealm for quite some time. “Maybe in the future, but they have taken their place as defenders of Earthrealm. I would not presume to take that from them.”

Liu Kang nodded. It was a wise decision. As a Grandmaster, Kuai Liang was much more reasonable than his predecessors, but when it came to Grandmaster Hasashi… Well, Sub-Zero had him well in hand, at least. That was the most he could hope for, in the long run—that, and Scorpion’s violent loyalty to the cause of defending Earthrealm from her aggressors. None could stand before his hellfire.

“It is… somewhat funny,” she said after a few moments of silence, “but before all of this… before you… ascended,” Kitana continued, gesturing to the entirety of the fire god, “I had thought to er… what is the phrase…” She pursed her lips in a way that made her seem much, much younger.

“I can understand all tongues now, Kitana, even those of Outworld,” said Liu Kang, raising a brow.

“I know,” she replied, “but this one… this phrase is crass and I do not mean it to be.”

He laughed quietly. “You cannot offend me, Kitana.”

“Let us say I had thought to request your… time with a…” She waved her hand. “Never mind, never mind.” Was she blushing? Well, she did not want to share more and Liu Kang was too polite to press. She turned away from him to collect herself presently and he thought he heard her mutter something about “Earthrealmer anatomy”, but once more, he did not pry. Clearing her throat, she returned her attention to him.

“Who else… if it is not too personal a question…?” She did not need to specify that she spoke of the potential candidates for Liu Kang’s pantheon. The fire god shook his head.

“It isn’t,” he assured her, “and we only had a few. Kung Lao leapt to mind.”

She noted how his tone brightened when he said his friend’s name and it warmed her ancient heart to hear him speak with such fondness of someone—even if that someone had a few things to learn from Liu Kang’s humility. She had come to know Kung Lao well over the past few years, however, having learned to appreciate his temperament and finding him much more pleasant company than anticipated. It was through him that she had discovered… Earthrealmer anatomy. The liaison had been not unpleasant, but certainly surprising for both of them. It was their first and last, parting on friendly terms, of course, and he had not shied away from contact thereafter. They had become close friends, in fact, though she saw him less as his duties at the Wu-Shi academy had increased.

“He has become wise,” she admitted, “though his arrogance might still be curbed.” Kitana affected her old, haughty tone, but it was clear from the sparkle in her eyes that she knew better. She was willing to admit, after all, that Johnny Cage was more than he seemed. Why not Kung Lao, whom she now knew well. “He is your best friend,” the empress added after a moment, laying a hand upon Liu Kang’s shoulder, “and I think he is worthy.”

He nodded. “Thank you, Kitana. It means much that you say so.”

 “Worthy of what?” The voice startled only Liu Kang. Kitana’s smile was broad, warm, and mischievous as she turned toward the source of the question.

“Oh,” she said after a few moments, relishing the young god’s surprise. “It must have slipped my mind. I had invited Kung Lao to stay a few weeks with us at the palace, for rest from his duties at the temple of light.”

Liu Kang nodded numbly, suddenly confronted with the fact that he intended to ask his best friend if he would consent to ascend and become a god, to protect all realms, to stand between them and whatever darkness might lay beyond the bounds of time and space, to give up everything for which he had worked. He swallowed hard and turned also to face Lao, who was emerging from deeper in the gardens, stretching and affecting a yawn that turned into a real one. Evidently, he had been sleeping.

He hopped over a few marble platforms placed level with a still pool to join the two, the god and the ruler, on the closer bank. His grace and balance were, as ever, remarkable and, as ever, Liu Kang marveled over them. He had always admired Kung Lao, though the latter had never quiet believed him—perhaps he couldn’t or didn’t want to; Liu Kang was unsure—when he assured Lao that this was so. But it was.

“Are you deaf, now, Liu Kang, or has Kitana’s presence taken your tongue?” He gestured to the soon-to-be-Empress of Edenia and she smiled and waved him off.

“Flatterer,” she accused, “but it works, so do continue.”

He made a deep bow over the hand she had used to flail about and held it, squeezing tightly before standing.

“Your wish is my command, flower of Edenia.” This one, he had stolen from Kotal, who had been speaking to Jade in these very same gardens. Lao had found that hiding amongst the vines and flowers was an excellent way to garner palace gossip. It was fascinating, the politics that went on in the confines of these walls alone. He appreciated the simplicity of the academy, but sometimes, he craved a little more excitement. His was a great responsibility and he would not pretend that it was not also a great honor to serve where mightier, wiser men than he had once done so. But there was more out there, in the other realms, that he would never see as an academy instructor.

He tugged his braid so that it settled, glossy and black, on one shoulder, regarding his old friend thoughtfully. Liu Kang’s eyes were strange. The glowing was odd, but there was a depth to them that no mortal man could have encompassed. It frightened Kung Lao, in a way, but exhilarated him, as well. He wanted to know it better, to be closer, ever closer, to its immensity. There were realms in those eyes, whole dimensions of space and time, and here he was, taking a vacation in Outworld because he was tired of barking at students.

