Disclaimer: I don't own the Mortal Kombat franchise or any of the characters herein. The cover image is from Mortal Kombat 9.

The unnatural heat is the first thing I feel as I regain my senses. The rock beneath me is hot and rough; the stench of burning flesh dominates all other smells. It reminds me of the worst day of my life: the day that I found my family and clan dead; brutally slaughtered by the Lin Kuei dogs. Even my beloved, Kana, and our son, Jubei, had not been spared.

I register the cries and moans of many people as I rise to my feet, discarding what remains of my yellow mask. I am standing on a large island; one of many in a seemingly endless sea of lava. Burning bodies lie in piles on top of each other, but they are not still. At once, I realise two things: Hell is real, and I am one of the damned. My fate is not a great concern; what other eternal reward would an assassin reap?

"Hanzo!" someone calls behind me. It is her ... her voice has haunted my dreams since her murder. Kana.

I turn, expecting to see her. Sure enough, she looks as resplendent as she was in life. My wife's long hair and blue kimono billow in the harsh winds of the Netherrealm. In her arms is our sleeping infant son ... the son who would never grow up; the son who would never say his first words. Jubei.

I run blindly towards them. I am delighted that I can see them at last, even though their untainted souls surely do not belong here! My shinobi instincts scream to me that they are unreal at best and a trap at worst; for once, I ignore them. I had relied on my killer's supposed sense of honour when I begged for mercy, for I lived only to avenge my clan ... my family.

I reach out to Kana's form, hoping desperately that my senses do not lie to me ...

"It is an illusion, Scorpion."

My hand flies to my belt, only to find it devoid of kunai. Unarmed, but ready to defend my family at all costs, I face the speaker, only to discover that he is none other than my very last client.

Quan Chi's expression is sombre. The heat of this realm does not seem to bother him, despite his thick armour. A familiar face he may be, but Earthrealm's tales are seldom kind to sorcerers.

"You lie."

"Not in this instance." His firm voice carries a sympathetic tone. Nonetheless, his statement does not please me. I reach out to touch my wife's arm, only to feel thin air where I should have felt her silk kimono.

She is still smiling at me, but her form has now turned translucent. I can see my fingertips passing through the sleeves of her robe. The phantom Jubei has woken up and is looking at me with eager eyes, recognising his father.

"No," I whisper. A strong gust of wind blows the illusions into nonexistence, leaving nothing but flecks of smouldering embers in their wake. The flecks do not hurt me, but I wish the phantoms would stay for a little while longer. If their true souls are indeed in a better place, I can never see or hear them again. I know I should feel happy for them, but I cannot quash my own selfishness.

Quan Chi has now come closer to me. "What you saw now is a side effect of this realm on the newly dead," he says.

"It is unwise for us to linger here in Oni territory, lest we end up like these people." He indicates the impaled souls, who are now desperate for escape that they will not get. "Let us leave this place."

I agree to his suggestion, for I have nothing to lose. I lived only to avenge my family, but fate has denied me even that small comfort. The sorcerer places a hand on my shoulder and teleports us from our current location.

The room Quan Chi has transported us to is markedly different from the fiery location we have just left. It is nowhere near as hot as the lava lake. The perimeter of the circular room has many candle-lit shrines with scrolls in them.

The sorcerer walks towards a grilled window. He looks out of it for a moment and turns back to me. His face is half-shrouded in shadow, amplifying the sinister appearance of his spiked armour.

"Your killer ... What did he look like?" he asks.

I don't need Quan Chi to identify him for me; my killer wields the power of ice and wears the sigil of the Lin Kuei.

"Sub-Zero," is all I say. Quan Chi sighs, his eyes meeting mine.

"There is no easy way to say this," he begins, after a short pause. "Sub-Zero was the one who murdered your wife and son."

"What?" my voice comes out as a yell. I had begged for mercy from Kana and Jubei's killer? A man who kills innocents? How does Quan Chi know so much?

"How do you know so much, sorcerer?" I demand, reaching out to seize him.

"Your anger is indeed justified, but not toward me," he warns, losing his composure for a moment as he fends off my hand. "I have kept watch on the Lin Kuei for long, hard though it is," he continues. "Their best assassins are always their most cruel."

"He must die by my hand!" I should have taken Sub-Zero out even as he killed me!

"And so it shall be, but do not be so hasty, Scorpion!" he says authoritatively. "The Netherrealm does not release dead souls so easily ... But there is a way." He pauses, as if seeking my consent.

"Earthrealm's legends call you a Necromancer," I say. "Surely, if there is a way, you would know of it? My only purpose now is to kill Sub-Zero!"

For the first time since I have seen him in Hell, a slight smile is on his face. "The legends do have some truth to them," he says lightly. "There is a way you can be resurrected. I fear it is not easy, but you could perhaps accomplish it ..." he trails off.

"Tell me." Even if he has been cooperative so far, he is being far too mysterious. Nonetheless, if there is a way out of Hell for a dead man, Quan Chi seems to have the means to do it.

