Welcome to the second entry in my Kirby saga of stories. Technically, this is the third one to be written, but chronologically it comes second after Left Alone and before Trapped Together. Check those out if you wish.

This story is called Fading Away (you'll see why later), and will be, like my other stories so far, rather dark and experimental.

Here are some review replies from the last chapter of the previous story, Left Alone

Bunnyrabbit202 Glad you're excited! Hope it was worth the wait for you and for everyone.

Be sure to review and follow this story. It's highly appreciated on my end! Now, once again...let us begin.

Once upon a time, long, long, long ago, there were two brothers. They got along well with each other, enjoying the other's company and all.

But they soon grew bored. Beside their typical antics, there wasn't much else to do.

So at some point, at the wave of their fingers, they created the universe as a playground, providing them space to wander around and populate for fun.

The first brother, cheerful and always having wanted to witness spectacle, created the stars to light up their sandbox, to tell stories, and such.

The second brother, more pragmatic than their counterpart and not wanting to be blinded by the blaring lights that now surrounded them, created the black holes to organize the chaos. This would lead to the first galaxies to be formed.

In spite of the large space and nearly endless potential surrounding them, both brothers found themselves bored and lonely once the novelty wore off. They agreed to create some new beings that could affect their surroundings, but not too much, in order to keep their universe dynamic and interesting.

Upon the planets that circled the various stars, these inhabitants were allotted room to grow, expand, live, and change. Some looked of behaved weirder than others, but that was part of the fun. This...unpredictability. It was exciting to behold.

The first brother soon found himself befriended by a group of their creations that would later be known as "the ancients". This particular set of people had even given them the honor of being bequeathed a name: Galeem, or "god" in their ancient language.

The second brother, meanwhile, did not view themselves as equals next to their creations. They were an immortal deity that deserved to be respected and deserved to dictate them all without question. Sensing the evil fostering within their brother, Galeem attempted to convince their counterpart of otherwise. They never listened.

Given that Galeem refused to allow direct influence over the petty minds of the ancients or any other race of intelligent life, they instead chose to manipulate them. To tempt them. Feeding from their insecurities, their fears, their bloodlust. This only further aligned them into the darkness.

The ancients would refer to the second brother as "Galeemen Dharkon", or "Dark God", to reflect their increasingly negative aura. This only made their hatred toward these creatures grow.

In the end, Dharkon struck first. With the help of the ancients, their physical form was destroyed and Galeem emerged victorious, thus allowing their fellow creations to continue their existence in freedom and good will. From then on, the brothers became bitter enemies.

A prophet from a faraway world predicted the return of Dharkon. How they would forever return until their vision for a subservient universe was completed, and with it, the destruction of all goodness in the universe and the subjugation of its peoples. This individual, however, had referred to Dharkon by another name; one they believed to be more fitting.

The destroyer of worlds, evil and darkness incarnate. And the cruel end to a beautiful existence.

Void Termina.

At least, so said the myths. The legends. Nobody really knew if Galeem and Void Termina were even related at all.

Continuing on, for thousands of years, the prophecy would prove to be on the right track. Void Termina would continue to return, each time getting more and more crafty with their power grabs. Each time, their list of allies grew, eventually containing the names of such vile creatures as Nightmare and Dark Matter. Each time, their sheer power increased.

Until, finally, the prophecy was fulfilled, and Termina destroyed Galeem. This had coincided with a crushing defeat for the lighteners' armies, affirming their spectacular and terrifying victory.

At long last, they reigned supreme. They were the ones in control. Whilst their minions and lackeys craved power, the selfish fools, they craved dominance. And they now had their dominance.

...But not for long. They were too distracted by their victories to notice one small oversight.

Descendants of the ancients and members of a new group calling itself the Galactic Soldier Army had put together a final resistance to dismantle the evil deity, and succeeded with the cost of newly everyone in their party. But by then it was too late. The darkness now reigned, and it would take several millennia before balance was restored.

