#fujin

Kung Jin starts to speak; Aiko does not let the hesitation stand.

“Call it wrath if you want. Call it the part of him that refuses to watch another realm fall while we debate. I will not stand here and listen to the same caution that left Outworld to the rebels in the first place! He is not asking permission to become a tyrant. He is preparing to finish what was left unfinished.”

Liu’s eyes lift. The glow in them is no longer dim. Red-tinged fire coils along his arms—controlled, deliberate, no longer the uncontrolled surge that killed Sindel, but the same decisive force that erased Havik.

Aiko looks at him, then back at the others. “You can stay here and call it too dangerous. Or you can stop treating his power like a disease and let him use it the way it was meant to be wielded—against the ones who are actually rising. I am staying with him either way.”

Liu’s voice is low, steady, edged with the wrath he no longer bothers to hide. “The rebels believe the Fire God retreated in shame. They are wrong.”

He turns toward the portal forming at the far side of the chamber. Aiko took a deep breath to calm her nerves before she fell into step beside him without hesitation, cardiokinesis ready—not to restrain the darkness, but to support it, to keep his heart steady while the full force of it is aimed outward once more.

Behind them, the caution remains. Ahead of them, the rebels are about to learn what happens when the wrath is no longer held back by interference or self-doubt—and when someone finally chooses to stand with it instead of against it.

The portal is already opening when the protests rise. Fujin steps forward, wind stirring at his feet. “Liu Kang, wait. If you go in like this—unrestrained—the risk of another loss of control is too great. We cannot afford another Sindel.”

Kung Jin adds, quieter but firm, “The daughters are already broken over what happened. If you burn through Outworld the same way—”

Others join in—caution, fear, the same refrain that the darkness is taking him. Hands lift, not yet in violence but in the clear intent to block the portal, to slow him, to stop him from acting while the wrath is this visible.

Liu does not slow.

The red-tinged fire along his arms flares brighter. He does not shout. He simply moves. A controlled surge of power shoves the air itself outward—forceful enough to drive the protesters back without burning them, without killing, but absolute in its refusal to be hindered. The message is wordless and unmistakable: he will not be stopped again.

Aiko stays at his shoulder the entire time. When one of the more insistent voices tries to reach for him, her cardiokinesis snaps out in a sharp, defensive pulse that makes the person stagger, heart stuttering just long enough to break their momentum. She does not apologize.

“He told you the rebels believe he retreated in shame,” she says, voice cutting through the chamber. “Every second you spend trying to hold him back is another second they dig in deeper. Move.”

Liu released a streak of fire and lightning toward Fujin full force before he stepped through the portal. Aiko follows without hesitation. What happens on the other side is swift and decisive.

The rebel forward camp never has time to fully form ranks. Liu Kang descends in a storm of fire and crimson lightning—no wild, grief-driven surge this time, but focused, relentless wrath aimed only at the enemy. Anarchist banners blacken and collapse. Chaos-infused warriors who thought the Fire God broken are reduced to ash before they can finish their war cries. Some of Reiko’s commanders try to rally; the ones who stand their ground are erased. The ones who flee carry the image of a god who no longer hesitates.

"You have chosen to defy peace... Then you have chosen war. With a god."

Aiko still unwaveringly remains close, her cardiokinesis woven through the battle like a second pulse, both offensively as well as draining their lifeforces like an enormous vacuum. or as large as Andross deathly maw! She does not restrain the darkness. She feeds it steadiness—keeping Liu’s heart from tipping back into the uncontrolled spike that killed Sindel, giving him just enough of her own energy to stay precise while the full force of his power does what it was meant to do. When a stray blast of rebel sorcery comes too close, she takes the hit on her own shield of heart-energy rather than let it interrupt him. With anchoring his heart, it actually steadied her astraphobia whenever Liu used his electric powers. Somehow...she knew he will not harm her... Just as long as she doesn't interfere.

By the time the main rebel concentration breaks, the field is quiet except for the crackle of dying flames. The uprising’s momentum is shattered in a single, brutal strike. Survivors scatter. The message is carried with them: the Fire God did not fall. He returned, and he did not come to negotiate.

When Liu finally stands still, the red lightning fades to a low, controlled burn along his arms. He looks at the destruction, then at Aiko. There is no triumph in his expression—only the grim knowledge of what was required, and the residual weight of everything that came before.

Aiko meets his gaze, still catching her breath from the energy she spent supporting him. “You did what they tried to stop,” she says quietly. “And the realms are safer for it. Darkness used with purpose. That’s all this was.”

