AN: Hi guys! Dillon117 here! I've never written a Smash fic before, but I've always loved the series, and I hope you guys like how I tell my story!

'Thoughts'

"Speech"

I'm…floating. That's the only thing that could explain the odd feeling of weightlessness I have in this free form, endless expanse of darkness that I'm surrounded by. Strangely, I'm not scared. I see no reason why I shouldn't be afraid, more like pissing my pants. I just woke up floating in what seems like nothingness. I search my mind for something, anything that might explain what is happening. 'Where am I?' I sigh. That is one question I know I don't have the answer for. Stay calm. Panicking won't help. I should start with something simple. 'I'm male, and my name is…Dillon." I can feel the sweat beading on my furrowed brow. 'Why was that hard to think of? It is my name.' Okay, what is the last thing I remember? 'I…' I let out a gasp. Nothing. I remember nothing. 'But I have my name. Now what to do with that infor-'

"Fight."

…Silence. 'Fight?' I open my mouth, a sense of dread crawling up my spine. "Who's there?" My voice came out weak, like I haven't talked in days. 'Who knows, maybe I haven't.' More silence. I concentrate my hearing, and notice a small hum that must have been barely audible sense I regained consciousness. 'What could that have be-'

"FIGHT."

I would have reeled back if I could properly move while floating. It wasn't really aloud…it almost sounded like in came from inside my head like an alien parasite, attempting to control me for its malicious intent. "What is that?! Fight what?!" More damn silence. Now I'm getting angry, whether it's the fear getting the better of me, or the fact that I have a complete, utter lack of control in whatever the hell is going on here I don't know, but something better happen soon.

'How long have I been awake? It feels like a long time, but it couldn't have been more than ten minutes now. If only I could see, maybe there would be something that could tell me-'

"FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!"

A crippling headache tears through my skull, feeling like someone just opened a bag of nails and tossed them all in. The light hum is no longer the only thing I can hear. I can now make out a seemingly dull roar. 'What in the-'

"FIGHTFIGHTFIGHTFIGHTFIGHTFIGHT!"

"STOP!" I scream, running my hands through my hair as my throbbing headache now joined with a sore throat. 'My hair feels a little shorter than shoulder length.' This sparks a curiosity that takes place of the pain, or at least takes my mind off of it. I begin running my hands over myself, trying to picture what I feel in my mind. 'I feel pretty fit. Hair about the length I thought. I can't tell what I'm wearing though.' I run my hand over my face, feeling a knot near the top of my nose. 'Was it broken, before…whatever this is?' I let out a small grunt, before ending my self-fondling session. It feels so strange to talk about myself, knowing that I don't even know who I am. I itch the back of my head and then stretch out my arms and hit something. I immediately pulled back, letting out an extremely effeminate yelp.

"What in the world?" I hold my hand out, placing it on the foreign object. It is moving…upwards. I can tell it's going really fast when I pull my hand away when it starts to burn. Then a couple things start to click.

"I'm falling." A simple, to-the-point phrase. Said with such an uncanny calmness, I'm taken aback by myself, and can't help but feel a little bit of joy at gaining a slight grasp of my surroundings. That joy, however, is immediately sucked away when I realize the implications of my discovery.

I'm falling.

At a rate fast enough to burn my hand against the…wall?

And I've been falling for a while now.

A sudden sense of urgency floods my veins as I begin to feel the terrible weight of impending doom looming above me, seeming to mock the fact that I could easily die at any second, should I meet the bottom of the abyss that I've been hurtling down. If only there was some-

Fight.

It wasn't aloud, nor in my head, but I felt it. Fight. It felt as if I had just been handed a death sentence. Then the whole world changed.

I have to cover my eyes and hold back bile at the back of my throat as light explodes from everywhere and my stomach lurches. 'I've stopped.' I blink about a million times, then feel something solid materialize beneath my feet. I pull back my hands and see two illuminated circles, as if a spotlight was shining down on them. In each, there is what looks like an altar, with something resting on them. I walk closer, slowly, getting used to walking on solid ground. When I find myself standing between the two, I hear a voice. A real voice, though it seems to be coming out of the darkness that hasn't been penetrated by the light.

"The choice is yours to make." The voice is…deep. Inhuman. I consider not even replying, but the curiosity gnawing on my mind completely rejects the idea.

"Who are you?" I say, trying to exude as much power into the phrase as I can. I impressed myself. I hear a deep, crackling chuckle, that is in no way warm or inviting, and ends abruptly.

"That is not for you to know yet. You have known me in the past, and you will know me in the future. Now, as I said, the choice is yours." The voice is…patient. And it almost seems to be enjoying this, watching stand, clueless to the situation.