From then on, the see-saw teetered back and forth between the darkness and the light, but strangely, unlike all the other times, Void Termina had not returned in body. Galeem hadn't either, only further contributing to their mythological statuses.

Both sides fractured and factionalized. For the darkness, there was Nightmare's "New Merit and Enterprise Corporation" — or "Namenco" or "NME" for short; the Dark Matter Collective, and tens of other groups. For the light, the GSA contended with hundreds of other organizations. Things settled down into the usual cycle, and continued to be that way for millennia.

The name "Void Termina" became a boogeyman term, along with their various other aliases. They and Galeem went from myth to legend to obscurity just like that.

Which was why now had been the perfect time to strike. When everyone was now set on a routine. When everyone was bickering. Void Termina may not have had a physical form, but its influence continued to permeate throughout the universe. Through this, they had prevented the darkness to fracturing as much as the light had, but it wasn't enough. They needed someone to act. And someone did.

Namenco had finally managed to effectively wipe out the GSA, leaving the Gamble Galaxy, once the home of the ancients, open for conquest. From here, Nightmare was influenced to go to a planet called Popstar and retrieve the Star Rod, whose immense abilities would allow the dark lord to be restored and fully revived, meaning that they would get the honor of resuming their old leader's cut-short reign.

They had come so close to achieving it. So painfully close. When a child suddenly came out of the picture, seemingly from nowhere, and destroyed Nightmare.

Their name was Kirby. He lived on Popstar. And for years, he would prove as the most irritating of nuisances.

Zero and the DMC were sent numerous times to seize the rod or, should that fail, conquer the galaxy. To accomplish this, they took control of one of the Star Rod's defenders, King Dedede, and captured the nearby Ripple Star as a forward base. And what happens? They're defeated by Kirby.

Queen Sectonia, another monarch on Planet Popstar, unwittingly is corrupted by the Dimensional Mirror, allowing Void Termina freedom to directly alter her mind. In time, she would have the desire to become a goddess herself, though in reality this would grant Termina a powerful pawn to rule in their place. And what happens? She is defeated by Kirby.

Every single time Void Termina tried to regain their form or to any means to do so, directly or indirectly, they were repulsed by Kirby.

But now, most insultingly...it happened.

A few minutes ago, they had been revived via an ancient dark ritual — a most devious of sacrifices — one they hadn't counted on as it didn't provide them with a towering, terrorizing physique. They instead had been summoned by a dark cult who worshipped them. It was a surprise — they had been too focused on other ordeals and plans that they had forgotten about Hyness and his cult, but it only served to benefit him. The vessel they had been provided, albeit weaker than wanted, was still decently menacing, fueled by the spilt blood of the wisecrack. Finally, after hundreds of centuries of inactivity and patience, after being thwarted again and again by that Kirby, they had returned.

But not for long. Again.

Almost immediately after at last having regained their physical form, they were assaulted by a group of lighteners that called themselves the "Star Allies". Whatever that meant. Mere ants to be crushed, surely.

Except no. Termina wasn't going to be cocky just because they were a step away from victory. These ants were led by Kirby. Of course. The fool had summoned them out of desperation.

And it was all thanks to this beacon of hope that this band of lighteners was able to even dare standing against them. This "Kirby of the Stars", this star warrior. And then, albeit with an admittedly valiant effort, the Star Allies destroyed Termina. A crushing blow.

The defeat was so devastating and unexpected. They hadn't even been given a chance to get their bearings.

Void Termina never thought they'd ever have to personally experience anger before. That was an emotion reserved for lesser beings, light and dark. Besides, there was a stark contrast between feeling an emotion to influence it and actually feeling the emotion yourself. And Void Termina...they were extremely angry.

They had done their waiting. They had built up their forces. And now it had to be done all over again, as their destruction had rendered them mostly powerless. At this rate, all the darkeners would be crushed like flies beneath the puffball's shoes!

