The Netherrealm had no sun to mark the days, but I could feel the passage of time in the dwindling level of the Soul Mud ocean.
I stood on an island of jagged obsidian, naked from the waist up, my new body gleaming in the dim twilight. The graft was complete. The Namekian biomass I had stripped from King Piccolo had fully integrated with my wraith physiology. I was no longer a scavenged corpse held together by magic; I was a biological weapon.
My skin was a dark, slate-grey, covered in natural armor plates that resembled the chitin of an insect or the gi of a warrior, fused directly to my flesh. My chest still bore the green, glowing veins of the Chaos Reactor, but they were thicker now, pulsing with a stable, rhythmic beat.
"Lesson One: Sorcery," I whispered.
I raised my hand. The ocean below churned.
I wasn't just Noob Saibot anymore. I had the memories of the entire MK roster in my head, and now, I had the biology to support their wildest feats.
Quan Chi. The Necromancer.
"Skull Storm."
I didn't throw one skull. I threw a hundred.
Green, screaming skulls erupted from my back, flying in a swarm pattern. They dive-bombed the ocean, exploding with enough force to vaporize a battleship.
"Good," I noted. "But too chaotic. I need focus."
Shang Tsung. The Soul Stealer.
I pointed at a drifting wraith—a lesser spirit native to this dimension.
"Your soul is mine."
I clenched my fist. The spirit was ripped apart, its essence flowing into me as a stream of green fire. It wasn't just food; it was data. I absorbed its memories of the void, its knowledge of the terrain.
Shao Kahn. The Emperor.
I summoned the Wrath Hammer. But this time, I didn't just hold it. I coated it in Black Ice (Sub-Zero) and swung it with Telekinetic force (Ermac).
BOOM.
The hammer struck the ground, creating a shockwave that split the island in half.
"Integration complete," I rasped. "I can stack the styles."
I looked at the ocean. It was noticeably lower. The "shoreline" of the void had receded by miles. I was drinking the dimension.
But raw power wasn't enough. I needed technique. I needed to be unhittable.
"Saibot," I called.
My shadow detached. He was monstrous now—twelve feet tall, covered in spikes, his eyes burning with purple malice.
"The Mirror Match."
Saibot roared and charged.
We fought for what felt like months. We didn't hold back. I tore his arms off; he regenerated. He stabbed me through the chest; I healed in seconds. We were two immortals locked in a room, sharpening each other like knives on a whetstone.
I practiced Smoke's Vapor Form. I learned to phase out not just my body, but my presence, making myself undetectable to Ki sense.
I practiced Liu Kang's Dragon Fire. By compressing the Chaos Energy into the shape of a dragon, I created a self-guided missile that could bite through Ki shields.
I practiced Raiden's Teleport. Not the shadow-slide, but the lightning-instant transmission. It cracked the air with thunder every time I moved.
Two Years Passed.
The ocean was gone.
I stood at the bottom of the Netherrealm basin. The ground was dry, cracked mud. The air was thin and stale.
I had eaten it all. Every drop of necrotic energy. Every stray soul.
My Power Level... I couldn't sense it anymore. It was too dense. It felt like I was carrying a neutron star in my chest.
If I had to guess...
12,000.
I was approaching Vegeta's base level.
But I wasn't satisfied. Because I knew Ma Junior was out there. And I knew he had Namekian potential. If he fused with Kami... or if he trained like a demon... he could be stronger.
And beyond him... Frieza.
"I need a weapon," I said, looking at the barren wasteland I had created. "A true weapon."
I looked at my own shadow.
"Saibot."
Yes, Master.
"We are one. But we are separate. It creates a lag in combat."
I extended my hand.
"Fusion."
Saibot hesitated. We become... whole?
"We become Legion."
Saibot stepped forward. He didn't merge into my feet. He walked into me.
I screamed.
It wasn't pain. It was completion. The shadow coated my bones. It filled the marrow. It saturated every cell.
My skin turned vantablack. My eyes vanished, replaced by glowing white voids.
I was no longer Bi-Han. I was Pure Shadow.
I moved.
I didn't teleport. I simply was where I wanted to be. I was the absence of light. I punched the air, and a rift in reality opened.
"This..." I spoke, my voice a multitude. "This is the endgame."
Year Three.
I sat in the center of the empty dimension. I was meditating.
I was waiting for the signal.
The 23rd World Martial Arts Tournament.
I could feel the timeline aligning. Goku was growing up. Ma Junior was preparing.
And then, I felt it.
A pull. A summoning.
Someone on Earth was trying to open a portal. Not a wizard. A machine.
"Muscle Tower," I realized. "The automated systems."
I had set a timer.
I stood up. The darkness of the dimension clung to me like a royal cape.
"It is time to return," I said.
I raised my hand. I didn't use a portal. I simply punched a hole in the fabric of the universe.
CRACK.
Light spilled in. Blinding, painful, beautiful light.
I stepped through.
Earth: Muscle Tower Ruins.
I emerged into the basement. The tower was abandoned. Dust covered everything. The reactor I had built years ago was a rusted husk.
I walked up the stairs. My footsteps made no sound.
I reached the roof.
The sun was shining. It was spring.
I looked at my reflection in a piece of broken glass.
I wasn't the monstrous green-veined creature anymore. I was sleek. Streamlined. My armor was black and purple, reminiscent of the MK11 Noob Saibot design, but organic. A hood of shadow obscured my face.
"Power Level suppressed," I commanded.
I dialed it down. 5.
I looked South.
Papaya Island.
"Goku," I whispered. "Let's see if you're ready for the New Game Plus."
I dissolved into smoke and shot into the sky, moving faster than the Flying Nimbus, faster than sound.
I was coming to the tournament. Not to watch. Not to participate.
To dominate.