The milky white eyes of the man known as Scorpion slowly opened as he awoke. He had been in the presence of the Elder Gods a moment ago, but was now in an altogether different place, alone.

In his vengeful pursuit of the sorcerer, Quan Chi, Scorpion had been thrown into Shang Tsung's soulnado by a pair of oni the other sorcerer had employed. The purity of the heavens would have torn Scorpion's hellspawn body apart, had he not found a way out of the rift and into the Void, the domain of the Elder Gods. There, he had been tasked with becoming their champion and slaying the newly-resurrected Dragon King, Onaga. In return, the Elder Gods promised to restore Scorpion's loved ones to the realms of the living.

He had failed to achieve this goal himself, but he had managed to play a part in the Dragon King's second defeat. He had confronted Onaga and bested his guards, dealing enough damage to his target to force him into retreat via portal. Scorpion managed to make it to Onaga's palace, where a number of other warriors had been gathered by a man named Shujinko.

Scorpion had run into this warrior during his years of tormenting Quan Chi in the Netherrealm. He had helped the spectre to track his prey then, so Scorpion opted to allow him a chance to speak. While Scorpion and numerous others expected Shujinko to lead the group into battle with Onaga, he instead used his ability to copy the abilities of others, replicationg the powers and skills of Scorpion and the rest. With these new powers, he pushed through Onaga's guards, leaving the others to distract his forces while he bested his foe in single kombat.

With Onaga's supposed death, Scorpion returned to the Void, where the Elder Gods awaited. Onaga's soul was now bound in the Netherrealm by Nightwolf, they claimed, though the laws of the universe dictated that Onaga, having now died twice, would be unable to return to life again without the Elder Gods' intervention. Scorpion assumed that they expected Nightwolf's spell to keep Onaga bound in the event Shinnok regained power or another Elder God went rogue.

Regardless of his failure, Scorpion had come close to ending Onaga himself and subsequently played a part in his eventual defeat. As such, the Elder Gods declared that they would uphold their end of their deal and resurrect the Shirai Ryu, which had been wiped out over a decade prior by Quan Chi, after Scorpion had lost the Map of the Elements, and his life, to Bi-Han. While he had been denied his vengeance by Raiden's obliteration of Quan Chi in Shang Tsung's Palace, Scorpion could at least rest easy knowing that his family and clan would be restored to the realms of the living.

He looked around his new surroundings and was moved by what he saw. He was now sitting in the Shirai Ryu Fire Gardens (so named for their year-round red and orange leaved trees. The place had been destroyed in the Brotherhood raid on the Shirai Ryu all those years ago, left in a state more appropriate for its name. Even with the low light of the night sky, the sight might well have brought him to tears, were it possible for a spectre to shed them.

If the Elder Gods had restored the Fire Gardens and brought Scorpion here, then they must surely have also kept true to their word and revived the Shirai Ryu. Scorpion ran deeper into the Gardens, down the path he remembered so perfectly, towards the village. He stopped at the stone bridge that led across the canyon to the village that had once housed the families of the Shirai Ryu, including the Hasashis. The village had also been restored. From where he stood, he could see the odd person standing around by the houses. Although tempted to teleport right over, Hanzō didn't want to startle his wife and son, who may not yet know of his transformation into a spectre. As such, he set off running once more, anticipation building in the pit of his stomach in a way he had not felt in many, many years.

As he grew closer, some of the yellow-garbed ninja seemed to notice him. They bowed respectfully, as if they knew who he was on sight. While his style of attire had changed little since his death, it was hardly a unique style, so this struck Scorpion as odd. On the other hand, they had been revived by the Elder Gods, so they had likely just been filled in on his status. He worried for a moment that he might find himself rejected by his family for the monster he had become, but that mattered little, so long as they were given back the life that had been stolen from them.

As he approached, though, Scorpion noticed something unsettling about the ninja standing guard by the bridge. At first, he thought it might be a trick of the low light, but the closer he drew, the clearer it became: their skin was an ashen grey. His strides grew shorter with each step, eventually coming to a dead stop. His white eyes widened as he stared into their yellow ones. A similar colour pulsed beneath their skin, shining through long craggy cracks in the grey.

He recognised this kind of undead immediately: revenants. Unlike a spectre or a wraith, which both retained their independence, unless additionally bound by a necromancer, a revenant was a simple undead thrall. They retained their intelligence, unlike a zombie, but were bound to the will of their creator. Additionally, while spectres were granted power to achieve their goal, and wraiths could have their abilities entirely rewritten, a revenant's abilities were untouched.

Suddenly fearing the worst, Scorpion disregarded his previous concern and teleported directly into his old home. He had to know as soon as possible.

The house was exactly as he remembered it being the day he departed on his final mission for the Shirai Ryu those twelve long years ago. There were no signs of the horrific murders that had very likely taken place within this very building. In fact, if not for the revenants, Scorpion might almost have suspected the Elder Gods had sent him back through time to earn his clan's survival. But even without seeing those outside, what awaited him in the living area of his home would have revealed the horrid truth to him.

