Heh. I wonder how many people remember this story.

Link: They should remember it; it's the first one that kick-started your career as a fanfiction writer.

Yeah . . . anyway, this is the first of my extensive revision projects: in other words, I'm going to rewrite this story from scratch!

Link: Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, you've not even finished the author arc!

Actually, it's okay. After reading it and the past chapters over, I realized that the author arc seemed to take away from the overall reading experience. Plus, the earlier chapters seemed to be more written on a spur-of-the-moment basis than an actual plotline basis.

Link: Okay . . . I see . . . I think . . .

Look, trust me; I know what I'm doing. Besides, if anything should go wrong I've got a back-up of all the chapters I've ever published on my computer, so I can re-upload it in the worst case scenario.

Link: (shrug) Well. Either way, the guy's got a lot of new ideas planned for the story, so hopefully it'll be much better than the first draft of this story. So, with that out of the way, here's the Prologue AND Chapter 1!

In our world, the Super Smash Bros. tournament merely exists in the world of fiction. You've seen the hype that the game has caused, the friendships that can be formed through a simple game and the many different legacies and competitions that have spawned from this gem that the Nintendo game company has produced. There are those that yearn for it to be reality, and some have tried to recreate the experience by drawing fan art, writing fan fiction and by even dressing up as the characters themselves. Despite this, one truth is painfully evident: the game is merely that, a game, and there is but naught that one can do but continue dreaming.

Or could it be something more than a game . . . ? Might there be a possibility that this well-loved game is, in fact, a reality that game fans would consider a paradise?

The facts are there: it is but a game. However, what the vast majority of the fanbase doesn't know is that the game is actually a reality, where their favorite characters that engage in combat for their fun live, thrive and have lives that are not unlike the lives that we live, my friend. Our culture and our world is portrayed in theirs as a work of fiction, and the denizens of Nintendo themselves wonder if we exist.

It is interesting how both worlds are so alike yet so different in many ways, yes?

This world that I've described – with its illustrious skies, pure turquoise oceans, the endless fields of green – in fact, does exist. On a plane very close to ours, this is the world of Nintendo, where the video game heroes of old born from imagination, creativity and genius live and co-exist with the equally legendary villains of old. One particular land on this lovely planet stands out because it is the setting of this particular tale – a small archipelago that, oddly enough, is similar in shape and climate to the country of Japan in our world – the Smash Islands.

Does it sound too incredible to believe? Trust me; I've been thinking the same thing myself, especially after discovering this world. Of course, you're not interested in that tale, are you? No one ever is. Don't worry, I won't take offense.

This archipelago, roughly the same size of Japan in our world, is home to the very tournament that has become a legend in its own time – the Super Smash Brothers fighting competition. It's a wondrous thing, I can tell you that much – the contest of strength, stamina and fighting skills captivates the attention of the island and the kingdoms around. Each combatant hails from a different land, and each has their own fighting style that they bring to the table, but despite the different cultures the entire tournament can be compared to a beautiful painting, with its almost tasteful blending of fighting, swordplay and elemental control. The matches themselves could be considered as a work of art.

As for the combatants, you don't expect them to sleep in the street, do you? I didn't think so. Their residence is the Smash Mansion, an extravagantly decorated manor on the southernmost point of the Smash Islands. Also the location of the arena where the clashes unfold, this particular mansion and arena is outfitted with the modern amenities and living facilities that are used by the 26 gifted combatants of the Island. Some come for fame, others for strength, and still others for more personal reasons . . . no matter the case, it cannot be disputed that each individual possesses great skill and ability if they are able to participate in this grand festival that showcases their individual fighting ability.

The pride of many kingdoms and of many faraway lands all rest in the hands of these fighters, whom reside within this enormous estate run by the "authorities" (if that's what you want to call them), Master Hand and Crazy Hand. Behind the façade, though, the mansion and the arena is a theatre in which are played a thousand dramas daily.

Whatever fans may create in order to satisfy their desires, ambitions and dreams regarding this glamorous tournament, the stories that shine the brightest are those created by our favorite characters, the ones that we admittedly only play as just because they hold our attention, and in some cases, our affection. Even if they never learn of the existence of our world, their stories will still be very bright, for the tale of their journeys will never disappear, even if the characters are forgotten and fade away with time. No matter what kind of hardships they face, it only increases their glory when they successfully defeat this seemingly insurmountable obstacle. No matter what story that I, a simple fan, can make; the stories that our favorite characters create themselves will shine brighter than any star that sits in our night sky.

