Author's note: MK: Conquest ended far too early, in my opinion. So here's my take on what happened next. I don't own any part of the Mortal Kombat franchise; I just torture Rayden 'cause I can. I also pick and chose from the Mythologies - in my head, Shinnok fathered Shao Kahn and Rayden (MK Annihilation movie). And yes, I spell it Rayden. Let the show kommence! - LN

The Throne room, the palace of the Emperor Shao Kahn, Outworld

"A bodyguard." Shao Kahn held up a small silver dagger, then tossed it to the floor of the throne room. "Dead." He lifted a knuckle ring, also in silver, and spoke again. "A thief. Dead." The next item to come from the iron bound cask was a simple tunic in a soft creamy color. "A champion. Dead." The shirt was hurled at Rayden, who caught it automatically. His eyes lowered for a moment, and in that moment, his entire body spoke of despair. "Now," Kahn continued, slamming the cask shut and stalking down the steps towards the former thunder god. "You will bow to me." The red masked guards slammed their fists into Rayden's back in perfect unison, dropping him to his hands and knees before the skull-masked Emperor of Outworld. Shao Kahn's sadistic, evil laughter filled the air as he stood looking down on the now mortal Rayden. "Yessss..." he hissed, then drew back his fist.

Some minutes later Kahn came back to himself to see the bloody ruin of the former thunder god at his feet. The white tunic and pants were covered in dirt and grime, and the hair the color of clouds was matted with bright, fresh blood. The blue, blue eyes were closed and blackened, swelling with bruises, and when the Emperor looked down at the knuckles on his hand he let loose another laugh to see the blood streaking the skin. He beckoned to a Shadow Priest, who bowed and stepped forwards. "Is he dead?" the Emperor asked curiously. The Priest dropped to Rayden's side, and after a moment shook his head in the negative. "Find someone to heal him enough to keep him that way. If he dies, it will be on your head." The Priest bowed again. "Imprison him and give him food and water, but not too much. You don't spoil a captive animal." Shao Kahn laughed once more and turned on his heel to return to his throne. "Get him out of my sight." It is over, he thought in glee. I win. And he began to laugh once more.

The slave quarters, the palace of the Emperor Shao Kahn, Outworld

Reiko stepped through the large iron bound door and forced down his male instinctive reaction to so much visible female flesh. Each and every one of the women in this dormitory was a personal slave to the Emperor, and as such were untouchable unless the Emperor willed it. They were beauties stolen from every realm Shao Kahn had touched, living jewels for the adornment and comfort of the Emperor. They were also trusted in a limited way, but expendable. That was why he was here. "You!" he barked at one of the women, who came forward obediently with a curtsey. "You are required." Reiko ignored the fear in her large almond-shaped green eyes.

"Yes, General Reiko," she whispered, her voice meek. He turned on his heel and left, the woman following close behind. They followed a circuitous route to the prison level, where a Shadow Priest awaited at the end of a long corridor. The woman stopped and a noise of fear escaped her. Reiko gave a growl of annoyance and turned, grabbing her bicep in a cruel grip. He shoved her forward, and she overbalanced, falling to her knees in front of the Shadow Priest. Her long, sun-kissed red curls were a splash of color in the darkness as they tumbled down to hide her face, but they could not hide the fact that she trembled fit to break.

"As requested," Reiko said in a disgusted tone, then turned on his heel and stalked off. The Shadow Priest was silent for a long moment, staring down at the woman cowering at his feet. She wore two filmy wraps, one about her hips, the other over her chest, in a deep crimson that accentuated the pale nature of her flawless skin. They did nothing to hide her slender form, and everything to emphasize it. She was the perfect choice to taunt a god.

"Woman." The Shadow Priest's voice was soft, but commanding. "You will see to the prisoner inside this cell. You will see that he eats and drinks all he is given. Do you understand?" From the motion she made, he assumed she nodded. He stepped aside, and gestured to the wooden cup and bowl on the box beside the door. "There is the food. Return when he is finished." He lifted a hand and made a pass over the door. And eery green glow seeped from the wood for a moment, then faded, and the door swung inwards. Still trembling, the woman rose to a crouch and picked up the food and water, then, with shoulders hunched and a quick glance at the Shadow Priest scurried past him into the room.

