Smoke billowed from the remnants of Shadowing Keep, masking the sun and the sky above. What remained of the once great castle was now covered in shadow as the great battleship Halbard floated ominously overhead. Shingles were blown off roof tops, trees stripped of their leaves, and bushes were torn from the ground by their roots as howling downdraft from the mighty vessel pushed around a hurricane of air below its metallic hull. Various plant life that was sucked up by the outer strands of wind burst into white hot flames as the ion engine's heat devoured them whole. The remaining civilians in the keep shielded their eyes from the blinding glow of the engines as they stared up in awe as the mighty ship began to descend down upon their shattered lives. More flying particles of ash began to swirl around in the already pollutant heavy atmosphere as the gargantuan ship neared the ground, all wooden objects nearby bursting into flames from the heat. Men, Women, and children ran for their lives as the heat intensified, heading to nearby pools of water which had come to a slight simmer already...

Below the roar of the ships propulsion system, was a silence so fine tune, one could almost hear a leaf hit the ground. Several woodland animals collapsed as their flesh was melted off their bodies from the flames that had enveloped them, their eyes and various other organs melting like ice under the immense heat. The engines began to die down and the ship's hull touched the ground, the inferno of heat dying down slowly. The air snapped and popped as the colder air replaced the positively boiling temperatures around it. Minutes passed as the innards of the metal machine whirred to a stop, the hidden silence revealing itself for the first time. A small metallic bridge began to poke out of the bottom of the ship, angled towards the now charred ground below. A door began to slide open just above the point where the bridge had originated, bathing the ground below in an almost holy light. The villagers of Shadowing shielded there eyes yet again, what was this thing? As the bridge finally touched the ground, another hiss could be heard as the bridge's internal mechanisms re-pressurized. A pair of dark boots appeared in the now fully open doorway which was no more than four feet wide. The figure took another step, his dark form coming into focus slightly. The what was at first a very foreboding figure, turned out to be no more than three feet tall with an almost perfectly circular body. Sleek black armor shone brilliantly from the glowing light from the ship, reflecting off of a silver faceplate that dominated the creatures head. A rhythm of metallic clanks could be heard as the tiny warrior strode down the extended platform, a deep royal purple cape billowing behind him in the breeze.

The clanking stopped as he touched ground, the chard leaves crumbling easily under the iron boot. The crowed backed away at the sight of a large scabbard hanging snugly from his left hip, the golden hilt of an unknown weapon shimmering dangerously in the offset light. He sniffed the air, a dim sense of satisfaction filling his glowing yellow eyes, the only visible facial feature on his body, at the stench of death and decay wafting in from the seared remains of the village. Minutes passed as the blackened warrior looked from face to face, examining each curious onlooker staring down upon him. Some were filled with honest curiosity, it wasn't every day you saw one of his species. Others were filled with fear, awe, and even hatred. A small girl, no older than four suddenly tumbled out of the crowed, the shouts of a woman, possibly her mother, yelling above the now feint hum of the Halbard's idling engines. All eyes shifted towards the young human girl, to the knight, then back to the girl.

Not even the wind dared to speak over the veil of silence that had smothered out all audible sounds. The girl stumbled forwards again, apparently having trouble walking. The knight retracted in the blink of an eye, stepping backwards with his left leg and grasping the hilt of his weapon in one fluid movement. The crowd gasped at the motion as a dozen sets of hands engulfed the child and drew her back into fold. "What do you want?" cried the mother of the child, pointing an accusing finger at the battle-ready warrior. The knight relinquished his grip on the weapon, resuming his usual stance. The miniscule creature stood as still as a mountain, his uninterested silence standing equally still. The conglomeration of townsfolk drew closer, their sense of unity and combined power giving them an almost invulnerable aura. "What do you want?" shouted another woman, different from the one before, her voice high-pitched and shaking vibrantly out of either fear or pride. The tension now engulfing the situation grew thicker as the mysterious warrior's silence remained intact, his mouth sealed tighter than a king's tomb. Again, the group's now steady grip further increased as their tiny circle drew ever tighter, a mere foot separated them from the hallowed blade dangling menacingly at the secretive creature's waist. "Who are you?" hollered an elderly man angrily, fed up with this individual's stubbornness