I sense that I've piqued your curiosity. That is good; that is what I am supposed to do. There are many a tale that is associated with this motley group of fighters, some good and some bad. I myself am interested in one particular tale, though.

So, what is the subject of this tale, you ask?

The great authority, Master Hand, has deemed it necessary that new fighters come to test their skills to see if they have what it takes. The lives of these Smashers will be impacted by these new fighters' arrival, if even it is ever so subtle that they do so. Some will be old friends and comrades with a cause. Others may be shrouded in darkness, only there to fulfill their own agenda. At any rate, these will forever change the Super Smash Tournament as time continues to roll along uninterrupted . . .

My, my. It seems this story has already begun.

I wonder what sort of tale it is. I'm going to go and take a peek . . .

Do you wish to come along for the ride, my friend?

A young man of 17 years of age walked slowly through the manor, slipping in and out of the shadows cast into the halls by moonlight that poured in through each window. He enjoyed the solitude and the quiet that accompanied wandering the Smash Mansion at night, but the third floor was his favorite place to wander because of the contrast that the moonlight made. Stretching, the young man meandered over to the third floor elevator and entered inside as it took him to the mansion's roof.

Link let out a tired sigh as he stepped out onto the windswept rooftop, glancing up into the night sky. Despite the fact that it was rather dark out, he usually came out at this time of the early morning in order to get in some uninterrupted practice done. It had fallen into a routine that the Hylian performed every other morning, when use of the training room and the matches he were involved in didn't suffice. Unsheathing the training sword he had received from Master Hand, he let out a fierce yell as he swung in a wide arc around him before bringing the sword straight down onto the granite floor.

He continued his sword fighting in a similar manner, this time throwing his boomerang at a stationary pillar. It chipped the stone object and came back to Link before three quick sword jabs in succession sent the column toppling over and scattering around the roof while some of the dust blew away into the wind. The young man sighed and shielded his clear turquoise eyes from the wind as he pulled out a small bottle of water and quaffed it.

The Hylian briefly wondered how long he had been doing this. Sure, he had taken up swordplay when he was younger, but it was merely supposed to be a hobby. Then he remembered how his entire life had changed the day he learned of his destiny. It had distressed him to no end, for he was left wondering where his normal life had gone. He had lost much and had many scars from his travels as he went about Hyrule, liberating it from the deep darkness that had seeped into the land and was slowly killing it in a poisonous chokehold. Either way, he still managed to banish this great evil, but at what cost . . . ?

Link briefly looked around the rooftop after a series of jabs and sword swings, ceasing his train of thought and he collapsed onto the roof and staring up at the vast multitude of stars above him. Despite all that he had been through, Link felt more at ease when it was just he and nature only whenever he was training. The calm winds circling him, the smell of leaves floating up to his nose . . . he found it therapeutic physically and emotionally, especially on such a demanding venture like the Super Smash Tournament. After a few moments of staring at the sky, Link noticed a strip of dark orange to his left. He frowned; was it already sunrise? Craning his head to get a better look, he groaned as the orange strip became higher and brighter in color. There wasn't much he could do about preventing the sunrise (and even if he could, he left his ocarina at home in Hyrule), so he sighed in a resigned tone and went back to the rooftop elevator.

As he meandered the hallways back to his room, Link was surprised to see a thin stream of light trickling from under the door. Was his roommate already awake? He decided to see for himself as he opened to door of the room he shared with his fellow contender. As he looked inside, he nodded to himself in confirmation as he found himself looking at the girl he was rooming with. Long, platinum-blonde hair and beautiful azure eyes . . . it still amazed him time and again how such beauty could exist in this world.

"Good morning, Link."

"Hey, Zelda." He greeted the blonde-haired beauty. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Don't worry, you didn't." Zelda replied. "Were you training again?" Link merely nodded in response as he guzzled another bottle of water that he stored in his satchel.