"The Netherrealm is home to many demonic entities," the sorcerer says, "but none are more feared than spectres. One such spectre has survived for long, undefeated by anyone in this realm."

"You want me to kill him," I assume. "But what will I gain from this?"

Quan Chi's smile grows wider. "Your freedom from this forsaken realm, and thus your revenge against Sub-Zero! If you defeat and kill the spectre, his powers and abilities will become yours."

I will never forget the name Sub-Zero as long as I exist. It does not matter if I must follow another being's orders again; disposing of his enemies as I reach my own sworn foe. Sub-Zero must die for killing Kana and Jubei, pleading for his own life like I had begged for mine.

"You must focus, Scorpion," Quan Chi says, bringing me back to the present. "Do you accept your mission?"

"Yes." I nod in confirmation.

"Very well, then." The sorcerer raises his hands in my direction. His palms begin to glow an eerie green. The magical energy travels towards me, surrounding and enveloping my body for a few brief moments. The cuts on my palms heal instantly, even as the lingering exhaustion I have faced ever since my soul was cast here vanishes. My clothes are as good as new and my supply of kunai, rope dart and katana have been restored; but strangely, I remain unmasked.

"You have no need to hide your identity from this particular target," Quan Chi speaks, answering my unasked question as he lowers his arms.

"What do you mean?" What tricks do you have up your sleeve, sorcerer?

He smirks again. "You will see soon enough." Before I can retaliate, or even reply, Quan Chi snaps his fingers. He and the room abruptly vanish from my sight.

When my vision returns, I see that I have been sent to the Netherrealm's hotter regions again. My current location does not differ much from the place I first regained consciousness in. However, the ground I can stand on is only a long, thin strip of igneous rock, surrounded by molten lava and burning bodies. A few revolting, disembodied hands are visible above the ground.

"Turn back, Hasashi Hanzo." A disembodied voice speaks. It sounds human, not threatening but firm. "This is not your fight."

"Show yourself." Is he the spectre? How does he know my name and purpose?

On the other end of the rocky strip, a column of hellfire erupts and ebbs quickly as I clutch my rope dart, leaving behind what looks like a man dressed in the traditional garb of the Shirai Ryu. A fellow clansman? Just what is Quan Chi up to?

His blank white eyes crinkle as he sniffs the air, unmindful of his yellow mask. "You have the stench of sorcery around you," he growls, his voice taking on a modicum of hostility.

"Who are you?" I demand, ignoring his comment.

"I expected better from you, Hasashi." The other man's bare right palm splits open, and a rattling noise fills the thick air around us as a demonic, snake-like creature emerges slowly from his palm. "I have been observing you for many years now. You know me as Takeda."

In my living years, I knew of only one Takeda: the long-dead, legendary founder of our clan. Apparently, he is now a wraith with an unknown purpose; a target marked for extermination by Quan Chi. If destroying the undead former Grandmaster is indeed my only way to kill the Lin Kuei filth known as Sub-Zero, then I have no reason to question Quan Chi's motives.

Before I can make an offensive move, the hellish serpent flies towards me and buries its fangs in my weapon-wielding arm. My grip on the rope dart slackens, yet I still manage to retain it in my grasp.

"GET OVER HERE!" Takeda roars, as the creature drags me towards him. The rocks at my feet and the disembodied hands on the ground barely hurt me as I half-skid, half-hurtle towards him. He tries to uppercut me, but I block it with my free hand and throw a successful snap-kick at him, attempting to knock him into in the lava.

Takeda falls to the ground instead as the creature follows his trajectory. I howl in pain as the creature rips a large chunk of my flesh away, clutching my bleeding forearm in desperation. Takeda vanishes in a fiery burst before his body settles among the rocks. As if these events are not bewildering enough, my forearm begins to heal unprompted. All that remains of my wound is the black blood coating my other palm and the newly-formed skin. I readjust my grip on the rope dart as the air grows heavier around me.

I feel the heat coalescing behind me. Instinctively, I throw my rope dart out and catch the freshly materialised wraith in the chest.

"GET OVER HERE!" I yell, almost mockingly. It is his turn to hurtle towards me as I pull him with all my strength. I attempt to uppercut Takeda into the lava, but he avoids the uppercut, punches my face hard and throws me towards it instead.

In desperation, I cast the rope dart at one of the pillars of burning bodies to stay away from the lava. My feet miraculously strike another pile of cadavers, which I use to steer myself onto less treacherous terrain while letting go of the nearly frayed rope. I awkwardly wield a katana with one hand as I throw a missed kunai at the now unmasked wraith. My acrobatic manoeuvre has not taken me from danger yet, for I am on the same rock where he still lurks. Instead of a human head, he has a soulless, flaming skull.

Just as I am beginning to wonder why he hasn't attacked me again, something grips my ankles. I risked a quick glance to see that the disembodied hands are holding me in place. It is a nearly fatal mistake.

