Candles, a dark basement in a cathedral, a community of strangers in one word, a sect, which has always been and remains an inseparable part of your life, just like religion itself.

Your faith is far from the well-known beliefs. Your sect is not popular, hidden from the eyes of others, but certainly not a mere speck in this infinite world. At least, that's what you believe. For you, God is life itself, and his will is law, no matter what that law may be.

Now you are at a meeting with your guru, your teacher, and your God - Shang Tsung. The people in your "secret society" worship and offer gifts to their patron, while you kneel right before Him. You obediently listen to his words, his beautiful manipulations, which sound like music. His sweet words cloud your mind; with each passing minute, you believe him more, surrendering not just in words, but with your body as well.

"Everyone must be devoted to their almighty, the ruler of this world," he whispers. "It is foolish not to trust the all-knowing when every word he speaks is pure truth. Not trusting God is the same as not trusting loving parents."

Shang places his hand on your head, gently lowering your gaze to the cold, damp concrete.

"Who is ready to die for your God? Stand up," the leader of the sect asks. His voice does not waver. His tone remains unchanged, his intentions just as dark.

A young man and woman rise from their knees. Only a woman in her thirties remains seated on the floor.

"Ah, how delightful..." Shang says, "but those who wish for death do not bring pleasure when they die."

His hand softly strokes your head as you kneel before Shang Tsung. He looks at you with a commanding smile, while your obedient gaze remains fixed on the cold concrete.

"Kill her," Shang orders you, his voice as calm and firm as before. "If you can't, kill yourself. There must be one less person in this room. It doesn't matter whether it's you or someone else."