"Need to do what I can to keep up my strength." He cringed slightly as his stomach began to churn. "Speaking of which, I could use something to eat right now."

The young princess merely let out a melodic laugh. "I guess some things never change, do they? Well, I'll come with you to get some breakfast; could you please wait outside while I get changed?"

Link merely shrugged and stepped outside. It wasn't like he was fool enough to actually try to sneak a look at Zelda while she was changing . . . though he wouldn't have minded the view. He merely chuckled to himself as he stepped over towards the foyer.

The next few hours were spent as the various combatants awoke and got ready for the new day that had been given to them. Some were able to get through this routine without incident, while others weren't able to accomplish it without a barrage of shouting and noise from their roommates. As Link and Zelda descended the extravagantly decorated stairwell to head to the mansion's dining room, they passed by several of those who had deemed in necessary to cause this much noise in the morning.

"GIVE ME BACK MY HAIRBRUSH!" a well-muscled man yelled from the balcony above them.

"The hell do you need a hairbrush for, Falcon?! Pi-chu!" the culprit, a small yellow electric Pokèmon, shouted in response. "You wear a helmet, for god's sake! Who's going to care if your hair is messy?"

"I WOULD CARE, PICHU!" Captain Falcon yelled. Glaring a dagger at Pichu, he hopped over the balcony railing and landed on the stairs next to the electric Pokèmon. "Now, I'll be taking back the brush, thank you." With a swift movement, he took back the dark blue hairbrush before Pichu could even react at Falcon's sudden jump.

Pichu blinked several times before he responded with a loud scream as he jumped away from the maddened Falcon. "Dude! Get away from me!" He squeaked, sending several electric sparks at the F-Zero racer, which he simply dodged. The electric Pokèmon pouted and sulked for a few minutes before getting bored and leaving the foyer. Falcon just sighed.

"Damn rat. Always causing trouble for everyone else . . ." the F-Zero racer muttered under his breath. Link, however, overheard this comment and expressed his disapproval.

"Oh, stop your whining. It's obvious he's just trying to have fun."

"Does he have to have fun stealing MY things?" Falcon nearly yelled. He pinched the bridge of his nose in order to relieve some stress, but it didn't help it as much as he liked. "You know what, forget it. I'm locking my stuff up after this . . ." Link and Zelda heard Falcon let out a frustrated sigh before hearing the door to his room close after he disappeared from the balcony.

"Well, that was random." Zelda said after a few moments.

"Tell me about it . . ." Link answered in agreement.

It was only a few minutes after that incident that the pair made their way into the Smash Mansion's dining area. A large, opulently decorated room with many tables greeted the two as they went over to collect their food. Oddly enough, this particular morning most of the large hall was empty save for a few of the more villainous Smashers like Ganondorf and Mewtwo, as well as Pichu, Ness and Pikachu. Though Link and Zelda were curious about why this was the case, it didn't take long for them to learn the answer as they stopped in front of the lunch window. Bowser was hunched over the large stove inside the kitchen, staring down a black steel pot of something that he had put on the burner. Both Hylians frowned and stared at the Koopa King for what seemed like an eternity before Zelda asked Bowser what he was doing in the kitchen.

"The kitchen crew's on vacation." He grumbled. "And not one of the others wanted the job of cooking for everyone else." The disgruntled Koopa gestured to the large pot that was set on the stove before he explained, "Eventually, Ganondorf, Mewtwo and I drew straws on who would cook, and that's how I ended up here." While he was talking, Bowser began fishing for the ladle that kept dodging his large bulky hand. "So you can either put up with my cooking until the crew returns or get some fast food like everyone else has. Not unless the two of you have hidden skills?" Bowser added hopefully.

Zelda sighed. "I can't cook that much, unfortunately."

"Sorry, can't help you there." Link responded. "I'm not that good at cooking, either."

"Pity." Bowser frowned, still trying to catch the stubborn ladle. "I suppose you'd better get some breakfast before it gets cold."

Link shrugged, and reached into the kitchen to grab two plates for himself and Zelda. "I thought you said the breakfast was getting cold . . . it smells to me more like it's getting burned."

The Koopa King stared at the Hylian in exasperation. "Cold, burned, there's not much of a difference there, is it? Ah!" Bowser snagged the ladle at last and lifted the pot off of the stove before carrying it over to the counter in front of Link and Zelda. "How much do you two want?"