Behind them, through the still-open portal, the voices of caution will eventually follow. Some will call it proof he is gone. Some will call it necessary. Liu no longer waits for their verdict. He has already acted.

And with Aiko beside him, the wrath did not consume him, nor did it wound nor scare her—it finished the fight.

-----------------

The portal closes behind them. The chamber is quiet again, the only light the low, steady fire that answers Liu’s presence. The smell of scorched earth and ozone still clings faintly to both of them. The rebel forward camp is broken; the immediate uprising has been crushed. But the cost of doing it without the others’ approval sits heavy in the air.

Aiko turns to him. Her own energy is still depleted from the cardiokinesis she spent keeping his heart steady through the fight, yet her first concern is not herself.

“How’re you feeling…?”

Liu is silent for a long moment. The red-tinged fire along his arms has settled back into a controlled glow. He flexes one hand, watching the residual power move under his skin, then lets it fall.

“Clearer,” he answers at last, voice low. “The wrath is still there. It did not take me. But I can feel what it cost to use it this way… and what it will cost when we face the others.”

Aiko nods slowly. She glances toward the entrance of the chamber, already imagining the confrontation waiting beyond it—Fujin’s caution, Kung Jin’s worry, the grief still raw in Kitana, Mileena, and Jade, the accusations that will come because he refused to be stopped.

“I’m not sure how to explain this to them,” she admits. “They saw you push past them. They saw the fire. Some of them will only see the same darkness that killed Sindel. They won’t want to hear that it was controlled, or that the rebels were rising because we left the field the first time.”

She steps closer, resting a hand lightly against his arm—not transferring energy this time, just anchoring. “We can’t do this alone. Not the next fight, not the one after that. Outworld is still broken. The rebels will regroup eventually. Even with stronger generals. Shinnok’s shadow is still out there. If the others stay set against you… against us… it will keep costing more than it has to.” Her throat clenches and her chest pains.

Liu looks down at her hand clutching her heart, then meets her eyes. The regret over Sindel has not vanished. The knowledge that the daughters may never fully forgive him has not vanished. But the lost, adrift quality from the earlier retreat is gone. The wrath has been used, aimed, and survived.

“Then we will face them together,” he says. “I will not pretend the power is gentle. I will not apologize for finishing what was necessary. But I will not let their fear become another wall that leaves the realms unprotected.”

Aiko’s tired smile is small but real. “Good. Because I’m still not leaving. Even if explaining it turns into another fight.”

She stays at his side as the distant sound of approaching footsteps begins to echo from the corridor. The others are coming. The reckoning for what Liu just did—and for Aiko’s open support of it—is about to begin.

They will not face it alone.

---------------------------------------------

As soon as they step out of the chamber...

Fujin is first, wind already stirring with restrained tension. Kung Jin stands close behind him. Kitana is present but silent, arms folded, grief still carved into her face. Mileena’s golden eyes are hard; Jade keeps a protective stance near her. The air is thick with the same judgment that followed Sindel’s death.

Fujin’s voice is controlled but edged. “You pushed past us. You unleashed that power again without restraint, without counsel. After what happened with Sindel, I will have no choice but to peruse you whenever you get involved with the Outworld rebels. You've been disobeying me and let our control be in vain! If this continues, I may have no choice but to—”

Aiko steps forward so sharply the others actually pause. The exhaustion from earlier is still in her body, but it is buried under a sudden, fierce heat. Her cardiokinesis flares visibly—green-gold light crackling around her fists as her heart-rate spikes with pure protective fury.

“Enough!!” The word cracks through the corridor like a whip as did the end of her hand swiped. “You are doing it again. Standing here confronting him like he is the problem, like the only danger in the realms is the Fire God’s wrath. Have you all lost the ability to look at anything else!?”

She turns first on Mileena. “You lost Outworld. Your rule was already fracturing under the rebels before Liu ever set foot back on that field. He even heard you say just that in his vision! You needed help and still acted on your own! Then found time to add to the pile of blame when he answered the call the only way left that worked.”

Her gaze snaps to Kitana. “And you. You were not there when the anarchists and Havik were tearing through the lines. You were not there when the choice was finishing the threat or watch more of your people fall. You arrived in time to grieve and to judge, but not in time to stand beside him when the hard strike was required. No reconciliation whatsoever when Liu was overwhelmed! He may have killed your mother, but you would've helped a little to settle his raging flames!”

