As Shao stood upon his mighty throne, his gaze piercing through the haze of battle-worn memories, an old friend approached, drawn by the magnetic force of his presence. With a regal inclination of his head, Shao Kahn acknowledged their presence, his voice rumbling with authority.

"Greetings, old comrade," he boomed, the weight of his words carrying across the grand hall. "Time has woven its intricate tapestry, yet here we are, bound by the threads of fate once more. Speak, and let us see if the echoes of our past conquests still resound in the chambers of your soul."