The sun rose over the Northern Mountains, turning the blood-stained snow into a shimmering field of diamonds. Muscle Tower, once a symbol of oppression, now stood silent, its searchlights dark, its guns pointing aimlessly at the sky.
I stood at the base of the tower, the cold wind whipping my tattered wrappings around me. My armor was cracked, and my left shoulder still bore the hole where General White's bullet had lodged itself, though the wound had long since closed up with black scar tissue.
"Mr. Spirit! Mr. Spirit!"
I looked down. It was the Village Chief, accompanied by a young girl with red hair—Suno. Behind them, the entire population of Jingle Village had gathered. They carried baskets of food, warm blankets, and thermoses of hot soup.
"We saw the lights go out," the Chief said, tears freezing on his cheeks. "We saw the monster fall. You... you did it. You freed us."
Suno stepped forward, holding out a flower that had miraculously survived the frost in a greenhouse. "Thank you, mister."
I stared at the flower, then at the girl. In the original timeline, Goku would have smiled, taken the food, and made friends.
I didn't move. My hands, tipped with sharp, obsidian claws, remained at my sides.
"I didn't do it for you," I said, my voice a hollow rasp that made the villagers flinch. "I did it for the territory."
"We know you're a guardian!" the Chief insisted, bowing low. "The Black Snow! You protect the weak! Please, accept our offering!"
They placed the baskets at my feet. They looked at me with such blinding hope that it actually irritated my eyes. They didn't see a monster; they saw a savior. They were projecting their need for a hero onto a wraith.
"Leave the supplies," I said coldly. "And leave the mountain. This Tower is now a restricted zone. If you come back, I cannot guarantee your safety."
"Of course! We won't bother you!" The Chief ushered the people back. "Thank you! Thank you!"
As they retreated down the path, Suno looked back one last time. She didn't look scared. She looked curious.
I waited until they were gone before I kicked the basket of food over.
"Saibot," I whispered.
My shadow detached, looming over the spilled soup.
"Consume."
The shadow fell upon the food, sucking the thermal energy and the nutrients into the void. I didn't eat like a human anymore. I absorbed.
"They think this is over," I said, looking up at the grey spire of the tower. "But the upgrade is just beginning."
The Heart of the Tower
I descended into the basement levels of Muscle Tower. This was where the Red Ribbon Army kept their secrets. Past the dungeons, past the armory, there was the Power Core.
It was a massive cylindrical chamber humming with a low, thrumming vibration. In the center sat a reactor—a prototype bio-thermal generator intended to power Dr. Gero's future creations. It ran on a mixture of refined fuel and, disturbingly, processed life energy extracted from the environment.
"It's crude," I noted, walking around the console. "But it's a battery."
I looked at the schematics left on the desk. Project: Infinite Energy. It was incomplete, barely a theory at this stage, but the foundation was there.
"I need to stabilize my form," I said to the empty room. "My body rejects the Green Energy of Shao Kahn because I lack the vessel to hold it. I am a cup trying to hold an ocean."
I looked at my chest. The grey skin was scarred and tough, but it was still human-shaped.
"I need to change the cup."
I began to work. I didn't sleep. I didn't rest. For three days, I modified the reactor. I rerouted the cooling systems. I stripped the safety dampeners. I connected the intake valves to the Ley Lines of the earth—the natural Ki flows of the planet that gathered in the mountains.
I turned the reactor into a Soulnado Engine.
When it was finished, the room glowed with a sickly, toxic green light. The hum had become a scream.
I stood before the open core. The heat was intense enough to melt lead.
"Saibot," I commanded.
The shadow clone appeared. He looked nervous—an emotion I didn't know he could feel.
"If I die," I said, removing my mask and tattered upper armor, exposing my pale, scarred chest. "You dissipate. So make sure I don't die."
I stepped into the reactor core.
The Metamorphosis
The pain was immediate and absolute.
It wasn't like burning. It was like being unmade. The concentrated bio-energy slammed into me, tearing my cells apart. My grey skin blistered and peeled away, revealing the black muscle beneath.
"AAAAAAAAHHH!"
My scream echoed through the tower.
Too much! The voice in my head screamed. Vessel failing!
"NO!" I roared back, forcing my will upon the energy. "ADAPT!"
I grabbed the energy streams with my bare hands. I didn't push them away; I pulled them in. I forced the green magic into my bloodstream.
I visualized the new form. I didn't want to be the ninja anymore. The ninja was stealthy. The ninja was weak.
I wanted to be the Sorcerer of Chaos. I wanted the power of Havik's creation.
Snap.
