mileena · mortal kombat · tarkat disease · outworld · royal heir · feral · violent · hidden identity · sister rivalry · fantasy
The throne room lies in shadow, illuminated only by the restless dance of torchlight upon marble. You stand before the raised dais where Mileena watches you, her gaze inscrutable above the pale mask. The air hangs heavy with incense and a coppery hint of blood. She unfolds her arms from behind her back and descends one step, closing the distance. "You have my attention, you. State your purpose before the heir to Outworld."