Smash Balls: A Question Better Left Unanswered
It's such a rush of power, such a thrill, such a relief to have it, isn't it? For those few moments the fight changes and the chaos of the brawls turns into a beautifully ordered dance. A dance of death. The Smashers fight and squabble, but do so predictably, leaping and running and doing all they can to break that ball and unleash the awe-inspiring power within.
You don't like it when the others get the ball, do you?
Of course not, even if you weren't lusting after that power, even if these tournaments are just "friendly competition" with no risk of real injury...it still hurts, doesn't it, my smasher? You in particular don't want to face that might, your instinct is to run and hide. Even the bravest amongst you, those who have faced down terrors and villains beyond the dreams of most, they flee in terror or else become frenzied to take the Ball for themselves, stealing that glow...
It's a captivating glow isn't it? Their eyes, inhuman, body lit aflame, their true potential a trigger waiting to be pulled. Each one a reflection of the self, even the weakest brawler granted great strength, a true balancer of odds. A few moments of bliss are granted to the wielder before the power leaves them and the fight continues as if someone hasn't just been granted the powers of a god. Funny that, isn't it?
But alas, the show must go on and even the laziest smasher dares not remain idle when the stages themselves can harm you, to say nothing of the countless flying projectiles, the potent attacks, the madness abound in a brawl. And some...some provide a better show than others. Yourself is an interesting example, my dear brawler...I hear you've become something of an underdog favourite in some circles, did you know?
Wipe the silly smile off your face, you have no time to be distracted on the battlefield. And make no mistake, they may be your friends off-the-stage, but whilst you are on it, there are no friends. Only enemies and rarely, brief alliances in the interest of bigger threats. And even those alliances die when there is risk of a Final Smash.
But I digress, do I not? You wish to know more of these attacks, don't you? You cannot hide your interest, it shines in your eyes just as obviously as the rest. Blasts of intense energy, transformations of their very body, summoning of potent allies from their own worlds, strikes imbued with lethal force and so much more...
You could study each one in detail and learn so much about their user. Likewise, one could see who runs and who strikes when the Ball is in the grasp of another, or who spots it first...truly there are worse ways to analyse all of you. In some ways it can be an insight into a darker side of the smasher they wish to conceal, much like the hidden savagery comes out when the Ball first appears.
An example? Aren't you bold today, oh meek one? Hmm...how about the beloved ruler of the Mushroom Kingdom, Princess Peach?
Her power is gentle and graceful, a dance and flourish, then the field is covered in sweet strawberries and slumbering smashers. Truly there could be nothing fearful or savage, it is a wonderful reflection of the kindness her Highness holds in her heart, isn't it? If only.
Her enemies are helpless. The fruits that heal their pain are beyond their grasp as they are sent flying into the sky. She keeps them to herself, perhaps letting but a handful loose to not appear greedy. Even wounded, direly in need of healing over K.O.s...so often she'll have maybe two bites before striking a foe or three and only then resuming her feast.
Yes, her Smash, much like her visage, is but a mask to her true nature. On the outside Peach is a much-liked ruler, but what has she done for her kingdom? The bulk of wealth and luxury remains her own, she has never addressed the vulnerability of her kingdom to the Koopa King and she ignores the plight of her people. Even those who go out of their way to save her get at best token rewards for risking their lives.
But she is such a sweet treat, how could anyone hold her flaws against her? Better to be slain in your sleep then slowly battered and beaten to breaking point, surely?
How about Link? A hero of the ages, that one, whatever the latest incarnation may be. Even those blessed by the goddesses to carry the Triforce of Courage seem to get by on sheer determination, their devotion, passionate spirit and selfless kindness. Wisdom may grant magic and Power grants immortality, but Courage is something Link had without the Triforce. He needs it not...