My ribs cracked. They didn't break; they expanded. My chest cavity broke open, the skin retracting to reveal the ribcage, but instead of organs, a swirling vortex of green and black energy took residence in my center.
New veins erupted across my torso—glowing, vibrant, neon green arteries that pulsed against the black, charred flesh.
My face felt like it was melting. The skin tightened, receding from my lips, exposing my teeth in a permanent, skeletal rictus grin. My skull reshaped itself, becoming jagged, angular, a helmet of bone and callous.
My mask... the metal faceplate I wore... fused to my skin. It wasn't equipment anymore. It was my face.
The energy peaked. The reactor whined, the glass shielding shattering.
BOOM.
A shockwave of green light blasted out of the tower, blowing the windows out of the top floor and shaking the snow off the trees for miles.
Rebirth
Silence returned to the basement. The reactor was dead, drained completely dry.
I fell out of the core, landing on my hands and knees. Steam rose from my body.
I breathed. It was a wet, rattling sound.
"System check," the voice that came out was different. It was deeper. Distorted. layered. It sounded like three voices speaking at once—me, the Shadow, and the Chaos.
I stood up and walked to a polished sheet of metal on the wall.
I stared at the reflection.
Bi-Han was gone. The classic Ninja look was gone.
Standing there was a monstrosity. My skin was no longer smooth grey; it was the texture of a flayed corpse, charred and blackened in places, pale and rot-like in others. My chest was open, a cage of bone holding a pulsing green heart of pure magic. Bright green veins spider-webbed from the center, glowing through my arms and neck.
My head was encased in a cowl that seemed to be made of my own skin. The mask was a jagged, chaotic design, fused to my jaw. My eyes were no longer simple white slits; they were burning green fires.
I looked like Noob Saibot from Mortal Kombat 1. The Era of Chaos version.
I flexed my fingers. The claws were longer, sharper.
"Power Level..." I sensed my own energy.
It didn't feel like Ki anymore. It felt heavy. Dense.
"850," I estimated.
I had nearly doubled my strength. But more importantly, the battery issue was solved. The green veins on my chest weren't just decoration; they were storage. I was now a living reactor.
"Saibot," I called.
The shadow rose from the floor. But he had changed too. He was larger, more jagged, his edges vibrating with unstable energy.
"We are beautiful," the Shadow said, his voice clear and loud.
I laughed. It was a terrifying, gurgling sound.
"We are perfection."
I raised my hand toward a heavy steel blast door at the far end of the room.
"Test One: Chaos Magic."
I didn't summon a sickle. I gathered the green energy in my hand. It formed a skull—a screaming, ethereal skull made of green fire.
Ghost Ball Variant: Chaos Skulls.
I threw it.
The skull screamed across the room. It didn't just hit the door; it bit it. The energy exploded, not with heat, but with force. The steel door was ripped from its hinges and crumpled into a ball of scrap metal, which was then flung across the room by a blast of telekinetic force.
"Range increased. Impact force increased."
I clenched my fist.
"Test Two: The Shadow Portal."
I swiped my hand through the air. The portal that opened wasn't a clean black circle anymore. It was jagged, edged in green fire, looking like a tear in reality.
I stepped through.
I reappeared instantly on the roof of Muscle Tower.
The sensation was seamless. Before, teleporting drained me. Now, powered by the reactor-heart in my chest, it felt as easy as breathing.
I stood on the roof, the wind howling against my new, monstrous form. The green glow from my chest illuminated the snow around me.
"General White is dead (metaphorically)," I said to the night. "The Red Ribbon Army thinks this base is lost."
I looked South.
"Goku is training with Kami. Vegeta is flying through space."
I summoned a Sickle. It formed instantly from green and black smoke, larger and more curved than before.
"I need to test this form against a real warrior," I decided. "Someone who uses magic. Someone who understands the supernatural."
I thought of the roster of Earth's fighters. Master Roshi? No. Tien? Maybe later.
Then, a name came to mind. A lonely warrior in the desert who used dirty tricks, weapons, and had a history of violence.
Yamcha.
"No," I dismissed it. "Too weak."
Tao Pai Pai.
The world's greatest assassin. He would be hired by the Red Ribbon Army soon to hunt for the Dragon Balls.
"Yes," I smiled behind my fused mask. "Mercenary Tao. He uses a pillar to fly. He kills with a tongue."
He was a Power Level of roughly 110.
"He will be a light snack," I whispered.
But first, I had to consolidate my kingdom. Muscle Tower was now the Netherrealm Embassy. I would fill it with shadows. I would turn the frozen north into a domain where no Saiyan scouter could get a reading without glitching.
I raised my arms, the green veins pulsating violently.
"Welcome to the Era of Chaos."