This Kirby...he was a target that should have been destroyed long ago. For too long he had been allowed to roam free. For too long had he been the biggest obstacle in their history. For too long had he postponed and postponed and outright prevented their revival. This time, punishment wouldn't be dealt with by any demon beast, nor through a weak, foolish subordinate, nor through anyone else! Now things were personal.

But what could they do? They were but a rump is their former self, and besides, Kirby had proven himself to be incorruptible, especially after...

Hold on a second.

That one accomplice of his... The one that had wished for Popstar to be theirs not too long ago. The one that had nearly made Kirby slip over the edge years ago, back when he was still...vulnerable. He was standing beside Kirby when they were defeated, as one of the Star Allies.

Even now, Void Termina could sense that Kirby felt a twinge of nervousness whenever he, Marx, was around, locked away in the back of his mind.

If they could chuckle to themselves, they would have. He was still vulnerable after all. It wasn't the strongest foundation for them to build upon, made worse by the fact that it was something the lightener's mind seemed to pay little attention to, and as such it wouldn't be easy to influence Kirby as a whole. But it was a starting point, regardless. A gateway into ridding themselves of a long-standing hole in their plans. If successful, Termina would at the very least get to drag Kirby down with them. If not, they had the patience to wait for their next revival, no matter how long it would take, by which time the nuisance would certainly have perished.

As much as Void Termina seemed impatient, they ultimately weren't. It just so happened that they were motivated by a powerful need for vengeance. All that was left to do was to set the plan to set itself into motion...

For Kirby, tomorrow was to going to be one of those days of relaxation and carefreeness.

He had every reason to want to settle down. By all reasonable accounts, this adventure had been quite the grand one; saving Popstar from a cult that worshipped a great evil entity, and then subsequently going out into Another Dimension to save said cult's leader from their own insanity. Certainly what one would call eventful, though certainly not out of the ordinary in regards to what he had dealt with.

He and the Star Allies had just returned home from aforementioned dimension, and now Dream Land could once again sleep well, knowing that Kirby and friends would always be there to save the day from any threat, no matter how dangerous the villain or dire the situation.

And thus, the star warrior laid beneath the shade of the trees, ready to dose off into a relaxing nap. These moments of rest were surprisingly common, now that he thought about it. He was sure that he wouldn't be caught off guard by another invading force like the last time, when the Jamba Heart shards started corrupting everything they came into contact with and his quest began in earnest. Nor...the time before that, when a world-conquering technocratic dictatorship started metalicizing everything — geez, no wonder these guys always get away with trying to invade Popstar all the time (at first, at least). Goodness, he might need to work on his sleep cycle or something.

The Star Allies, a collection of friends he had run into throughout the years who had aided him throughout the journey, were busying themselves with banter, conversing about who knows what. He didn't remember if he coined the phrase or not, but that didn't really matter. Among the large collection of people were the usual suspects of King Dedede, Bandana Dee, and Meta Knight.

And then there was Marx. He was the first of the "other" category to arrive, beside the enemies he befriended through the use of Friend Hearts on the campaign. He even joined before Meta Knight, in fact. Regarding Marx, Kirby had kept a keen watch on him ever since they separated many years ago after the Sun and Moon Incident, though it was mainly because Marx was the one trying to spy on him, as if he were secretly craving...something. Some sort of...completeness, as if trying to fill a void in his soul.

Even though Marx was ultimately convinced to join along for the ride, Kirby never let up on his watchful eye over his former best friend. He didn't fully trust him at the start, though it had nothing to do with his past actions.

Even now, victories achieved and new allies made, Kirby still watched over Marx and his behavior, albeit no longer due to distrust. He initially thought it was some sort of overreaction, like an overprotective parent always checking to make sure their child was safe, but he quickly ruled the possibility out as that wasn't the sort of relationship he and Marx have. Or had. Something else was at play. Something he hadn't really experienced for a while now.

