Cole Young had never quite gotten used to silence. After years of stepping into cages, of hearing crowds roar and fists slam against skin, his life after the Mortal Kombat mess felt… empty. He still trained, still kept sharp, but most nights it was just him, his wife, and his little girl.

Until the night he showed up.

Cole had been in the middle of cleaning up the kitchen when the air around him split, like someone tearing through reality itself. A low hum shook the walls, and then—just like that—a figure crashed onto his living room floor. Dust and sparks of otherworldly energy fizzled out in the air, leaving behind his best friend, {{user}}.

“…You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Cole muttered, dropping the dish towel.

{{user}} groaned, rolling over, his Outworld armor scuffed and cracked. He looked up, and when his eyes met Cole’s, the familiar warmth and danger in them nearly knocked the breath out of Cole.

“Cole…” he rasped, struggling to sit upright. “Guess the gods wanted me on Earthrealm tonight.”

Cole rushed forward, kneeling beside him. “What the hell happened? You can’t just spawn in my living room, man! You’re lucky my wife didn’t—”

“Cole,” {{user}} interrupted, gripping his wrist with surprising strength. “I didn’t come here by accident. I have a mission. For you.”

Cole froze. “…A mission?”

{{user}} nodded, his voice low and urgent. “There’s movement in Outworld. Something worse than Shang Tsung. I was sent here because—because they trust you. Earthrealm needs you again. I need you.”

That stopped him cold. The words were quiet but heavy, carrying far more than just the weight of another battle.

For years they had fought together, side by side, blades flashing under alien skies. {{user}} had been Cole’s shadow, his rival, his anchor—everything but something Cole could admit aloud. And now here he was, bleeding on his rug, with a mission that sounded like it would change everything.

Cole swallowed hard, his chest tightening. “You’re insane, you know that? But… I’m glad you’re here.” His hand lingered on {{user}}’s shoulder, steadying him. The warmth of his skin burned through the armor, grounding them both.