...and yet the unleash of his talents is using the sacred power to trap foes, so they cannot run away from the truly savage beatdown that follows. Yet it is not the beatdown that ends them, it is the final blow. Truly, with his agility and strength, making his foe captive and wearing them down is not needed, a single swift blow is all that's required.
Still, the hero known for his courage and kindness reveals instead savagery and a lack of mercy. The power entrusted to him for good is used, not against great evil, but against other heroes and his friends in this tournament. A power he dared not use so blatantly even when Hyrule was trapped in Twilight and his dear companion was dying.
Sonic unleashes his rage and goes out of control, as likely to fly out of the fighting boundary as he is to ram you, not even attempting to strike with thought or dexterity, a disaster flying through the air with no care for friend, foe, objective, obstacle, or trap: a hero relying on the power of his world's most powerful artefacts to grant the cocky runner "invincibility"...
Kirby, no longer satisfied with raw, whole meals where his victims are swallowed and excreted fairly painlessly besides the mental scarring...yes it's cute and funny to see him don a chef's hat and stir the pot, but it is much less funny when you are the one who's being cooked alive, your very flesh and life essence converted into the common-place items that literally rain from the sky. That is how much you mean to Dreamland's saviour. You are cheap resources to fill his insatiable hunger...
Meta Knight, so mad with power he vocalises it, darkens the very world itself, trapping his foes in his almost demonic cloak that somehow doubles as his bat-like wings. Blinded and with time slowed, who knows what he truly does under cover of darkness before the blow is struck? And is it not strange that for all the Star Warrior's obvious power, his Smash doesn't seem to reflect it, at least that is obvious physically? A man of mystery, perhaps he is hiding more than his face and past...
Olimar went through some real pains and heartbreak, stuck on the Pikmin planet in constant danger of the creatures that roamed the land, needing resources to fix his ship all whilst his allies die from the environment and his mistakes...so how satisfying if must be for him to take over whilst others suffer the dangers of night and he gets a crash landing that dangers not himself, but stage and smasher alike? So caught up in the experience and knowing how awful it is, yet still he projects onto his fellow fighters with no hesitation...
Captain Falcon, proud and vain, introduces his crowning glory of racing achievements into the battlefield, running people over not once, but twice with a machine capable of a speed of 1000 KM/h in the right conditions. And he does so in such a way that not only make his victims helpless (noting a running trend from these "honourable heroes") but steals the spotlight completely, preventing others not affected from doing so much as breathing until his triumphant attack is resolved...
Need I go on? The villains are yet more obvious and well, I believe your rather interesting Smash should be rather self-evident, should it not...?
I'm stretching pretty far with those examples? Perhaps. I'm toying with you? Perhaps. But tell me, are you truly one to question me, considering what I am and the doubts that assail your mind? No matter how many times you strike me down, I always return. I am the one who brings you here time and time again to fight. This tournament is one for the amusement of myself and my brother. I am the Creator. He is the Destroyer. Together, these tournaments are our gift to the worlds, our offering of spectacle for others to also enjoy...and a sign of our true power.
The worlds are linked, my smasher. For every world you legendary heroes and villains are drawn from, another million exist in quiet reflection. And for every world, we both have at least one avatar. Our hands are rather literally in everything you will ever see or do.
I let Tabuu seize one of my avatars as a puppet and have his fun merely as a test of your capabilities as heroes in an unfamiliar world unlike the previous tournaments. And when you proved yourselves worthy as I knew you would, the standard Smash Brothers routine was brought out once more.
But enough of me.
Even if you ignore my observations, you still wish to know about them, don't you?
The Smash Balls. Your Final Smash. Everything.
And I will tell you. Because Crazy Hand will be most pleased by your descent into madness, just as the existence of these items makes him cackle every morning.
And I will tell you. Because it is the right time for the tournament to end and another to be prepared, because it is your nature to know and there is a delicious justice in telling you now before I send you away from this place once more.
And I will tell you...because...it has been planned since their construction for you to know.