“Kung Lao, I…” Liu Kang trailed off and then looked up and around for Kitana. He did not know when she had done it, but the woman was gone, melting into the dappled sun-shadows of the gardens and leaving him on his own with this immense burden. He had presented it to her so matter-of-factly—why was this hard?

“You what?” Lao did not seem bothered by her disappearance. Clearly, his friend had something important to say and was suddenly having trouble saying it. This worried Lao and made him absolutely sure that whatever it was, it must be vital. He clicked his tongue. “Liu Kang, please,” he pleaded, eyebrows knitting, “if there is something you must say, I’d hear it… Because I was napping and you two woke me up,” he teased. “And I would like to get back there. I’ve got a spot in the moss that is—”

“I need you with me, Kung Lao,” Liu Kang blurted suddenly, hands on his friend’s upper arms, holding tightly as if the man might drift away from him, should he let go, in some strange, unknowable current. Liu Kang had the distinct impression that if he did not take this opportunity, he would never get another that was so ideal. Overhead, the sun shone gently through the flower petals and vines and leaves making up the pseudo “roof” of the otherwise open kourtyard. The play of light and shadow made the place almost ethereal, nearly unreal. But it was real, they were both real, and the situation, too, was real. Time marched forward in this place, as in most, and with it, the moment of opportunity.

“You need me… with you? Where? Has something happened to Cage?” Dark brows furrowed and lips puckered in a concerned frown. Liu Kang had always loved that frown. It meant his friend cared, deeply, for what he was saying, or what was happening. He also loved the way Lao’s frankly lush lips seemed to swell in these states of high emotion.

“Nothing is wrong with Johnny,” responded the fire god soothingly. “Well,” he amended after a moment’s thought, “nothing that was not already amiss.”

This made both of them, current and former monk, laugh aloud, their voices echoing off the marble and water and becoming lost up in the foliage above and all around. For the second time in a very short span, Liu Kang felt himself laughing as if all his insides were filled with butterflies, trapped and trying to break free. He reflected that Kitana’s wisdom in staying with her people was twofold. She had understood something he had not. She would have been an excellent asset to him, and likely would always be, in her way. But he needed Kung Lao.

“Kung Lao,” said Liu Kang after a few full breaths and a decision to rip off the proverbial bandaid. “I am in need of another god, someone who will help me protect the realms and my sanity, if that is possible. I want you.”

Kung Lao flushed a deep crimson, that color Liu Kang loved so much. It splashed across cheeks and nose and the fire god could see the Kung family resemblance in the freckles Lao shared with his nephew, Jin.

“I… my duties at the academy…” Lao spoke stiffly.

“Are boring you to tears,” supplied Liu Kang helpfully, “and if they have not yet begun, they will. You have always been the adventurous one, a-Lao. I love that about you. Please say yes. Please be my… water god.”

Kung Lao’s head bobbed up and down, dark eyes wide and blinking rapidly, the rims going red with the prickle of unwanted, incoming tears. “Yes,” he said quietly, keeping his voice a harsh whisper, for fear of what it might do if he attempted to speak. “But how?”

Liu Kang’s hands found either side of Kung Lao’s face and held it gently, studying the features, the beautiful, almond eyes, the high cheekbones, the gorgeous lips he had kissed swollen so many times when they were young. He moved gently, pressing his mouth to those plump lips, tasting whatever herbs Lao had been chewing before dozing off.

All thoughts of the despair and hopelessness Kung Lao had felt at the Fire Gardens fled. It was a lifetime ago, when their friends had assembled to battle a titan for the protection of not only Earthrealm, but all realms. He recalled his meditations at the pool, how they had been interrupted by angry tears of regret. He had loved Liu Kang so fiercely and had never been able to express that due to his own fear. He had not been able to hold onto the man, had lost him to Johnny Cage, of all people. These things, too, fled and he was left with an all-encompassing sense of… of what….?

He was drowning, pressed on all sides by something he could not name. But he could breathe! Miraculously, Kung Lao took several deep breaths, when an absence of his friend’s lips allowed it. He felt lighter, but infinitely more powerful all of a sudden. He ran hands over his arms, his chest, his face, expecting to feel different under his own touch.

“You will become accustomed to it,” Liu Kang assured him. “I promise.”

“What of Cage?”

“What about me?” Johnny stood at the head of the stairway down which Liu Kang and Kitana had walked. He was absent the child, who had likely raced off for supper. Johnny was craving some good Outworld grub, himself, though he was aware they did not have to eat. Sometimes, it was the little things.

“You…” Kung Lao blushed again, but this time it was gold and shone on his cheeks like fine dust. Johnny regarded that look and wondered if an eternity was long enough to convince a couple of bombshell monks to try a threeway. He was willing to give it a shot.

“Hey,” Johnny warned, one finger up, “It was you or Stryker, so… Y’know…”

“It was a tough call,” said Liu Kang, his voice taking on a contemplative tone, as if he had entertained the thought for more than the time it took Johnny to supply the name and then laugh himself silly about it. He foresaw much laughter in their future, in fact, more than they had perhaps had in their collective lifetime. Tossing an arm about his friend’s shoulders, he was delighted to see steam rise from the contact of divine fire and water.