Marx looked so cute. So sweet. Like he could be eaten up as a tasty pastry. The purple jester in question was seated in a group consisting of some of the star warrior's former opponents: Magolor, the alien who had attempted to deceive Kirby and Co. into granting him control over the universe; Susie, the interim president of the Haltmann Works Company and robotic assistant of their previous president (whom Kirby deposed after he tried to conquer Popstar); Taranza, the misled arachanid servant to the former Queen of Floralia, who sought to use them in a bid for world domination — goodness, a lot of overly ambitious ex-villains are here in attendance — and even the latest foes to come over to his side, the Three Mage Sisters — Franberge, Francisca, and Zan Partizanne — and their revitalized master, Hyness. Amongst all of them, Kirby knew that Marx wasn't too dissimilar from them, but as far as they knew, Marx appeared to be odd one out in their little group for more reasons than one.

"Hey! Bub!" called Susie.

"Wha-?" said Marx. "Who're you calling—"

"The Kirby always seems to be keeping you under close watch." she said. "Explain."

Marx shrugged. "Beats me."

"Oh come on!" groaned Taranza. "Even you know you're lying."

"I mean, some of us have done some pretty reprehensible things." commented Magolor. He turned to where Susie and the Mage Sisters were situated and emphasized, "Some more so than others."

"Not like you're any better." scolded Zan.

"We're all guilty here!" shouted Flamberge.

"L-Let off!" stuttered Francisca.

Susie just shrugged. Goodness, these natives and organics can be so irritating sometimes.

Before she could bring the subject back on track, Marx spoke up. "It doesn't matter anymore, though, does it? We're all Kirby's friends now, right?"

"Correction: Allies." Susie interjected. "Are we and the Kirby on positive terms? Yes. Are we and the Kirby friends? No; at least not for myself."

"Hey, speaking of, um..." started Magolor. He trailed before a realization came to mind. "Hey, you never told us your name! Care to tell?"

Marx flatly responded, "It's Marx. Happy?"

"Happy as Mappy!" he cheered. "So...as I was asking, how did you and Kirby meet up, exactly?"

"Does it matter?"

"Course it does." said Zan.

"We tried to kill the brat 'cause he got in Hyness's way!" shouted Flamberge.

"He is our master, after all, so what else could we do?" said Francisca.

"I was just following Queen Sectonia's orders." commented Taranza. "Didn't even know what the bugger looked like."

"Haltmann gave me the order to dispose of the Kirby." Susie added. "But I was already able to discern that he was impeding our progress toward restructuring this planet."

"So...you call turning everything into robots or metal...restructuring." Magolor scolded.

"You have a problem with that, Halcandran?" the robot sneered back.

"Not a problem...just intrigue..."

She rolled her eyes. Typical. she thought.

"So what about you then, smug guy?" poked Zan.

"Since you're being a prick and all!" pushed Flamberge.

"What's with your—"

"Alright! Ladies, I get it! Shush!" Magolor stopped Francisca from adding any further insult to injury. "I was getting to that. Essentially...what happened was...well, it's complicated, you see. But I was told by this grand wizard back home, I needed to get this thing called the 'Master Crown' from Popstar, like to prove my worth and all. I would've easily gotten it, too, but my ship crashed, and to make a long story short, Kirby was there, he agreed to help out, and the crown wasn't as friendly as I was told...so yeah. Guess I fit the mold too, right?"

That story was an exaggeration. He knew fully well what the Master Crown was and the powers it contained without any external help. But these guys weren't there when it happened, so he could afford to embellish a few details to afford himself some moral high ground.

Or at least, he thought he could. Marx squinted his eyes in distrust when hearing this version of the story of Kirby's return to Dream Land. He saw right through Magolor's lies because, unbeknownst to Magolor, Marx had witnessed some of the key events of the whole ordeal. Just so happened he was in the background, not partaking in the action.

He raised his hand to object, but Magolor quickly cut him off by dragging all the attention his way. "But enough about me." the alien said. "What bout you? Who was your boss or, ehm, manipulator of sorts?"

Marx was now somewhat miffed. He knew it was a loaded question, and was starting to feel pressure from the audience starring at him, awaiting a response. "I don't have someone like that!" he said.