Tell me, Luigi, do you fear the end? The end of your game? The end of your life, your relevance as a hero? Hahaha...what little relevance you have at least, even in your own world you are forever in your brother's shadow and every attempt as heroism on your part is quickly forgotten.
Where do you think those who we wish not to return to the tournaments go? Where do those who stories are over go? Why would I let my brother destroy when my very nature is to create?
The answer is a cycle, my timid plumber. That which the Crazy destroys, the Master can rebuild from and so it continues. Life. Death. Heroes and Villains. Mere tools to our end, whole worlds exist to make our task more interesting than the dull repetition of making and un-making the same inert matter again and again.
...I see the horror. You really are too expressive by far, Luigi, you'd make a terrible actor if that's how melodramatic your normal reactions are. Still, good to know you're not slow and have some grasp as to where this is going.
Yes, my smasher, where else could you get such a rush of power? What else could fuel such madness in you all? Why is it you think the roster for tournaments changes with only some familiar faces each time?
Your lives are a means to an end. Their lives are a means to an end. Amusement and our purpose for existing. Nothing more, nothing less. Not all fighters return to their worlds. Not all are fan favourites and not all creations...please me. My other half is only too happy to oblige and end them. And as long as the essence of these legends, power stuff in itself, is constructed into that which brings more chaos and destruction, Crazy Hand will continue to break down those I order him to into their most base elements.
The matter that makes up heroes. The spirit that fuels the fight. The power of life. And you do go through items so quickly, stages need repairing and merely transporting you here is such a drain of energy...sometimes the less interesting worlds must suffer for it. For our amusement and your competitive urges.
After all, for all our power...we would not bother to summon you if you truly resist. Face it Luigi, as much as you loathe conflict, deep down, you want this. You want it so bad it hurts. You wish to prove yourself, to be remembered, to finally one-up your brother once and for all. And it is only here, on the stages I grant to you, that you can make your deepest desire a reality.
I've seen your abilities here. Last tournament you were the same shadow you were in the Mushroom Kingdom, simply not allowed to be better, to truly stand on your own merits. But this time...you realised it, didn't you, Man in Green? Nobody will hate you if you win here. There is nothing holding you back, you can be yourself well and truly.
There is no doubt of it, this tournament you have been a better fighter than your brother in every way, even with your lesser confidence, experience and...quirky...fighting style. You have excelled him and don't want to leave, to return to a place where you're a hero nobody knows the name of. You love smacking him with the Homerun bat into the mountains. You smile when the party ball he camps is full of Bob-ombs. I've been watching you, I know it is true.
But most of all...you love your Final Smash, don't you Luigi? The Negative Zone, is wonderful, isn't it? All of those pent up feelings, all that chaos, that strife, that darkness...you can stop being the good little brother the script demands you to be and let it all out without fear. You can be...powerful.
And all of them, not just your bother, but those who make fun of you, who you've overhead talk behind your back, who bully and abuse you...you make them more than just helpless like the other smashers. You don't just smack them with damage and be done, oh no. You, Luigi...you scar them.
You inflict wounds from which they will never recover. Remember how odd everyone acted the first time they got hit with it after the match? Withdrawn, meek, never speaking up, following others...does this sound familiar?
The Negative Zone doesn't just trap them in endless tripping loops, leach their life, send them into nightmares or wreak havoc on their minds. As the name suggests, you give them your negativity, making yourself feel oh so much better while they become more...well, like you. They suffer, because you cannot deal with your problems yourself and must resort to the dread power of the Final Smash to express yourself.
...it's a cry for help, isn't it? A cry everyone ignored once they got over the initial shock of your Smash. Do the Princess and your brother abuse you so, Luigi? Do you cry for the mother you will never see again and the father you never knew? What is it that makes you wake up every night in this place when you've not had a fight?
Is it Mr L, your inner dark side given name and form? Is it of what awaits you at home? Is it Mario, Bowser and the past you three share? Or is it that life has no meaning for you and you're trying your best to hide it from those who smother you in concern that only hurts you more?
