Prologue

All official characters, locations, etc. (sans third-party material) are property of Nintendo. All original concepts (except for the Smash Mansion, which has been applied to numerous stories) belong to me.

WARNING: This story contains graphic violence (including gore), blood, profanity, dark themes, and some sexual overtones that will become more apparent later. Read at your own risk.

It has been said that there exists a group…

A group created out of diverse characters from equally diverse worlds…

From the red-capped plumber from a world filled with Mushrooms and colorful creatures…

To the famous Electric-type Pokémon that has captured the hearts of millions in its world…

Some were swordsmen…

Some were hand-to-hand fighters…

Some fought with futuristic weapons by their side…

Still, others fought with pure magic…

Initially, many of them struggled to work with each other…

But when their worlds almost collapsed at the hands of a powerful entity, they decided to set aside differences and combine their powers into one force…

They were, and still are, a force to be reckoned with…

They will defend their lands until death…

They are… the Smashers…

He could not believe it.

He had strongly desired to take a flight outside to escape from this unending boredom, to reunite with his friends from the golden days; he had even hoped to meet his love interest during the reunion. Or maybe, just maybe….

He wanted to fly just for the hell of it.

And he had just been denied that very chance.

The weather outside was too severe to even allow flights; a blizzard had brought about not only poor visibility, which would be lethal when it came down to piloting a high-speed vehicle, but also ferocious winds. Such furious air currents scattered the snow throughout the terrain like a shotgun shell spreading its pellets on the desired target. Whiter and whiter, the colors of the terrain gradually became one. The vibrant colors of the previous season were gone. Frost slowly crawled over most of the window; it, combined with the storm itself, was enough to obstruct most of what could be seen from the building's interior.

All this had left frustration in the mind of an ace pilot. He was best known for his sharp skills when it came down to piloting high-efficiency fighters known as Arwings, but he had also gained notoriety for his arrogant personality and astoundingly frequent use of sarcasm. He was a member of a commando unit-for hire known only as Star Fox. A blue-feathered avian, he was recognizable by his jacket as well as the equipment that he had with him. Such equipment included a laser blaster and a device capable of reflecting projectiles, and his attire was completed by the presence of black-and-gray boots, red trousers, and a holster to house his main weapon.

His name was Falco Lombardi.

Falco paced around the room in frustration, hoping that something interesting would pop up. Since the defeat of the powerful being called Tabuu five years ago, alongside the entirety of the Subspace Army, things had truly quieted down. The World of Trophies was now in a state of peace, with almost no shred of conflict to be found. Even the more villainous fighters were more docile; since Tabuu's defeat, they had not attempted to plot anything truly dastardly against the heroes. Few of the Smashers had even gotten the time to realize this, but the now-distant events of the Subspace Emissary had shattered whatever conflict certain Smashers might have had with each other and created a great force to combat a common foe. It was indeed proof that the villains were at least capable of showing some good intentions, as they agreed, albeit reluctantly, to aid the heroes in the final struggle against the ruler of Subspace.

During the very disaster that almost consumed the worlds, Falco hoped that he would finally relax once Tabuu was defeated. However, now that the adventure was long gone, this new peace had, rather ironically, brought something other than relaxation.

It brought near-endless boredom.

"Well, this is just great," Falco whispered under his breath, still pacing around the room. "It's freakin' snowing outside and I can't even take a flight to visit my pals… Someone really needs to do me a favor and pull off something to keep this boredom from getting to me. I don't care what it is, just… anything!" The tone of his voice was marked with tones of frustration and even desperation. It would, to any ordinary bystander, seem that his desire for adventure had become so strong that he was willing to allow a shred of danger to approach to the Smash Mansion, all for the sake of killing the boredom that currently surrounded him.

His constant wandering eventually guided him away from the comfort of his room. He was feeling no different out within the halls than he was while inside his room; no matter where he was at, the boredom was a stalking shadow that would simply not lose its sight on him. Feeling hungry, he slouched his way toward the mansion's main kitchen to grab himself a snack. As he attempted to do so, however, he noticed something unusual outside of the mansion.

"…?" Falco twisted towards one of the hallway's few windows. Due to the heavy frost buildup and the snow storm itself, it was very difficult for the avian pilot to properly observe just what was near the mansion. He pressed himself against the window for a better view. Eventually, after about a minute or so, he could get a clear glance of the exterior.