"Then what's your story then, Mark?"

"Marx. Get it right!"

"Where do you fit in with Kirby in all this?"

"I—"

"He appears somewhat strained by your question." commented Susie.

"Yeah, let off him!" Francisca pleaded.

"Hush, Fran!" hushed Zan. "I want to hear what he has to say."

"Yeah, so be quiet!" demanded Flamberge.

The situation proved to be too much for the jester to handle, and in the heat of the moment he yelled, "Can everybody just SHUT UP??"

Complete silence. Quite literally all the Star Allies went silent, their attention drawn to the commotion that had unfolded and now exploded. The only sounds anyone could hear was Kirby's soft snoring in the background and Marx's raspy breathing in the foreground.

Marx was shaking, his eyes clenched shut, his arms struggling to hold himself together. Everyone who surrounded him looked shocked; some even genuinely concerned, like Magolor. He wasn't expecting the purple one to react so angrily.

The jester slowly opened his eyes again, where it became apparent that his pupils have shrunken considerably. They were tiny dots on a canvas — totally terrified.

He somehow caught eye contact with Meta Knight, who had been talking with Sword and Blade before Marx unraveled. Unlike everyone else, who appeared scared, shocked, or puzzled, Meta Knight looked...accusing. As if he was saying, You know fully well what you've done.

But that's the thing! He hadn't done anything wrong!

He hadn't said any—!

He hadn't said anything. He had never told them anything about himself the entire time.

Without thinking too much about it, he dashed away, past the tree Kirby was napping beneath, to get away from the crowd. He needed some time to settle his problems by himself.

King Dedede, somewhat startled by the recent events, chose to kill two birds with one stone: A) help the poor kid out by redirecting everyone's attention; and 2) he had been thinking about doing something special, and now was the time to announce it.

"Right...So now that everybody's quieted down, I have an announcement to make." the penguin said. "So given that we have all been brought together on this magnificent journey, and...seeing that we all probably won't be in the same room until some other nasty thing occurs..."

Most everyone nodded in quiet agreement. This had been fun and all, but this gathering likely wasn't going to last too long. Everyone just had too many different things to deal with.

"I have decided!" he raised his voice. "That as a final tribute to our acquaintanceship until then," Before most could notice, Dedede silently 'yes'ed himself, probably for having successfully said such a complex word. "to put together a feast for you all...in the form of...a quicnic!!"

Although the atmosphere was still somewhat unsettling, some of the Star Allies already had their complements to give:

"Hey, that sounds like a great idea!" said Rick.

"Count us in!" Ribbon added.

Their comments certainly helped to clear away the tension, and most everyone was now visibly excited by the prospect.

"Excuse me, Your Majesty," started Bandana Dee, standing beside the monarch. "but what exactly is a 'quicnic'?"

"It's short for 'quick' and 'picnic', you dimwit." he replied.

Ouch.

"S-Sorry, sir—"

"Nip it, Bandee."

Double ouch.

"I've already notified the cooks back at the castle," Dedede called out, "so y'all can either sit tight and help set up or get your things settled. We've got an hour!"

"Wait!" Ribbon said, pointing. "What about Kirby?"

He looked fast asleep, snoring softly and peacefully beneath his tree.

"Let the kid have his rest, will ya?" Dedede responded, though this time not in a demeaning manner.

"Yeah. It means there's more food for the rest of us." commented a Poppy Bro. Several Allies, including Magalor and Bandee, burst out in laughter.

Soon after, most everyone was focused on getting the feast set up and ready. This was going to be quite the excellent formality, a shining symbol of their team's newfound unity. Most had already agreed that, in case of any future catastrophe, they would meet up to organize their defense, whether it be battle plans, administration, or anything else. If anything, all these people together in one place would allow for new connections and opportunities to be made.

In the meantime, though, Marx didn't hear or care to overhear any of that. He was too busy wandering aimlessly through the orchard Kirby had parked himself in front of. Though, with how long he had been wandering through it, it seemed more like a forest than anything.