Standing in the room's centre, as still as statues and with skin as grey as the same, were Harumi and Satoshi, Hanzō Hasashi's wife and son. Skin aside, they looked unchanged from the day he had left for his mission, and from the false vision Quan Chi had once shown of Kuai Liang murdering them. Their clothes were the same kimono and Shirai Ryu training gear, respectively, and Satoshi hadn't aged a day. They didn't react to his presence, despite the harshness of his footfalls as he'd rushed between rooms to find them, nor the volume of his voice as he'd called out their names.

He approached them slowly, a part of him still dreading that he might startle them and scare them away. An even smaller part hoped he would, if only to prove they were still in there. Instead, they remained motionless until he stepped around them, the pale moonlight shining through the nearby window to shine an ethereal spotlight on them, as if this were all a cruel joke being played on him by the universe itself.

"Harumi? Satoshi?" he said, his voice shaken and infirm for possibly the first time in his decade-long undead existence.

Like the guards outside, life only seemed to spark in the two once they became fully aware of his presence. Their gazes, initially blank and unseeing, like one might expect from a person in a trance, shifted to meet the spectre's own gaze. Their faces lit up upon seeing their beloved husband/father. It might have moved Hanzō, were he not sickened by their deathly complexions and glowing yellow eyes.

"Welcome back, Hanzō-sama," his wife greeted as she and their son lowered themselves to their knees and bowed until their foreheads touched the floor. "We have been waiting for your return, haven't we, Satoshi?"

"Yes, Mother," the boy said into the tatami floor.

Hanzō had longed to hear the voices of his wife and son again for so long, but the way they bowed so deeply and the formal tone with which they now spoke to him, even without the unnerving changes in a revenant's voice, was unsettlingly distant. While Scorpion had been of a high rank within the Shirai Ryu, and thus the community also, his family had always treated him as just that: family. To them, he was not Scorpion of the Shirai Ryu, but simply Hanzō Hasashi. Harumi loved him and Satoshi revered him, but despite her words of choice, Harumi now addressed him as if to them, he was only Scorpion, while their son had yet to speak of his own volition. Did they not long to embrace him as he did them?

"This isn't right. Both of you, stand up."

"As you wish, Hanzō-sama," Harumi replied as she rose to her feet and helped her son to his.

"Why do you keep calling me that?" he demanded, dreading the answer.

Harumi tilted her head, as if the answer should be obvious. "Because you are the Grandmaster of the Shirai Ryu, Hanzō-sama. But as your wife, you are Hanzō-sama to me, not Scorpion-sama."

The claim that he was the Grandmaster was absurd, but that blatant falsehood meant nothing, compared to the soulless explanation of Harumi's new way of referring to him. It felt like it came from a logical machine: he was Scorpion to the clan, who called him 'Scorpion-sama'; but his family would use his name, not his title, and thus 'Hanzō-sama' was the correct terminology. Her mannerisms brought to mind glimpses Scorpion had witnessed of Quan Chi's experiments on Mileena, or Onaga's hold over the resurrected Earthrealmers.

"What happened to you?" he asked before he could stop himself. He knew the answer, and that hearing it could only break his heart further.

"We were revived by the Elder Gods, as per your request," she explained. "Now, we are all yours to do with as you please. We are your army and we live to serve." She again bowed, though only at the hip. Satoshi mimicked his mother, but continued to say nothing, as if unable to unless addressed by his mother or father.

"No," Hanzō said, unable to bring his voice above a mere whisper.

"Hanzō-sama?" the woman asked, but the concern with which she spoke felt hollow, simulated.

"NO!" he screamed as he bolted for the door, rushing out into the street where, by now, word must have spread of his return, as the street was now packed with grey-skinned warriors and civilians alike, all present to welcome him back with deep bows into the stone and mud beneath them.

He fled deeper into the village, but everywhere he went, he was confronted by greetings of "Hanzō-sama" or "Scorpion-sama". He ran and ran, his spectral abilities long since forgotten as the nightmare he had found himself in erased his hellspawn nature from his mind, leaving only the grief-stricken Hanzō Hasashi to flee from those he had once called friends, comrades and family.

At the other side of the village lay a graveyard atop a hill. There were two graveyards in the village: one downhill for the peasants, and one uphill for the Shirai Ryu, as well as their families. He hadn't intended to come here, but when he finally came to his senses and realised where he was, the peaceful quiet calmed him somewhat. It may have simply been that he was now too far away for the undead greetings to reach him. Or perhaps, he found comfort in the knowledge that the graves of those buried here had not been disturbed, suggesting that they had not been revived along with those massacred by the Brotherhood.