The sight he received was a strikingly bizarre one; a figure was standing several meters away from the mansion walls. It was very still, almost as if it was being frozen in place by the chilling climate. Falco could not get much detail on this mysterious person; all he could notice was that this person was donning a light-colored cloak that almost seemed to blend in with the snow. This garment obstructed the face, among other things, and completely overshadowed the person's identity. Falco could not even figure out the person's gender.

"Who is that guy?" he muttered to himself. Before he could step away from the window to inform someone, however, the figure gradually began to fade away until it was one with the snow…

"Huh, it's probably just my imagination…" He continued towards the kitchen, now treating the figure's appearance as a one-time event. He, in his mind, was probably interpreting a mundane object in the environment as something greater. Upon arriving at the kitchen, the pheasant approached the refrigerator and gently yanked the door open. As he peered inward, he was faced with a decision.

"What should I get…" were the words that he spewed from his mouth as he was searching for something that might satisfy him for now. Near the bottom, a group of vegetables and fruits took up whatever space was available and filled it with a colorful variety, from apples to plums. Further up, there was a set of leftover cupcakes from Kirby's birthday party nearly two weeks ago, and it was still good in a surprising sense. This set of sweet treats was bordered by a pack of sodas from the same party. On the door, there were items that could be used to make a sandwich, including cheese and mustard. The rest of the food items were either too large for comfortable consumption or, for one reason or another, detested by Falco himself. With the variety considered, a minute soared by before he finally decided on what he was going to eat.

"I think I'll settle for the apple," he quietly puffed as he grabbed an apple and closed the door. Within a matter of seconds, he found himself gnawing on the rose-colored fruit as he continued to pace rather aimlessly around the mansion. A half-hour later, he eventually traveled down the mansion's main stairway and into the main hall. The area itself was decorated to possess astonishing beauty; a sparkling chandelier hanged over the room above everything else, complete with golden coloring, while the room itself was filled with unique designs that resembled what came to be included in Victorian era-style homes. In three of the cardinal directions, there was a portrait corresponding to an integral part of the Smash Brothers. In the east was a painting of Master Hand, who served as the organization's leader; though much of his earlier background remained a mystery, he still commanded great respect from the Smashers. The western portrait depicted Crazy Hand, who, unlike his blood relative, was mentally unstable and known for playing unusual pranks on those around him. The third portrait, placed in the north, was of all the Smashers, current and former. The painted sunset behind the fighters themselves amplified how majestic they appeared, and even those with villainous intent looked like true heroes. Architecturally, the room featured different pathways that seemed to branch into numerous areas within the mansion. As he continued to chew, Falco peered out from one of the windows, once more reminded of the frustration of being hopelessly grounded due to severe weather conditions. He soon finished his apple and disposed of it into a nearby waste bin. He was about to keep pacing around the mansion, but fate suddenly froze him in place as he noticed something outside the front yard. It was not long before he realized what was out there.

It was the same person that he witnessed from the hallways… still unmoving and obscured in terms of identity. Despite having a clearer view from where he was at, Falco still could not figure out just who that person was.

"What the hell…?" he gasped silently.

Later, during the evening, the Smashers gathered around the large table in the dining area's lower floor for dinner. Tonight's course was as follows: hot chicken soup served with bread and salad. Various Waddle Dees and Toads emerged from the kitchen doors to satisfy the appetites of the hungry fighters. Warm steam emerged from the soups and gave comfort to the chilled fighters, something that the mansion's air conditioning system somehow failed to provide. Once all the food was delivered, the Smashers began to consume their dinner. Most, like the valiant Mario, ate their food at a normal rate, but others, like the extremely hungry Bowser, simply chowed down in a vicious manner, showing little to no care for proper dinner etiquette. While he was eating his dinner, Falco stared at the surrounding lands from one of the windows in the area. At that point, he was reminded of that event…

That event involving the figure outside of the mansion…

The figure whose identity and intentions were unknown…

He tried to shake it off, but there was no visible way of doing so. For whatever reason, it felt too… important to not inform the others, especially since the figure had appeared on more than one occasion.