"Metaknight" said the knight in a dark yet muffled voice, the very air around his lips crackling with a sense of deception, "And I have come for the one known as Kirby. My king wishes to... speak with him." Murmurs erupted from the congregation of peasants like springtime flowers, conversations blossoming amongst the disarray. Judging by the veil of suspicion that hung over the area, these simpletons knew nothing of his arch-nemesis, the rapturous pink ball of fluff known as Kirby. He hated that creature and despised being of the same race as he. Everything about the seemingly heroic individual made him sick and had driven Metaknight to experimenting on his own body, the thought of sharing the same race as Kirby causing him to mutate his own body. His once placid pink skin tone was now an obscured shade of exaggeratedly dark blue which blended seamlessly with the night. A once round and pudgy face had been slightly contorted, his eyes turning to near slits while his lips had morphed to the likeness of dried raisins. To hide his ghastly appearance, a mask was crafted from the metal of a Swordies armor, the faceplate wrought from silver within. Upon completion, a V shaped slit was chiseled out in the center where his corrupted yellow eyes glowed sinisterly behind the sheet of metal.

Hands that could once meticulously reconstruct another kirby's skull were now shrunken and grotesque, incapable of physical contact without causing some sort of grievous injury. In response, a set of steel gauntlets, adorned in the crest of King Dedede, were forged out of respect for the great leader. Dedede was too a foe of Kirby, making him an obvious ally that would propel him to become one of the most feared creatures on Pop-Star. Lastly, a set of magnificent wings had sprouted from his shoulder blades, their bat like appearance striking fear in the humblest of individuals. Their leathery appearance and water like finesse had allowed him to hide this strange deformity by twisting them behind his back into the form of a cape which billowed out behind him as any other fabric would. There had been only a few times in which he had used these protrusions for flight and was still quite inexperienced in the matter. This drastic transformation had robbed him of the ability to fly using his natural weight, the metallic plates that now covered his body rendering this feat all but impossible...

Time hadn't been kind to his already misshapen body, scars and various battle wounds littering small bits of exposed flesh. Many were healed, however others remained sore and swollen, a dim reminder of the hash battles from days long past. One particularly large one protruding from the top of his mask had been dealt to him by his timeless foe and stung whenever he removed his mask, fueling his rage for the despiseable ball of filth. Many a time had he slain fellow kinsmen, their corpses littering the ground like so many fallen leaves, but one continued to allude his blade, tickling his pride and sending his mind further down the path of insanity. The time he had spent on Popstar had been rough for the knightly silhouette, having done countless deeds of nefarious intentions for his commander, Kind DeDeDe. The pudgy creature adorned in an exquisite red robe had treated him like any other pawn, but the skilled warrior cared not. The King hated the kirbys as much as he, a myriad of skulls adorning his mantelpiece. A two ton hammer christened with the blood of all who stood in his way hung from his massive waist in a glorious display of power and nerve. These thoughts returned to him now, staring up at creatures nearly two to three times his size, looking down upon him as though he were some strange creature.

All those in his galaxy had seen a kirby at one point or another, and there were none alive who knew not the name of Metaknight. Raids had been conducted on every planet the king could locate, a multitude of troops singlehandedly obliterating any resistance the local inhabitants erected. All appeared as though it would last when their armies had marched unto the gates of Popstar, his homeworld seemingly crushed beneath the might of the king. However, fate dealt a cruel and unexpected blow to the would-be dictator, the fluff ball by no other name than Kirby rising up to quell the invasion unaided. Time and time again had the darkened soldier looked back upon those events, despising his king for the aura of arrogance that had surrounded him when Metaknight had been so rapturously assured of their impending triumph. Now, with the innermost stars reclaimed, Metaknight knew he would be sent abroad to conquer new worlds for his king; a new foothold for his growing empire. Although the knight protested, he had been dispatched to a small, blue, celestial orb that hovered three orbitals away from its glowing sun. It was larger than most worlds, and had an immense population to boot. It was an ideal location, it's luscious recourses in such abundance, it seemed as though the planet had been just begging to be discovered.

Now, days later, stood Metaknight, surrounded by a dumbfounded populous with nothing better to do than gawk at his unusual appearance. These creatures made him sick, their raged clothes and horrendous stench leaving him none too pleased with his current situation. They appeared physically weak, their bodes leaving deep impressions on the skin surrounding them as though they hadn't eaten in weeks. This might have been true thought Metaknight after a moment, after all, this was a new world to him. He knew nothing of their society or the rules they abided by. If anything terrible should happened, it wouldn't take long for the situation to sour. This was a new galaxy afterall, a place far out of the eye and ears of his king...