I was born from darkness. And in that darkness, my darkness, he would fall. Under that cold exterior, he had colder secrets beneath, writhing in the shadows, waiting to be awakened. And awakened it did. That hidden darkness's intensity could not escape the reflection of the Great Mirror, and was given a life and form. I was created. Born from the shadow of his heart, I, the one Meta Knight, was brought forth into the shining Mirror World. He gave me no notice. He didn't even give any thought to the life of his own mirror counterpart. Being the same of one was a horrific thing. Just considered of part of one individual, not his own. But, unlike him, I had a sharper mind that was not doused by the sickening substance that was considered "light." Oh, he and the other beings of the Outside believed he was the "original." But they were ignorant of the fact that his darkness was always meant to be, always meant to be the true one. My other mirror kin, who are considered copies of the beings of the Outside, were not willing to accept that they were meant to be the only ones. Their minds were too tainted and altered by that light. I thought I was on my own to lead my crusade of originality.
But there was one who truly understood my ambitions. He calmly listened about my plight and understood my truth. He then gave me the chance to be one of my own, without little to no payment in return. He gave me the chance to finally be rid of my abhorrent mimic! To have his blood on my sword…it would've been delicious. His death was my dream. To see him breathe his last. My plans were working perfectly. The one who understood me agreed on my idea of the end of the race of the impersonators, it was all falling into place. Fatuous chivalry and ludicrous heroism lured my impersonator into the land of mirrors, and ultimately, my trap. His attacks against me were weak, and I easily trapped the fool into his glass prison. When the end was near, I would've let his dying body lie and watch as his own land was destroyed. All was going perfectly; I even had that infant hero, Kirby, under check. Splitting him into four entities, he and his copies were confused and weakened. They would've never been able to stop my plans. But to my horror I learned that he and his split likenesses were actually finding the shards of my copy's confinement! Wretches they are, complete fools, idiots! How dare they pathetically try to stop the inevitable, the truth! The world's perfection! My perfection!
But it won't be stopped. The darkness will not stop. Perfection is going to be reality. Once they collect all the pieces of my futile duplicate's cell, I'll be waiting. They'll all be at my mercy, and mercy I will not give. All those who stand in my way will be diminished. Perfection, my dear Meta Knight, will… be…mine.
And so the peek of the mind of the great masked warrior's shadow ends. His constant pursuit of perfection caused his own undoing; for he was ignorant of the fact that one person who possessed life and will could be very different. He also did no understand that without light, there would be no darkness.
He was never seen again.
He was presumably defeated by the legendary warrior of the stars during the great conflict of the Great Mirror. The original, the one who he considered an inferior copy, was freed from his prison, as well as his internal bitterness. Dreamland and the Mirror World finally obtained their lost peace.
The End