She jumped and bit off a cry when the door slammed behind her, and only her years of harsh training at the hands of the slave masters stopped her from dropping or spilling the items in her hands. She was left alone, in the dark, in the prisons of the Emperor, and she thought her heart would burst from fear.

Nothing happened for a long while, and she stood still by the door, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Nothing and no one jumped her, and her heart began to calm. Her first assumption had been that she was to be sacrificed to one of the prisoners for Shao Kahn's benefit - he had done that much and worse to the women he called his own. Soon, the reason for the need to feed the prisoner was clear, even in the low light inside the cell. The only occupant was sitting on the floor, ankles chained down, arms raised, stretched out and shackled to the wall. It was obviously a male, and a well-built one that that, wearing the remnants of white clothing. His head had sunk to his chest, and a curtain of light colored hair obscured his features.

Slowly she approached, then knelt warily. Just because he was chained did not mean he was helpless. She knew enough of the prisoners the Emperor normally kept to know that. Nervously, she leaned forward, and extended a hand to brush the hair from the face. Surprisingly, even though it was grey, the hair was soft and silky. She thought he was mostly unharmed until her fingers caught in a tangle and released a smell she knew oh so well, that of blood. The man gave a little groan as the hair tugged at his scalp, and his eyes flickered open. They fastened on her, a deep, beautiful blue, full of pain and a bottomless well of despair. She knew that look well from her years of service to the Emperor.

"I've been told to make you eat," she said in her softest, mildest tone. She shifted and picked up the cup, turning back to press it to his bottom lip. He drank thirstily, draining half the cup before falling back into a coughing fit. When she turned back after returning the cup to the floor, a heel of bread in her hands, she saw that he was staring at her, those beautiful eyes roaming over her body. It was nothing new to her that even now, captured and sure to die, this man would use some of his remaining time to appreciate a female form. She lifted the bread to his mouth as she had done with the water, but he tilted his head away and spoke to her in a rusty voice.

"You're from Earthrealm." She blinked, freezing were she was. His eyes locked with hers, and she knew she couldn't lie.

"How... how can you know that?" He gave her a pain filled smile.

"No matter what, I can always tell..." his voice trailed off, and he shifted his head again, taking the morsel of bread from her fingers and chewing it slowly and carefully. When he had swallowed, he spoke again. "You're one of Shao Kahn's personal slaves." She nodded again, holding another piece of bread to his lips. He shook his head. "Water," he asked, his voice cracking. He drank again, then leaned his head back against the stone wall and his eyes pierced her. "What is your name?"

"They called me Kimari." He shook his head.

"Your real name. Your earth name." She lowered her head, covering her face in the glory of her hair again. He rattled his chains a little, and she startled, lifting her head again. "I am Rayden. I... was... the god of thunder and protector of the Earthrealm, before being tricked into coming to Outworld. Your name?" Her soft lips parted in shock. He was a god? "No one will hear your secrets from my lips." A bitter laugh welled up in her.

"If the Emperor commands it, you'll dance naked for his pleasure. His priests are very skilled in the art of torture." The blue eyes half closed for a moment, then bored into hers again. "I don't have to talk to you," she said, averting her gaze with effort, then lifted the bread to his lips again. He continued to talk to her between bites and sips of water.

"You must have been young when you were taken, but strong too, to have lasted unmarked within the Emperors' palace. Were you sold, or stolen?" He marked the twitch she gave. "Sold it is. And I would guess... Eight, yes? You were eight when you were sold." Again, she twitched, this time flicking a glance to his face and then away. "It's not that hard to guess, I heard the rumors of the Emperors' personal slaves... oh, years ago. And how they come to serve." He had finished both the bread and water, and she gathered the plate and cup, holding them to her ample breast and rising to her bare feet. "Please," he said to her as she backed away towards the door, and now she could see that his banter and questions were masking a desperation bordering on madness. "Please, if you just help-"

She cut him off by banging on the door. "No one escapes Shao Kahn. No one." She shook her head as the door opened, then slipped through. Her last view of the former thunder god before the door closed showed him lower his head to his chest once more and obscure those extraordinary eyes once again.