"How much is there?" Zelda asked, eyeing the steel pot dubiously.

"There's more than enough for the . . . eight of us." Bowser nodded after counting the Smashers who were adventurous enough to partake of his cooking. "I got a little carried away when I was adding ingredients, I think. Here, take some. I'm afraid there isn't any bread. We'll just have to do without until tomorrow."

After that, Bowser called the other five Smashers over to serve them their breakfast. Making their way over to a table, there wasn't much that the Hylians could do but stare and frown at the lumpy grayish blob on their plate. Zelda shrugged at Link, and then took a spoonful. While having to hide from Ganondorf after his many times of taking over the castle, she ate worse-looking food in her life. The worst any of that had given her was a stomachache. The 'meal' that Bowser had tried to prepare tasted burned.

Fortunately, the Koopa King did not seem to expect the princess to give him her opinion of his cooking. As the two began to silently consume their breakfast blobs, Pichu, Ness and Pikachu joined them at the table. "Er, Link? Thanks for keeping Falcon from throttling me earlier." Pichu said, nodding at Link. He merely smiled and nodded.

A few more moments of silence passed before Ness spoke up. "So . . . have either of you seen the bulletin board yet?"

Zelda shook her head. "Do tell, Ness. Something happen?"

"Well, I've not actually seen the announcement myself; Pikachu has." The taller of the two electric Pokèmon nodded as he took another spoonful of the breakfast blob.

"Pika . . . according to the bulletin, we're supposed to be having a conference of some sort sometime this afternoon." Pikachu nodded. "I don't know why Master Hand wants to see us all, but there's been a rumor going around . . . that we're going to have a few new additions to our fighter roster."

Link placed his spoon onto the table and looked at Pikachu, obviously interested in this new development. "Go on . . ."

"Sadly, that's all I know at this point, Pika pi." Pikachu replied. He shrugged as he let another bite of Bowser's breakfast blob dance around in his mouth before swallowing it. "I couldn't pull any more information out of anyone else, but what I do know is that some of the new fighters will be friends and acquaintances of ours. Note that I said 'some'." He let out a long sigh. "The majority of them, though, are here on request. I'm willing to bet that those are the ones we need to worry about."

"Pichu . . . what is Master Hand thinking?" Pichu inquired as he prodded the blob on his plate. "On one hand, this means new friends, but on the other hand . . ."

"On the other hand, we're going to have a lot of trouble on our hands." Zelda groaned, bringing a hand to her forehead. Really, as if Ganondorf wasn't enough of a problem (she shot a glance over at him while he was conversing with Mewtwo and Bowser), they wanted to bring a boatload of people here? This was going to be an interesting tournament if Master Hand got his way; that much could be said.

"Great . . ." Link added dryly. "I guess there's no way to confirm this until the meeting, though?" He frowned and glanced over at Pikachu, who nodded.

"I suppose that there's nothing else we can do but wait for the meeting. Not unless you want to try and get some info out of Master Hand, chu?" Pichu added curiously. The others sighed and turned back to their breakfasts. Burned and blobby or not, it was safer than trying to ask Master Hand about anything, much less about the news he had to announce.

It was a few hours after breakfast that Pikachu's insider information revealed itself to be the truth. Most of the Smashers were either eating lunch or relaxing in the multifunctional lounge in the center of the mansion when the intercom system sprung to life with a series of rings.

"May I have your attention, please? May I have your attention, please." Master Hand's voice blared over the chatters and the various noises the Smashers made. After more or less bickering and shushing noises, the disembodied hand continued with his announcement. "I would like for all of you to report to the—what are you doing, Crazy?! I'm trying to give an announcement, you fool!"

"OooOooOooH!" Crazy Hand's voice replaced Master Hand's as the insane appendage began to take over the Mansion's airwaves. "I am Crazy Hand, and welcome to my talk show! Today, you get to hear me, every—" Thumps, Crazy's Hand pained screaming and shuffling could be heard while the Smashers regarded the intercom with odd glances.

"Sorry about that. As I was saying—ow! You insufferable--!"

