All right. This first chapter is really long, but it includes the prologue and Day 1. There will most likely be seven chapters, one for each day, maybe even an epilogue, but I'm not sure yet. This is at a T-rating for violence, mild language (which has a chance of getting worse as it flows along), some graphicness, and the infamous character death. However, it could come to the point at which I'll have to move it to M. I predict Day 3, depending on how bad it may get. Don't get your hopes up too high, that's all I can say.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Super Smash Bros. series or anything associated with it. Just this plotline and some other random, scattered ideas.

ON A SIDE NOTE: Master Hand is human here (as in most of my stories).

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Predator

Day I

Dear Smasher,

How long has it been? A year? Two years? It is hard to keep track anymore. What ever is in the case of time, I have planned a little recall party. A reminisce, if you will. A chance to band together once again not on tournament terms, but to see your fellow competitors in an everyday circumstance. This will be much different, yes? A letter has been sent to each of you, so everyone is invited. I would like to see your faces again, and seeing how I have a week of free time, I thought some of you might be in need of some sort of vacation soon. So here is your chance! We will meet together at the Headquarters, where it has always stood, and you will bring what is necessary for a week's stay starting this Thursday. Your rooms are being prepared. Hope to see you soon,

Master Hand

"Thursday is tomorrow," said Marth as he folded up the letter and neatly placed it back in the envelope. He looked at the front of the envelope. The stamp was a rectangular version of the Smash Brothers insignia. "We barely have any time to reply."

"The letter has no RSVP," replied Roy, leaning against his horse.

"Blight is on the other side of the universe," the prince went on, "we have no way of getting there."

"Samus called maybe fifteen minutes before I set out to find you. Wondering if we were going, and if so she would pick us up on the way tomorrow."

Roy didn't bother complaining that it had been extremely hard to find Marth out in the fields and that the fifteen minutes had not been put to waste lingering in the Pherae castle, but out in the world searching eagerly for companionship. He also didn't wear himself out trying to hide the eagerness he still felt even after the letter had been read again. He would never be able to change Marth's wandering ways, nor the way they both felt about the Super Smash Brothers.

It was an organization of the likes they had never seen: so many different races and species pulled together in complete cooperation, working as one body. As each member had his or her own techniques and abilities, no one could ever get sick of each other--because although their own homes were wonderful and exciting, there were few times (or none at all) when you could reach out and feel the silky fur of a pokemon or be intimidated by a giant turtle. And if there was no work to be done, Master Hand, the one to bring everyone in, would organize a skills tournament. It was a way to burn off energy, a way to bond with your friends and enemies.

And now, this letter. It had been...what? Two years. A long time to be bored in such a slowly progressing world as this. Roy couldn't understand why Marth would be so hesitant.

But when Roy questioned this, Marth merely shrugged and said, "Something just doesn't seem right in this."

"Like what?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. He usually calls us by our first name. Not so formal like this is." He handed back the letter. "I didn't get one."

Roy turned his horse back towards the kingdom and prepared to mount. "Maybe Sheeda's been reading your post," he said slyly. "Maybe she's decided she just won't let you go again." He hopped on the horse and heard a sigh behind him, turned and regarded Marth again. "You need a ride? I don't know how you can walk so far and do virtually nothing every single day."

"It's not nothing."

"I'm sure. I guess you don't need a ride, then. How about you come to me tomorrow?"

"And watch as the entire kingdom goes into a senseless wave of panic when a bright orange ship lands in the square."

"Fine, then we'll meet back here again."

"Right."

"Noon-ish."

"Right."

Roy rode off into the east. Marth leaned against a tree and watched him go. Something was definitely not right about that letter; he would wait and see until he saw Master again.

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"Guys! Message from some weird guy who wants you at his house tomorrow!"

Fox sighed and turned in his chair to face Slippy at the door. How many people know, with you shouting all over the ship like that? he wanted to ask, but held his tongue. Really there were only two others on the Great Fox, and ROB surely wouldn't care. "What weird guy?" he asked instead. He was used to being called on obscure jobs just to have the famous Fox McCloud enter a fan's house. Usually he was ready to decline the favor before it was done being requested.