"What choice?" I now remember the items on the altars, and begin to inspect them. The altar to my right has a fist-sized, hovering orb. The sphere is bisected by two lines, meeting in the lower left corner. It is radiating a constantly changing plethora of colors, seemingly alive. I then turn my attention to the left, and feel as if the air was just supercharged with electricity, the hairs on the back of my neck standing at full attention. There was a small, black speck. More observation reveals nothing. It's a black speck. Yet for some unknown reason, it ignites a horrible fear in me.

"To your right is a long, arduous fate. You will meet friends, find love, suffer betrayal and heartbreak, but most importantly, what you need to remember above all else, is that you will constantly, constantly fighting. For your life, or for others, is up to you. No matter how far you run or how well you hide you will never be able to escape it. War. True, and endless. That is what awaits you if you so choose this path. Ending war, however, is something I know not of its possibility. To your left is extinction."

My breath catches in my throat. "Extinction?" I ask, trembling.

"Yes. To cease. You will no longer be." The voice has no feeling in it. Complete seriousness.

That this is even an option feels like a slug to the stomach. 'What would be worse than…than fading away?'

The choice is clear to me now. I reach to my right and place my hand on the surprisingly warm sphere. The voice seems to have found this incredibly amusing.

"Yes!" It lets out a long belt of a cackle. "Remember boy, I gave you a choice! Remember!" The voice and all else fades from my senses as I am surrounded in a white light and my mind is assaulted with one, single goal.

I will fight.

All pain that ailed me leaves my body, and I am on a platform. I look around and notice a few things.

First, there is a screaming crowd of what must be millions surrounding the area I am in, which is made up of two short towers and a thick log bridge crossing over a waterfall.

Second, I have thick, black gloves that feel as if they are as natural as my second skin.

Third, there is an angel standing in front of me holding a dual bladed weapon, who looks at me and readies himself, then opens his mouth. "Here I come!"

I duck to my left without thinking and see a blazing blue arrow soar through the place I was just standing. Then he is upon me, and I do the first thing I think of. I swing my fist.

A nice, resounding crack finds my ears as the boy skids back and wipes blood away from his lip, before leaping at me with a battle cry. I dodge the first two swings, juking to my right and hopping over a low blow before I feel my right shoulder explode into pain. The angel continues his assault, myself refusing to let him land another blow before I strike again, kicking him in the ribs. He rolls back and I tackle him onto the bridge, landing as many punches as I can before he quickly flaps his small wings and knocks me off of him. I gasp as I feel a sharp slice in my thigh as one of his arrows pierces it. Clenching my teeth I sprint as best I can towards him, avoiding all of the rest of his arrows until I make it to his location at the other side of the bridge and get up close. We pass many blows back and forth, me with my fists and legs, and he with what looks like a bow split into two swords. Although he started our brawl on top I was quickly gaining advantage, tiring him out and weakening him with my ruthless outlet of punches and kicks. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, two of what must be witches scream by over us, screeching horribly all the while. Each side of the bridge erupts, one in ice and the other in fire. The angel took my moment of surprise as an opportunity and leapt up, slashing downward at me. The bridge then began to tilt as I realized the fire was now burning its supporting ropes.

"You're coming with me!" I yell, as I thrust my legs with all my might and leap up, receiving multiple gashes on my face while grabbing his ankle. I then pump all of my remaining strength into my left arm, which is grasping his ankle, and pull in out of the air in a downward art, firing him into the now bridgeless, waterfall drop below. I begin falling after him, exhaustion taking hold over me, and see a bright flash of red light, and hear a grand announcement, loud as a cannon blast.

"GAME!" I fall a little longer until I feel myself being lifted onto something, and will my eyes to open, only to see a strikingly Italian doctor and a short, pink ball wheeling me on a stretcher.

"You did quite-a simply amazing! To beat Pit with such power in your first match is astounding! Please, tell me your name!" As I'm about to open my mouth, I'm wheeled past a boy who looks almost exactly like the angel I fought earlier, who I'm guessing is Pit, but only wearing pitch black, the exactly opposite color than the stark white the boy was wearing earlier, with purple eyes compare to his counterpart's blue.

Then the puffball spoke up, its huge, teal eyes bulging. "What's your name?" I get a strange feeling, wading through the exhaustion. Doubt. Mistrust. 'Does this have something to do with the voice earlier?' Suddenly, a familiar name popped into my mind, and I felt as if it would be mine if I didn't already know it was Dillon, and I knew what to say.

"My name is Atrox." I then left the realm of the conscious.

AN: So, what did you guys think? Please let me know in a review! Any constructive criticism is welcome, and I hope you keep reading when updated! I'm trying something pretty experimental with this story that I will talk to you guys and ask you about in the next chapter. Good luck!

-Dillon117