"IT'S NO FAIR! I wanna talk to the people too!" The Smashers were forced to cover their ears as heavy feedback squealed through the system.

"The hell is going on in there?" a humanoid bird asked. His eyebrows had shot up and he was currently giving the intercom a rather suspicious look. "Yo, Fox! What's up with this nutjob?"

"Don't worry about it, Falco." His partner, Fox McCloud, responded. "I was here last year, and I can tell you that's he's always been like that. Don't let it worry you."

"Easy for you to say." Falco Lombardi responded with a frown. He didn't know what this guy could do to someone, but he let out a sigh and pushed the thoughts about the fool aside as the announcement continued.

"Right. Anyway, I would like for you all to meet me in the Mansion's dining area in thirty minutes. I've got an announcement to make." Master Hand finished. Before the intercom could sound off, more thumps were heard as something in the background was smashed to pieces. "Crazy, you fool! That was my favorite chair! Do you realize how much that cost?!"

"But I want the voice thingy! I WANT IT NOW!"

". . . okay, fine. Five minutes." More shuffling could be heard as the Smashers heard Crazy control the intercom.

"OooOooH. Hello, Smash Mansion! Erm, what do I say?"

"How about you shut the damn thing off so we can leave already?" Falco yelled, though he knew it was useless since the stupid thing couldn't hear him anyway. Fox snickered lightly.

"I know! I will sing! 'Don'tcha wish your girlfriend was hot like me . . .?'" A few of the Smashers snickered lightly at this, while others just stared at the intercom in exasperation. Falco had to suppress an urge to shoot the thing to pieces.

"Okay, that's enough . . . now give me the mic back." Master Hand asked. "Now. I said, give me the mic!"

"Nuuuuuu! I want to talk some more!"

"Why, you disobedient little—!" More shouting and breaking of various things could be heard until there was a loud SMASH on the intercom. A loud continuous beeping rang through the Mansion, and all the Smashers save Mr. Game & Watch covered their ears and let out a colorful string of curses until the sound torture finally ended a few minutes later. Fox and Falco both regarded the intercom with an odd stare before the vulpine finally spoke.

"So! I guess we should be leaving now."

"Tch. Can't leave fast enough for my liking . . ." Falco grumbled as he followed Fox to the dining area.

Upon arrival, Fox and Falco seated themselves at the table closest to Link and the others while waiting for Master Hand to arrive. Fox greeted the group, while Falco just gave them a slight nod of acknowledgement. The Pokèmon and Ness waved back. Slowly, the other Smashers arrived, seating themselves at the various tables.

"I can safely assume that by the fact that you're sitting in front of us, Bowser's cooking didn't kill you?" Falco asked Link while the veteran fighters were coming, though by the way the bird stated instead of asked they could tell he wasn't all that surprised.

"Not really." Link frowned. "It's not that bad if you ignore the color of it and its taste."

"Great . . ." Falco replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes. At that point, Master Hand floated through the large double doors, dragging a hysterical Crazy Hand behind him. Most of the Smashers did nothing but stare stupidly while Crazy shouted various accusations of abuse. Falco shook his head; he almost felt sorry for the large hand.

"Right, settle down!" Master Hand yelled at the Smashers. When the room quieted down to his satisfaction, Master Hand made a noise that sounded like he was clearing his throat. "I can safely assume that not too many of you know the purpose of this meeting. We are assembled here to consult about a decision between the SSBM Management and the Nintendo Board of Advisors. In said decision, we have thought long and hard, considering the pros and cons. In a larger sense, one must think about the consequences we took to bring you all here, to this sacred spot where we have gathered fighters from many regions…"

"For chrissakes . . ." Falco muttered to himself. "Is that hand going to get to the point?! We're wasting our time here!" However, Master Hand overheard him.

"A valid point, Falco. I'm sorry about rambling on like an old man." Though Master Hand was right about that, he said it in a matter that sounded a bit sarcastic. The entire room burst out in laughter, while Falco did his best to become as inconspicuous as possible. "Therefore, I will just come out with it: We've decided to have some new contenders join our ranks."

That caused nearly all the laughter in the room to cease. Most, if not all, were stunned by this development and soon after began to shower the hand with many different questions.

"Who are they?"

"Do we know them?"

"Where do they come from?"