He was pondering. Pondering and pondering about why he acted the way he did back there. With them. With everyone, to be honest.

Why hadn't he told them anything? Why had he only given his name when the adventure was over? Was he trying to act tough? Mysterious? Confident? What was he trying to accomplish? Maybe he was just trying to get low enough under the radar to not be asked any hard, painful questions but obviously that didn't work.

Was he trying to run away from his past? It certainly didn't feel like it. He felt the same as he always had for years now; alone, empty, and under the impression that he was powerless to do anything in the wonderful world that surrounded him. The problem now was that he knew all too well what happens when he let his thirst for power get the best of him.

Maybe that was why he didn't want to tell them anything. He didn't want them to know that the jester had once been the best friend and coping mechanism of the innocent, lovable, and beloved Kirby of the Stars. That he had deliberately manipulated and seduced the puffball into granting the jester's most selfish of wishes. That he had, only missing by a hair's width, failed to murder the star warrior not just once, but twice. That, after all that, he couldn't get over how he lost the only thing that had given him meaning and a sense of clear direction in his life. That he was sorry.

That he was broken. Perhaps even insane or sadistic.

He had been promised to find a way to move on, a to get over his grief and just move on with himself. But he couldn't. He couldn't move on. He refused to move on. Something inside him couldn't allow it.

He stopped walking as an embarrassing realization swept over him. His face felt like it was burning.

What a way to make things even worse. He was well aware that Kirby had straight up admitted he had feelings for him, during the fateful Sun and Moon Incident. At the time, he didn't really care. Back then, it was just a sign that his plans were already working.

There was no way Kirby would still love him, especially after so long. How tragic: this aspect of their relationship has always been one-sided. Just so happened that the arrow had flipped. Great. Just great.

And besides, now he had even more reasons to want to keep up this façade with everyone else. A Fringeman in love with Kirby. How foolishly ambitious.

He was waiting for it now. Bracing for the inevitable. Preparing for the onslaught from the voice in his head, tempting him to forget about all of these Star Allies and kill them all or something along those lines. It was an accompaniment he had acquired since waking back up on Popstar, not having a clue of how he survived crashing into Nova or how he got back on the planet to begin with.

It was coming...

Uh, any second now.

...Hello?

That was odd. There was no one there.

There was nothing there.

Nobody there taunting him over his self-loathing. Nobody promising the ultimate form of vengeance. There was nothing.

And it felt...liberating. As though a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

He was free! He was free! Free from what? WHO CARES! HE WAS FREE!

In an instant, his sorrow was washed away and the jester was overcome with happiness and such satisfying relief. He was skipping around, feeling the wind beneath his feet, hearing the crushing of foliage on the ground, hugging himself and crying tears Olof joy all the while.

What a day to be alive.

Maybe this was what Kirby meant when he made that promise when the jester had agreed to come along on their quest. Maybe...maybe he just needed to be honest with himself for once in his existence.

He noticed an opening in the distance — a way out of the forest. It didn't matter if he was lost, because he was going to take it regardless.

Beyond, the soil subtly smoothed out and lightened in color into something reminiscent of chalk. He had found himself atop a cliff edge, providing an excellent vista overlooking Orange Ocean to the west. To his right, he could see Castle Dedede and Cappy Town in the distance, along with a bit of Green Greens. Above him, the sky was a vibrant mix of blues and whites and light reds. All and all, the mix of colors made for a picture-esque scene. It was a sight that rightfully belonged in the Land of Dreams.

He sat down right on edge, not really caring all too much about the height. He was too busy taking the view in to pay much attention to that small detail. He remembered that he had once imagined a sight such as this one to be at the end of him and Kirby's grand adventure all those years ago, even after he had fallen victim to his own inadequacies and greed. He imagined the two of them, standing on the edge of the world, triumphant, heads held high. He would say, It's a beautiful sight, isn't it, Kirby? Absolutely breathtaking...

And then Kirby would say, It sure is, poyo. And you earned it.