I duck out of the way of his incoming flaming breath as I throw my katana at him as if wielding a heavy javelin. Unlike the throwing knife, this weapon connects, glowing an eerie green – the same shade as Quan Chi's magic – as it impales him through his stomach, stopping well before the hilt.

At once, the flames around the wraith fade away as if they were a mere candle in a strong gust of wind. The pressure around my ankles vanishes, but I barely notice, for I run towards him swiftly and hold the luminescent sword in both hands, raising it to saw him in half.

The undead flesh and skull cleave apart with no resistance. The demonic shell falls to the ground and the fallen warrior's black blood flows freely, hissing and bubbling as it comes into contact with the surrounding lava. My own exhaustion gets the better of me as I fall to my knees, thus lodging the bloody but still iridescent katana firmly into the igneous rock. For the first time since my death, I consciously drew breaths in copious amounts.

Almost immediately, the Netherrealm's everlasting fires consume the wraith's corpse. As if they are sentient, the fires leap towards me. I can do nothing to resist as a flood of memories – foreign ones - relentlessly pound upon my mind.

The newly freed spectre known as Scorpion stood in one of the many forests surrounding the city of Zhu Zin, awaiting his contact as she drew ever nearer. He humoured her as she attempted to be stealthy and covered his eyes from behind. From Takeda's memories, this was quite uncharacteristic of Peron, but nonetheless, he went along with her charade as she murmured, "Guess who?"and drew her hands away.

Scorpion was rather curious as to how she would react to Takeda's ... change ... and turned to face the skimpily-dressed blonde, who would hopefully be a major asset to him.

One look at his eyes killed the slight smile lingering on her face, as she demanded, "Who are you and what have you done with Takeda?" She was trying to hide her fear, but little did Peron know that she had nothing to fear from Scorpion; not yet.

"I do not wish to harm you," Scorpion said, even as she drew her knife. Takeda's echoing voice seemed to disconcert her as well as intrigue her. Just as he had hoped it would. Peron lowered her weapon ever so slightly as she subtly tilted her head to one side.

"You're a demon," she declared, meeting his eyes and holding his gaze. "But Takeda's soul isn't quite gone." It was a misconception on Peron's part, which he would let slide for now.

"You're right," the wraith agreed verbally, extending his right palm to her. "I am called Scorpion."

"Scorpion," she repeated, eyeing his hand warily.

"Takeda is not welcome in Zhu Zin anymore," he said, withdrawing his hand. "And you have never felt content in Zhu Zin. It is no place for lone assassins."

"You killed Baron Reyland." She paused. "Takeda wouldn't have done that, he didn't quite like it when I said he and I should leave Zhu Zin."

"But why would a demon hold a grudge against a rich old man who didn't care about anything mystical?" It was a rhetorical question. "You were there for the Baron's brat and that monk, of course. You don't seem like a henchman to me."

If Peron were any other woman, he would not have tolerated her inquisitiveness. Perhaps her words about Takeda were right after a fashion, which was something he would have to examine more closely.

"It was a debt to be repaid to the sorcerer who freed me from Outworld; nothing more, nothing less. Kung Lao is not my concern anymore."

"I believe you, Scorpion," she said, now extending her own hand towards him.

In time, Scorpion would grow to care for Peron when she became his second-in-command; the lieutenant of his small but efficient group of Earthrealm assassins. This bond was tested to its limits when the renegade Lin Kuei warrior Sub-Zero killed her and defeated the enraged Scorpion, much to the wraith's chagrin. Over the course of his mortal lifespan, the Cryomancer would successfully evade both the Lin Kuei and Scorpion's dwindling forces, falling only to the ravage of time. Sub-Zero's redemption and participation in the Mortal Kombat tournament that ultimately claimed the soul of the Great Kung Lao ensured his place in the Heavens, denying Scorpion the right to torment his foe's soul in the Netherrealm.

As was far too common between mortals and immortals, Scorpion became detached from his fighting force eventually, finding no drive to lead the group - that would eventually call itself the Shirai Ryu, under the leadership of a Lin Kuei defector coincidentally bearing the name of Takeda - anymore after Sub-Zero's death. Though Scorpion was born in the Netherrealm, and it was still his home, contentment would elude him, for even Peron was nowhere to be found within its depths. He truly felt as if the gods were mocking him.

Nearly five hundred years later, he no longer doubted the intentions of the gods. Not when a mere boy named Hanzo Hasashi obtained the code name of Scorpion, and eventually died at the hands of the Cryomancer Bi-Han, also known as Sub-Zero ...

Truly, the wraith and I have a lot in common. I must thank Quan Chi for this gift.

The flames within and outside my undead body do not hurt me. I experimentally focus on summoning the fires of Hell, and they gather in my palm as if they have been in my command all along. Bi-Han will not get away as the Sub-Zero who lived many centuries ago had, and I – Scorpion – will succeed where my predecessor had failed. The Cryomancer bastard will pay with his life for killing Kana, Jubei and the Shirai Ryu.

A/N: I'd like to thank Poe's Daughter for proof-reading this fic and improving it with all her invaluable suggestions.