There is a place where unlimited power resides; a place where omnipotence borders the realm of intangible thought of cosmic energy and the surreal splendor of luminescent sentient liquid. A place where a child's dreams becomes an entire planet of pleasure; and a madman's simplest, most random whispers of an passing though become as real and deadly a room with knives hanging by a sing hair from the ceiling, and as confined as he is in his own mind. This place is held together by the simplest and most fundamental energies of the cosmic multi-verse and is the convergence point of all reality. This place is The World Beyond.
No one knows exactly what The World Beyond is, or how it came to be. As far as The World About was concerned, it was only a myth passed down from the earliest generations about why the sun rose, why many solid objects floated, and why any of The World About's inhabitants even existed. The only witness anyone had was the madman who ascended Axis Mountain and came down two months later raving about a "giant gloved hand that laughed like thunder rolled and had crazy magical powers." Of course no one believed him-he was addled before ascending the mountain.
Besides, the myth of World Beyond WAS just a myth after all. It was a fairy tale, a fable, a bedtime story; something you tell your children before they drift off to sleep if you want them to grow up to become a Smasher. A story like the great "Ten Nindos" who stopped Sage Dgenesis from implanting his "Seed-E of Evil" in the minds of the populous. Or the fable of "The Con-Soul Wars" where the mighty Meez crushed the menacing Y-Cube Sphere and the space threat of Sonny's Psiii.
But these stories were lost to mind in the excitement of the next Smash Tournament that was to be held in one week. Field Town was alive with excitement, as it was the town where the Party Ball Ceremony was held and the first match took place. Posters were all over town, and these were the cause of the most excitement. The posters read:
"LET'S GET READY TO SMASH!!!
Smashers from around the universe are coming to YOU! This year's Smash Tournament will be held Friday the 12th at 1:00 P.M. in Battlefield Stadium. Several NEWCOMERS and one special announcement will be presented directly after the Opening Ceremonies! Buy your tickets today! Be there…or be SMASHED!"
The single greatest event in the universe was about to take place again this year, and there would be even more new faces than last year's tournament. What could possibly ruin the splendor that was the coming tourney?
"Oh…ugh, oooh, oh! He's not gonna like this! I just hope the doesn't shoot the messenger!"
In the darkness of a realm that sat parallel the peak of Destiny Mountain and Terminal-Zone was a land known as Final Destination. Here resided a fortress that held literally hundreds of billions of doors. This place was a mixture of dead time matter and cosmic dimensional collisions. There resided only one supreme entity in Final Destination; and in the dark, a lone white disembodied figure raced to deliver a message to this supreme being.
A white glove, about the size of a person's head, attached to nothing raced into the front (and only) doors of Final Fortress. It ascended miles and miles of stairs at rocket speed and within a few seconds. It's form was clenched around a single piece of rolled scroll parchment. After about twelve minutes of endless stairs, it hit a single corridor that was straight for as far as the eye could see. The glove accelerated, and covered a near inconceivable amount of space within a few seconds. It stopped, instantly, in front of an enormous blue-gray door that was guarded by two much larger versions of itself on either side of the door.
"And just where do you think you're going, pipsqueak?" the glove on the left asked in an intimidating and gruff voice.
"You don't think you can just Waltz on through this door into THERE, do ya?!" the glove on the right demanded. Both gloves laughed in mocking style, shaking violently.
"Oh, come on, Clench and Crunch! I'm already late delivering this! I don't want to get into any MORE trouble! Just let me in!" the little glove pleaded.
"'Just let me in, wah wah wah!'" jeered Clench, the glove on the left. "Sorry, shrimp, no can do.
"Yeah, Little Hand. We aren't allowed to let CHILDREN wander around aimlessly in this spooky ol' castle, OooooOOoooooh!" Crunch mocked. Both gloves shook even more violently.
"FINE!" yelled Little Hand. "When I tell HIM that YOU TWO heavy-handed creeps delayed me from delivering a message from Lord Imagination, you both will be sorry!"
The corridor instantly grew quiet again-more quiet than before, in fact. Both the guard gloves composed themselves rigidly, and began to quiver unsteadily.
"P-p-please, enter. We are s-s-sorry f-for delaying y-y-you. Please have mercy" both hands asked in unison and bowed as the big doors slowly creaked open. Before the doors had barely a crack in between them, Little Hand had whizzed into the large and dark inner chamber.
The doors swung shut surprisingly fast behind him, and he jumped. Soon after the door tumblers locked into place, a soft iridescence filled the room, and a loud voice cracked the silence like thunder. "Who seeks the presence of Master Hand?"
Little Hand shook violently, and his grip on the parchment loosened a bit. "I do, your Gloviness, sir."
"What do you want?" boomed Master Hand in a slightly dignified and irritated voice. Little Hand did not respond, so Master Hand yelled "SPEAK UP!"
"I bring a message to you from Lord Imagination, my lord." Master Hand paused for a bit, then turned his palm right side up. Little Hand dropped the parchment, and flew back to the door.
The door once again slowly creaked open, and before sufficient room was made, Little Hand struggled out. The doors snapped hut and locked behind him again.
Master Hand was alone now. He left the parchment scroll roll off his palm and onto the floor. With the sweep of his index finer, the scroll unrolled itself. The parchment was totally blank except for a small, shiny flat object stuck to it. Master Hand examined it more closely.
The small object was a sticker. It was a sticker of a bright red crayon that left a small red squiggly trail behind it. Master Hand mulled on this for a while, but to no avail; there was something important about the sticker he knew he should remember, but what?
And then it dawned upon him. Master Hand realized that the sticker itself was of no value-it was what the sticker represented. It was a warning sign from Lord Imagination that The World Beyond was currently at war. It was a sign that everything in existence was about to come to an end. It was a sign that Dreeme and Awakin had escaped The Lockbox.