Then she faces Fujin fully, eyes blazing. “And of course, you! The caution. The ‘wait, contain, do not risk the darkness.’ Call it wisdom if it helps you sleep. I call it cowardice. You saw him burn the chaos out of that battlefield and your first instinct was to restrain him instead of covering him. You flinched from the very power that ended Havik, and because of that hesitation the rebels were given the opening to rise again! Now you stand here ready to confront him for cleaning up the mess YOUR restraint helped create!”

Aiko’s power is still crackling around her fists when she drives the point deeper, refusing to let the silence settle. “And don’t stand there acting like this is only about Liu’s wrath. You want to talk about failures? Let’s talk about the ones that actually set the stage for all of this.” She locks eyes with Fujin.“You and Liu are gods. You have access to the Jinsei—the very life force of Earthrealm. When has either of you ever used it the way it was meant to be used when it was actually needed!? Not as a last-second bandage, not as a private recovery tool—when the realms were already burning and people were dying!! YOU held it back!! YOU treated it like something too sacred to spend, and the cost of that restraint keeps landing on everyone else!”

Her voice sharpens further. “And don’t pretend you were helpless after Sindel fell! You were still conscious. You were on your feet with Kung Jin’s help. You saw her go down. You saw the daughters break. And yet you STILL let the moment pass! You let her die without even attempting what a Wind God and the Jinsei together might have done. That was not powerlessness. That was oversight! No better than the Elder Gods! That was you choosing caution again while the window closed!”

She takes a step closer, the green-gold light around her flaring hotter. “This isn’t even the first time. Go all the way back. Shinnok’s Amulet. The Temple of Elements. You were one of the guardians. Bi-Han came for it, and you failed. You were suppressed, defeated, and the amulet was taken. Liu was still a novice then—he wasn’t even in the picture yet—but you were already a god, already entrusted with one of the most dangerous relics in existence, and you lost it. That failure let Shinnok’s shadow stretch further than it ever should have. And now you stand here ready to lecture Liu about control and darkness!? You don’t get to rewrite your own record! You are as foolhardy and spineless as your brother!!You're no DIFFERENT!!!”

Aiko’s chest is heaving. The words keep coming, raw and unfiltered. “Liu has carried the consequences of everyone else’s hesitation and failure—including yours—and the moment he stops hesitating, you all close ranks to treat him like the threat...! I am DONE watching it. He is not the only one who has fallen short. He is just the only one YOU keep punishing for finally refusing to fall short the same way you did!”

Her voice rises, raw and unfiltered. “All of you failed pieces of this. You left gaps. You second-guessed. You interfered. And the moment he uses the strength that actually turns the tide, you close ranks to treat him like the villain. I am done listening to it.”

She moves back to Liu’s side, still crackling with residual energy, still unwilling to give them an inch. “He is not your cautionary tale. He is the one who is still willing to do what the rest of you keep finding reasons not to. If you want to confront someone, confront the fact that your fear and your absences are part of why this keeps costing so much. Leave him alone—or help! Those are the only two options I will accept.”

The corridor falls into a stunned, brittle silence. No one speaks immediately. Aiko’s chest is cramping, her power still flickering around her, but she does not back down. She stays planted at Liu’s shoulder, the heart that finally refused to stay quiet while he was opposed once more.

Liu has remained silent through the entire outburst. He stands still as Aiko’s words strike the corridor—sharp, raw, and completely unfiltered. He watches her turn on Mileena, on Kitana, on Fujin, naming every failure and hesitation without softening a single edge. The crimson-gold flare of her cardiokinesis still crackles around her fists when she finishes and plants herself back at his shoulder, breathing hard, refusing to give ground.

For a moment the only sound is the residual hum of power in the air.

Liu’s gaze moves across the faces of the others—Fujin’s tightened jaw, Kitana’s wounded silence, Mileena’s anger, the discomfort in Kung Jin’s eyes—then returns to Aiko. Something shifts behind the steady fire in his own eyes. The residual weight of Sindel’s death, the guilt, the constant expectation that he must either apologize for his power or be condemned by it, does not vanish. But for the first time since the retreat, it is not the loudest thing in him.

He turns fully toward her.

The last of Aiko’s words still hang in the corridor when the fight drains out of her all at once.

The red-gold crackle of her cardiokinesis sputters and dies. Her shoulders drop. The fierce, protective fire that had carried her through every accusation collapses into something inflamed and fragile. For a moment she just stands there, breathing too fast, eyes shining with the sudden weight of everything she has poured out—and everything it has cost her. She cannot look at any of them any longer. Not at Fujin’s stunned silence, not at Kitana’s wounded expression, not at Mileena’s anger, not even at Liu.

