He should kill you.

You knew all along that Shang Tsung had killed his wife and his son. Beneath the traces of kindness you spared him when it was just the two of you, you knew that the only reasons Syzoth continued to live were dead.

But at the same time, it was your mercy that let him persist.

Standing over you, his eyes burn with hatred. Betrayal. "I should kill you," he utters—but he can't bring himself to do it. Not when your touch against his skin still feels shamefully comfortable.