"Are they friendly?"

"Should we make room for them?"

"Why now?! We've already got enough people here as is!"

"Can I go to the bathroom now?"

"Can we get something to eat?"

"QUIET!" All interrogations ceased upon Master Hand's forceful reply to these questions. "Now, the Smashers are a mix of your old friends and newcomers. As such, I expect you to treat them all with the same respect and dignity you all were given when you first arrived. Is that understood?" The assembly nodded. "Okay, now do you have any questions?"

Several hands were raised. Master Hand carefully avoided the ones he knew would result in snickers and jeering and went for one of the more serious fighters. "Yes, Mario?"

"I'm-a just wondering." The fighter named Mario was a mustached man clad in a red shirt, well-traveled overalls and the well-known scarlet hat with the letter 'M' embroidered on the front. "Do-a you have any idea when they are-a supposed to arrive?"

"Unfortunately, your guess is as good as mine on that." Master Hand made a motion as if he were nodding. "We've gotten applications from various people, and we have also sent letters to people who we believe would make a welcome addition to our ranks. However, they didn't set a date for when they would arrive. As a result, even we don't know when they will come."

"I-a see . . ." Mario trailed off, as if he were expecting that answer.

"Is that all?" Master Hand asked impatiently. "Because if that is, I've got a matter to attend to." With that, Master Hand turned and headed for the door, still dragging Crazy Hand, who was amazingly quiet the whole time. "You're going to pay for that mike you broke, you little bastard . . ."

"No, I'll be good! I'LL BE GOOD!!!" The last the Smashers heard of the both of them was a scream of pain from Crazy Hand as the doors closed behind them.

After a few tense moments of uncomfortable silence, the room exploded in conversations as most of them began to confer with each other, trying to guess their new comrades' identities. Link whirled around to another table to face two of the other swordsmen in the house. "So, Marth? Roy? Any guesses?"

Marth, the blue-haired swordsman of the two, merely shrugged. "I'm still trying to take all this in . . ."

Roy, the hot-blooded redhead, gave a vastly different answer from his calm, collected counterpart. "Well, there is a friend of mine that might be interested in this . . . I hope she shows up."

Link's eyebrow rose. "'She?'"

"Yeah. I had to leave her behind in Lycia when I got the invite . . . I hope she's fine." A worried crease formed upon Roy's forehead. "I wonder what she's doing now . . ."

"Ah . . . choo!" A girl of fourteen years of age sniffled slightly and blew her nose after she sneezed. "Was someone talking about me behind my back?" She glanced around the boat as her cobalt eyes took in the sight of the port the ship grew closer to.

"So this is the Smash Island?" the girl asked to no one in particular as she leaned over the railing to look at the seas below her. The girl sighed as she let strands of her soft cerulean hair dance in the breeze. "Aah, that feels good."

Clad in a peach-colored dress with a red blouse on top, a red magician's cloak and her orange traveling boots, she sighed as the ship stopped in front of the docks. As the captain announced their arrival on the Island, the girl grabbed a large knapsack and a leather-bound book which held various incantations as well as a few notes about various lands she had been to. Truly, it was an exciting experience for her, for this was the first she had traveled to a world beyond her Lycia.

However, there was still a certain ache in her heart as she opened the book. It landed on a certain page, where there was a well-done drawing of her and her friend, who had left after their world had gone back to its peaceful ways. It had eaten away at her well-being, worrying for him each day he was gone. Was he safe? Was he alive, even?

'Even if he is alive, did he . . . forget about me? Roy . . .' The girl hugged the drawing close to her heart and stayed that way for a few moments before she closed it and followed the drove of knights, magicians, Pokèmon and various Toads off of the ship and up to the Gold Coin Wharf, the main port of the Smash Island's capital city. She stared in awe at the tall buildings and the many . . . erm, citizens around her. The girl almost went to shop at one of the wharf's many stores before she remembered the reason why she came. With that in mind, she looked up to the sky, a fierce determination in her eyes.

'All the sightings and evidence have pointed me here, to this Island . . . Roy, if you're here, please be safe. I will find you soon!'

And that ends the first chapter. Hopefully it's a lot more polished than my first draft. Anyway, you know the drill: please read and review!

Gamer21