A broken sound escapes her throat. Then she turns and walks—no, storms—away. Her steps are quick and uneven, almost stumbling as the full force of the emotional crash hits. The corridor blurs. She does not stop when someone calls after her. She does not look back. The moment the nearest side passage opens she takes it, putting distance between herself and the allegation as fast as her exhausted body will allow.

By the time she reaches a quieter chamber farther in, the strength that kept her upright is gone. She sinks against the wall, sliding down until she is seated on the cold floor, arms wrapped around her knees. The tears she refused to show in front of them finally break free—silent at first, then shaking. All the fear for Liu, the fury at the repeated burdens, the helplessness of watching him carry so much blame, the knowledge that her words may have only made the fracture wider—it crashes over her at once.

She is distraught. She is broken. And for the first time since she chose to stay at his side through the darkness, Aiko Krackle has nothing left to give.

When he finally spoke, without her noticing the light thru her eyes as tight as noose, his voice is low and controlled, yet there is an unmistakable current of something deeper beneath it—gratitude edged with a fierce, quiet protectiveness of his own. “You did not have to take that onto yourself...”

Aiko felt the warm presence but refused to look up. She let in a shaky inhale and let more tears fall, then before she starts to answer; he continues before she can deflect. “You are exhausted. You have already given more of your strength than you should have. And still you stood there and refused to let them reduce me to the worst moment I have carried.” His eyes hold hers. “No one else has done that. Not since the power became what it is now.”

He lifts one hand and, with deliberate care, brushes the residual crackle of her cardiokinesis from the air near her wrist—not rejecting it, simply acknowledging the cost she paid to wield it in his defense. The contact is brief, but grounding. "I will face their judgment. That is mine to carry. But I will not forget that when they beset me again, you did not step aside. You did not ask me to be smaller. You defended the part of me they fear… and you stayed...”

A faint, rare warmth touches the edge of his expression—gone almost as soon as it appears, yet real.

“Thank you, Aiko.”

He shifts his stance so that he is no longer simply accepting her protection, but standing level with her, shoulder to shoulder, facing the others together. The message is clear without another word: her defense has been heard, accepted, and answered in kind. He will not let her stand alone, after she refused to let him be isolated once more. With little to no emotional foundation, Aiko just dove into Liu's warm, firm and welcoming chest and let her catharsis flow...

Meanwhile, the corridor remains tense. The others have no immediate reply. Liu’s attention, however, stays partially on Aiko—steady, present, and no longer quite as alone inside the weight he carries.

A/N: This was just going on for too long. I HAD TO DO THIS! Aiko deserved to call out the Kombatants' hypocrisy, cowardice and failures the passive sinful quartet wrought! Complete projections on what AwesomeCage hast done in his own series! It serves them right! And there was a slight reference to MK Mythologies: Sub-Zero too as 11 shared the og timeline before the first tournament. Even some references between interactions of Fujin and Noob! It was thanks to Grok that assisted me to find the words; he used AI, I felt I'd use it too. I always wanted Aiko to make these outbursts! And she pretty much functions as the emotional McCoy, like me, the mediator and the mouthpiece!

It's quite ironic and pathetic that someone with mental illness sees the small details unlike Boon, Dominic, even ACP himself and his echo chamber! ESPECIALLY the fact that he's overlooked on using the Jinsei to heal Sindel when Fujin had the chance; for fuck's sakes, he was stunned by the shockwaves and Liu's wrath, thus not really allowing the god to use it till the episode passed as the queen was dying, but then again, he hasn't been TRAINED to use it!! He had 3 goddamn years to do just that, and yet still Fujin's been consumed/hyper focused on "history repeating himself!" As well as sparing enemies never allowing them to die!! The truth is, FUJIN is the enemy of the series, NOT LIU!! I won't EVER let Fujin be passive-aggressive nor incompetent!! I hate to say it, but I hope the petty, cowardly Wind God dies!! HE wields the villain mantle just as his brother, Raiden, in MK9, X, 11 at times, and 2023!! Like with Shinnok and his family, the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree!

I like Fujiin as Raiden's second, but I wished he wasn't often discarded; he played a major role in my Khronology, especially as Kung Lao's mentor and secondary defender, as well as being on my Aerokinetics list! On that note, Lord Liu Kang was a crucial chronokinetic I've mentioned and functions as a chessmaster and dad! Raiden redeemed himself, even stood up against his dark side while he and Liu made an ultimate sacrifice... I won't spoil it, but even I CAN do better than narrow-minded neurotypicals do!