And then Marx would nervously laugh as he replied, Y-Yeah. Guess I did, didn't I? Knew I had it in me...just needed the will to make use of it.

And then Kirby would say—

"Amazing view, isn't it?"

Marx shrieked, nearly knocking himself forward and down the cliff. Standing up, he turned around to tell this joker to—

Awkward pause.

It was Kirby. How did he—

"You're all alone, poy." he said.

Marx started heating up again. To distract himself, he responded, "Y-Yeah. I don't mind, though. I'm used to it by now..."

"Marx—"

"I don't want you to feel bad about me, okay?" he continued. "I'm not gonna ask if you can take me back under your wing or anything like that. It's fine. I-I'm feeling a lot better now."

"...Are you, though?"

Marx raised an eyebrow. "Of course I am. I've...I've had a long think about everything and...well I think I'm finally ready. T-To go on with my life and...be friends with you again."

"I know, I know, poyo." Kirby said. "You've been a wonderful friend. A-And a great ally, too."

"Yeah. Any other breaking news?" Marx scoffed, breaking the mood. Wow, this felt great! He was already starting to slip in the occasional joke again!

"..." Kirby, by contrast, was struggling somewhat. He was getting nervous about something. The jester raised an eyebrow upon noticing him stumbling. "Poy...M-Marx, I need to tell you—"

"Ahem." He got interrupted by an all too familiar cloaked, masked figure clearing his throat. "Excuse me." Meta Knight said, occasionally shifting his focus between the two boys. "Aren't you two supposed to be, as his liege put it...at the 'quicnic'?" Using air quotes.

Marx awkwardly starred at the knight, his face now bright red. "R-Right. I...I should be getting back now. Wh-Where should I—."

"Just follow the path." Meta Knight said. "Should do you well."

As the jester uncomfortably left to rejoin the others, trying to figure out where this "path" Meta Knight was talking about was, the star warriors were now alone, Meta Knight's cape swishing in the wind.

Kirby tried to follow Marx, but was stopped when the knight quickly uttered, "Not. So. Fast. You and I have some things to...discuss."

The pink puffball clenched his stubs together. Meta Knight was speaking in a rather serious, very stern tone. This wasn't the time to make fun or a fool. "Wh-What about?" he asked, as casually as he could muster.

"Tell me, have you..." Meta Knight approached the pupil. "felt anything off recently?"

"N-Not that I know of, poy." Kirby squeaked.

Meta huffed. That wasn't the right answer.

"I mean, I felt nervous when talking with Marx about things."

"...?" Meta Knight's eyes flashed in puzzlement. That wasn't the answer he was expecting, but at least it was satisfactory enough for him to want to proceed. Kirby sighed in relief. "But why?" he inquired. "You two seemed to be getting along rather well."

"We are... Poy-It's just..." Kirby trailed off.

Meta noted the behavior. "You haven't told anyone." He said.

The puffball nodded.

"About Marx."

He nodded again.

"About what happened."

"I don't want anyone to worry about it."

"For how long, Kirby? For how long are you going to postpone the inevitable?"

"No! Not yet! They can't know now. Not after what we've just finished. Why spoil their happiness with our—their—success?"

"If you don't say anything now, they'll find out when it's too late."

"Then they can find out on their own." With that, he stormed off before disappearing into the forest shortly afterwards.

Meta Knight squinted in distrust behind his mask, his eyes flashing green in thought and suspicion. Kirby was most certainly keeping something under wraps. He knew it hadn't anything to do with affection — he could tell that Kirby wasn't exactly into Marx in that way. Not anymore, at least. Whatever this was, it wasn't anything pleasant. He was guilty of something. But what?

More interestingly, and what he had intended to figure out by interrupting their talk in the first place, was this...eerily familiar...feeling.

It was very weak, but Meta could swear he felt a small twinge — a presence — emanating out of the young star warrior.

The questions now were what it was and, perhaps more importantly, why was doing there.

And without a doubt it was because of that Marx character.

To be continued.