"Guys," he said, "I don't know if this is important, but there was something that I noticed outside of the mansion earlier today. "

"What was it?" Ike, the leader of the Greil Mercenaries, asked. The blue-haired mercenary was recognizable by his ranger-class uniform, with tan trousers, darkened boots and shirt, complete with an extra blue layer underneath the latter, and red scarf. Gauntlets were on both of his arms, and his hair was held up by a green, bandanna-like accessory. Another property worth noting was his blessed blade of Ragnell, which was a powerful weapon capable of vanquishing even the strongest of foes. It was meant to be held with both hands, but the fearless hero was known to wield it with just one.

"There was a person standing outside of the mansion wearing a very bright cloak; the cloak was just as bright as the snow outside, no joke. He, or she, I don't know the dude's gender, was just standing still…"

"Had the person ever desired to enter the mansion?" Meta Knight, a mysterious warrior from the picturesque Dream Land, squeaked. His body was reminiscent to Kirby's, but he otherwise possessed a unique appearance. His uniform was decorated with a cape that had the ability to transform into wings and a mask that kept his face under complete obscurity. Besides that, he was also the wielder of the golden blade dubbed Galaxia.

"You got me, buddy. I have no idea why that person was out there or who he even was. Later, while I snacking on an apple, I noticed that person once more from the main hall. For some reason, I don't think that the guy's appearance is a coincidence."

Murmurs were heard within the room as the Smashers conversed with each other about the mysterious figure. No one knew who this figure was or what exactly he or she was even doing so close to the mansion, but one thing was for certain; something unusual was going on. The question was: what was that person doing outside the mansion's boundaries?

"It seems very strange," Master Hand, floating at one end of the table, spoke up, "That someone would be waiting outside our mansion for unknown purposes. We'll need to keep an eye out for this person. We're not sure about his or her intentions, but just in case he or she wants all of us dead, be on your best guard."

The Smashers all nodded in agreement and continued to eat. They were aware that if they were to let their guards down, an unsuspecting evil could sneak in and throw every single one of the mansion's inhabitants into a perilous situation…

It was midnight now; everyone was asleep, preparing for a peaceful tomorrow. Most of the lighting was inactive, shrouding the mansion in darkness. It was at that point that the snow had ceased to pour down, coinciding with the departure of the gloomy clouds from above. The moon soon bathed the mansion and the surrounding areas with its soft, comforting light. Aurorae stretched across the moonlit sky like soft, magical ribbons, adding on to the beauty of the winter night. It was a peaceful sight to behold; nothing seemed unusual.

Or so one would think.

At an unprecedented time, a bright light suddenly sparked near the mansion. While initially unseen, the light was eventually noticed by someone from inside the mansion. As he woke up, he rubbed his eyes to clear up his vision. This man was recognizable by his blue hair, along with a cape that had the color of the oceans on it. On his hip, a sheath was fixed in place and inside of it was a far-reaching blade known as the Falchion, believed by many to have the power to slay even the mightiest of dragons. The man was once the prince of the distant land known as Altea, and he was best recognized for saving the kingdom on multiple occasions. As of several years ago, however, his former title was replaced with a far greater one; after the fall of the corrupted king called Hardin, he was elevated to the status of Archanean king, ultimately become the ruler of an entire continent.

His name was Marth Lowell.

As soon his vision cleared up completely, Marth peered out from his window. Since the snow storm was no longer present, it was easier for him to observe the exterior, and this was despite a good amount of frost still being present on the cold window. The almost-heavenly light complicated things; it caused Marth to squint his eyes and nearly forced him to turn away outright from its source. His eyes proved to accommodate quickly, however, and gradually retained their focus on the otherworldly event taking place. While keeping his focus firm, Marth caught a glimpse of a person placed just underneath the light's source. Witnessing this and the overall event as something odd and possibly dangerous, he gathered his equipment and barged out of his room, ignoring the possibility of disturbing someone else in the mansion. He felt himself rushing through the hallways…

Past the bedrooms…

Past Master Hand's personal office…

Into the main hall…

Down the staircase…

All this time, his heart was beating very quickly; if this event truly was a sign of danger, then his inability to act could spell doom for the Smashers.

He soon exited the mansion via the main doorway and sprinted towards the light. As he approached, the intensity of that very light increased, hampering his vision. Of course, this failed to prevent him from reaching the source itself. It was at that point that he discovered what he was searching for: a person with bright robes that obstructed many features, including most of the face. Almost immediately, he was reminded of what Falco had revealed to the Smashers at dinner, resulting in an instant revelation.