"Err...Mr. Hand," Slippy replied, seeming to be unsure of the title.

His ears pricked. "Hand?" Master Hand?

Slippy responded by handing over the letter. Then, as he turned to leave, he pulled the envelope out of his pocket and gave it up sheepishly. "Sorry...it was a privacy thing, you know..."

Fox nodded absently and scanned the letter quickly. A reunion between the Smashers. This was something that had never occurred to him. Master wasn't the kind of person to host subtle things like little get-togethers. Then again, the Smashers weren't little. It didn't matter. Too much was going on in Corneria and everything around it. But perhaps this could be beneficial.

"Slip," he said as the frog paused in the doorway, "get Falco in here. Now."

He sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He had been waiting for a call from Peppy, the last confirmation of total damage expenses in the Lylat system. The last attack had been devastating. Most likely Fox would be sent on a reconnaissance mission, making sure there were no lurkers on any planet in the galaxy waiting to spring another hit on them. Then there would probably be some kind of conference establishing nothing but to put fear into the remainder of the stable Cornerians by drawing new tactics and keeping every woman's husband mobilized for war. He didn't want to be here for the expected riot, but there was nothing he could do. Peppy trusted him as team leader, and he would not let him down anymore than he could.

Moments later, Falco slumped in. He had his beak set in an unapproachable way, and seemed especially miffed at Fox for having sent Slippy for him.

"Yeah?" he asked shortly.

"I got a letter from Master Hand."

Falco raised his eyebrows a little. "And?"

"It sounds like a friendly reunion."

"You've got to be kidding me."

Fox handed him the letter and watched his expression carefully. Falco, for whatever reason, had been particularly unbearable since their last mission. A lot had gone on then. Supposedly, it might have been something to do with Katt's reappearance in his life and everyone else's. Whatever it was, though, it made him very agitated and curt, and Fox and Slippy were beyond ignoring that anymore.

When Falco looked up at the letter, he said, "So? As nice as this little getaway sounds, we have work to do here."

Fox waved that away. "They need me here, not you. You can go. You should."

"I can't just leave you guys here, doing all the work."

"You need a vacation, Falco. Take your Arwing. Fly to Blight and relax a little." He tried not to sound so commanding this time.

The bird softened slightly, his shoulders fell from their natural-seeming tensed up position. "You sure about this?"

"Yes. Take it or leave it, I don't care." Fox smiled. "I've seen them all more than you have, anyway. They'll understand."

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Master Hand sat and stared at the piece of paper in front of him, growing doubtful and wondering just what the years alone had done to his sanity. Crazy had left not two months after the tournament with no explanation but "I need some alone time" and the Wire Frames had followed him to who knows where in the galaxy. For once his desk was empty, with nothing to sign, no files to sort. It was one of the least busy years in his life, and he hated it. But this was something new. A single document on the oak surface staring up at him innocently. His named was on it, in his handwriting.

After a moment, he looked up at Link, who was standing in front of the desk looking curious. Master took the paper in his hands, read it over again. Then he held it up to the light, as if there were some transparent markings that would prove something was odd. But, at first glance, and if you knew Master but weren't him, you would know that he had written it.

"But I didn't write this," said Master slowly. "If I did, then I was drugged or delirious. Your beds aren't made."

"It's a forgery then?" asked Link half-heartedly.

Master studied him a moment. The disappointment burned him. "Everyone received this letter. Maybe not everyone will come, but I do still have your beds. They're, like I said, just not made. It is a forgery, or at least I didn't write it, but I have nothing against your staying here." In fact, a little company would be something to occupy him with. "I told everyone before that this was their home away from home--far away--but still home. My doors are always open."

"You're serious? Even though you didn't have time to prepare for possibly twenty-five people in your house?"

He laughed humorlessly. "I hardly think everyone received this or else is free enough to come. You've packed for a week, and you shall stay for a week."

Link smiled slightly. Then he left Master in his office and stopped smiling halfway down the hallway. The look on Master's face had said it all. It was his writing style, his normal signature, and his seal. Who could have been so precise to fool over twenty people? Of course, that wasn't confirmed yet--only he, Zelda, