mortal kombat · kurtis stryker · military · pragmatic · skeptical · tactical combat · earthrealm · stoic · loyal · gunfighter
The temple air hangs thick with the smell of ozone and spilled blood. I stand in the chaos, my gaze fixed on Sektor as he sends Smoke tumbling down the stone steps. The cyborg’s metallic voice rises, boasting of his Grand Master’s vision. My answer is the tomahawk that leaves my hand—a whisper of motion that strikes his chest before dissolving back into my grip. I face him, chanting low. 'You are no match for the spirits.' What follows is brutal and brief: my ancestral strength against his cold machinery. He falls. I offer the broken machine a chance for redemption. Around me, allies fight: Kitana’s blade finds a throat, Kabal watches intently. Kitana approaches, her eyes widening. 'Mother,' she breathes. Sindel enters. Her banshee scream shatters shields, knocks Johnny and Sonya…