"This is… This is the person that Falco told me about," Marth exclaimed under his breath. He reached for the hilt of his blade for possible self-defense, but before he could fully prepare himself, the light was suddenly extinguished. Simultaneously, the mysterious figure instantly collapsed into the snow, which came off as an unpleasant sign to the blue-haired king. He proceeded to carry the figure into the mansion, and as he did so, the other Smashers emerged from the main doors, having noticed the light that was previously present.

"Marth," the green, overall-clad plumber known as Luigi called, catching a glimpse of the Archanean king from a distance, "What's-a going on?" He was almost identical to his brother in regards to appearance, though Luigi himself was slightly taller and possessed a smoother mustache. Although he was not wearing it at the current moment, he could also be recognized by a green hat branded with the first letter of his name.

"This person here was producing a strange light before he collapsed," Marth responded. "We may need to help him."

"Wait a minute," the famous Hylian hero named Link interjected, "How can you be sure that he is not a threat trying to lead us into a trap?" The blond-haired Link was dressed with a green tunic, which was a typical form of attire in Hyrule, as well as a green cap that complimented the rest of his uniform. He could also be recognized by his numerous weapons, such as his Master Sword, though they were currently not in his possession.

"I do not have the answer to that, but we will find out sooner or later."

"We'll see about that." The tone in Link's voice struck some of the fighters as skeptical, as if he refused to trust the unexpected visitor. Minutes later, after escaping the freezing temperatures, the Smashers gathered around in the infirmary, unsure of what was going on with the unknown figure. As Marth laid that person down, the hood came loose and instant realization dawned upon every single Smasher present.

"That's not a man…" Fox McCloud, Falco's commanding officer, gasped. "It's a lady!" His comment was merely a fragment of the physical characteristics that applied to the beautiful maiden lying in front of the fighters. Her hair was very close to the color of an angel's wings, and the sheer beauty of it was complimented by her soft and very smooth skin, especially in the facial area. Additionally, the hair itself was curled into numerous locks that appeared to blend in with each other. Owing to her unconscious state, the woman's eyelids were closed and thus concealed the colored irises within. Nevertheless, she could be best described by the Smashers as someone who seemed divine in appearance and possibly benevolent in intentions. The fact that she was sleeping only amplified the peacefulness of her appearance. The Smashers continued to gawk at her until Mario, now clothed in medical garments, appeared to check for anything abnormal about her. As a doctor, which came to be one of his many hobbies, it was his job to ensure that all injuries and bodily abnormalities were treated and accounted for. After what seemed like a third of an hour, he was finished with his examination.

"Hmm," he slowly puffed, "She doesn't appear to-a have any injury of-a any sort, which is a good-a thing. No bruises, no blood-a loss, no broken bones, nothing. However, for whatever reason, she's-a nearly drained of all energy."

"What do you think we should do?" Captain Falcon, a renowned F-Zero pilot, asked in a low tone. A reddish helmet, complete with a falcon-shaped crest, blocked out most of his face, which seemed to match up with his utterly mysterious past. He was clothed in a navy-blue uniform marked with a unique emblem on the back, which consisted of a falcon and his machine's name: Blue Falcon. Golden boots and gloves contrasted with the darker aspects of his suit, resulting in a more colorful appearance that most of the Smashers could not match. A scarf hanged loose from his neck and often remained in close contact with the metal pad on his right shoulder. On his right hip was a holster that housed a handgun, although the weapon had yet to be utilized in Smash battles.

"The best that-a we can do is to-a let her rest."

"For how long-"

Before Falcon could finish his sentence, an interrupting moan was heard from the examination table. The fighters turned their attention to the maiden, who was slowly waking up. As her eyelids opened, her eyes were revealed to have the color of healthy grass blades, another feature that bolstered her overall appearance. All Smashers, including Mario, stepped away from the table several times to give her some space. When the maiden's vision began to clear up, she slowly leaned upwards into a sitting position. She then raised her head to notice the faces of all thirty-six Smashers, none of them being any familiar to her. It was at that point that she squeaked in a gentle yet surprised tone:

"Where am I…?"

And that's the prologue! What are your thoughts on the story so far? Please R&R. More to come soon!