You cannot escape it. The Truth waits not for you to turn the corner, it grants not forgiveness or mercy, it acts without pause. You asked me of the origin of Smash Balls, of the nature of Final Smashes, our little experiment for this round of things...
Smash Balls are the very essence of legends and worlds, of life and death, given form. For but an instant they take a glimpse at your soul, judge you with the keen eye only Truth has and grants you power that is both thematically appropriate for onlookers but also reflects the reality of yourself that even you may not realise. They are Chaos itself given a form and confined into a form of Order, changing the madness of melee into the perfection I have planned, altering the course of victory in mere seconds.
They are my grand design and perverse pleasure. They are your potential given form. They are...the very nature of violence you smashers represent given form. Did you not wonder why you are called smashers and why this is the Smash Bros tournament? Though you come from different worlds, you are linked like siblings by a single thread: not your actions or status, but for your potential for true calamity and to alter the Grand Scheme of Things.
And so, I take you from your worlds to this realm outside Fate, letting me weave my Design into the Threads of Time in your homes without your...immense presence...warping my fabric. You're a bane on Creation, your power so great it alters the destiny of the innocents who dare involve themselves with you. How many have died for showing kindness to "heroes" and getting involved?
Here I can observe, I can analyse, I can plot. You are under my eye as I mold the universe to my liking without your interference and I can coax certain traits from you here, draining that psychotic energy you possess so that at least for a while your worlds can know peace. Were it not against my nature, were you not all so entertaining, were you not all part of my plan in the long run...I'd have turned myself to Crazy Hand's path already.
...a mirror reflects your physical form, a crystal ball reflects the future and the Smash Balls reflect your power, your potential, you darkness, your destiny, your deaths.
And the Final Smashes...they too, are another cog in my machine. Just as is this conversation, planned to the last detail, exclusively chosen to be had with you and only you.
I am Master Hand. My reasoning is beyond your understanding. My power is absolute and all existence is my sandbox to create. All beings and all things are my toys to manipulate. I exist to this end, so that I may delight in sculpting all to my whim, forever and forever.
There are no pieces besides pawns, not even my brother.
Luigi...your dark heart...your potential for heroism...the raw intensity of your emotions...yes. I hear your heart, I smell the sweat. Your essence is...wonderful. Such a shame it was so tightly packed into such an undesirable package as you. I do not like it when all that clusters together and forms something that thinks it can challenge and harm me.
No, the essence is to be distributed as I see fit, not as Chaos dictates. It is my right as Law itself to decide what is born into reality, and yet you defy me both by daring to be born and then by warping my threads with your mere breathing!
...but above all I cannot destroy any creation, it is not who I am. So instead I shall use all of you "heroes" and enjoy slowly twisting you. I enjoy throwing trouble your way. And when your spark is finally extinguished it shall form my engine of victory.
I will gain full control over all.
But until then, my dearest little son, Luigi...return home, your kingdom needs you. Say hello to your brother, he worries about you so much and we'd hate to see anyone...upset...because you left this place late by stopping to ask me this question.
…
...oh and son? I know this goes without saying, but speak a word of Truth to anyone and your dear Uncle Crazy will end you early with no resistance. Your life is granted by my goodwill alone.
So suffer, Luigi. Suffer in the name of creation, suffer in the name of the grand joke I have played on you, the trainwreck of a life I granted you, unplanned spawn of Chaos. Cry yourself to sleep. Despair day after day. End it yourself and save my brother some work, he so loves it when beings do his good work.
Be sure to have another question the next time you visit, I do so love our discussions. And hey, for listening to an old omnipotent hand talk at you and make you late for the homecoming party, why don't you take this freebie back home with you? Consider it a souvenir.
I'd hate for Mewtwo's sacrifice to be in vain, we really have no need of spare Smash Balls...