For some reason, he felt compelled to visit the grave of his own father, if only to be sure he had not returned as well. He was relieved to find that his father's grave remained unmolested by the Elder Gods and their sick game. He was about to pay his respects to the man in the hope of getting his mind off of the twisted fate of the villagers for a little while, but he spotted something out of the corner of his eye and went to investigate.

At the edge of the hill, overlooking a steep incline, was the shrine dedicated to the Shirai Ryu's founder, Takeda Kasamasa. A fresh grave had been set up nearby, but seemed unused. The grave was open to the elements and was flooded with water. If the village had been effectively restored to the state it was in before the massacre, this grave may well have been dug between his departure and the massacre.

This was a curious sight, as the area around the shrine was reserved for only the most revered of Shirai Ryu members. Stepping closer to observe, Scorpion's eyes widened as he read the engraving on the headstone:

橋 半蔵
全蠍人
1958年1月17日 - 1990年10月1日
夫, お父さん, 白井流

Hanzō Hasashi
The Scorpion
17th January 1958 - 1st October 1990
Husband, Father, Shirai Ryu

Below that was engraved the image of a scorpion. Its pincers were styled after Hanzō's rope spear. And wrapped around a protrusion in the top of the headstone was a necklace Hanzō had made for his wife four years prior to his death, which she had since rarely been seen without. It was a string necklace threaded through seven crystalline beads of three sizes. The largest sat in the middle, one of the smallest at either side, followed by a medium-sized bead, and another of the smaller size at the either end. While the beads held no particular meaning, Harumi had treasured it as something her husband had made specifically for her. Evidently, she had left it here at her husband's grave as a symbol of their love.

They all - Harumi, Satoshi and the rest - had loved him deeply enough that they had decided that he deserved to be buried beside their clan's legendary founder, an honour allowed to only a select few. And now, the people behind that decision, while no longer dead, were not truly restored to life either. They were automatons, dedicated to him because the Elder Gods had programmed them to do so; not because they had themselves decided he was so worthy.

Hanzō's face began to burn. It was rare that he felt his own hellfire as an entity separate from himself, but this swirling mix of all kinds of emotions swelling up inside him had become a raging inferno that was now too powerful to keep locked inside. He let out a cry of anguish that echoed throughout the valley, the likes of which had not been heard since he had been shown Quan Chi's false visions. The mask that hid his skeletal features burned away, exposing the blazing skull beneath.

The embers of his rage drifted into the nearby trees and grass, setting fire to much of the cemetery. Then, as if to taunt him further, a sudden downpour began over the village, dousing the flames and making safe the path for Harumi to approach from the entrance to the graveyard. By now, Hanzō was on his knees, despondent. She stepped up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder, as any good wife would.

"What is wrong, Hanzō-sama?"

"This is all wrong, Harumi." He looked up at her and, despite her actions and words, he still felt no real affection from his wife. She paid no mind to the downpour drenching her clothes and hair, but this seemed more from obliviousness than focus on her husband.

"If you say so, Hanzō-sama."

"You didn't even ask why it's wrong," he mumbled as his gaze shifted back to his own grave.

"If you say it is wrong, then is is so, Hanzō-sama," the facsimile of his wife replied, as if the why only mattered when he was asking of it.

"I... I have to put things right."

"If that is your wish, Hanzō-sama. I trust you to do what is right." Despite feeling the warmth of her body as her hand touched his shoulder, the warmth of her heart was nowhere to be found. There was no love or trust in her words; only a logical understanding of the act of comforting, a knowledge of her former relationship with Hanzō and what would once have brightened his mood. While she bore her face, her voice and likely even her soul, Harumi Hasashi's heart was long gone. She was now akin to a machine masquerading in Harumi's name. The mental comparison to the Lin Kuei's inhumane transformations of Cyrax and Smoke made Hanzō shudder.

Looking down from the top of the hill, Hanzō could see other villagers staring up at him, as if concerned by his outburst, but more likely simply awaiting their first commands. This disrespect to the memory of those whose lives Quan Chi had taken could not go unpunished. Scorpion made up his mind.

Even through the rain, Scorpion's hellfire burned bright, fuelled by the vengeance that had sparked anew. It seemed that, no matter how he may try to move past his desire of retribution, the universe itself would conspire to break him down again and again to keep him locked into his misery. Every chance for redemption or hope for reprieve was stomped underfoot by those who created and ruled over reality: the Elder Gods.

If those soulless monsters wanted to see the legendary wrath of the Scorpion, then he would gladly oblige. He would command this loyal army they had foolishly given him, and lead them into battle against all who stood in service to the Elder Gods, and he would slowly, agonisingly, dispatch each and every one of those who sat on their thrones and derived pleasure from the suffering of mortals. Even if an Elder God could not die, they would not escape his vengeance. After all, there are fates far worse than death; Hanzō Hasashi had lived them, and Scorpion would inflict them.


It's weird how Scorpion never stated that his family had become undead with the clan in Armageddon, so either they didn't or they did and he just didn't care for some reason. Food for thought.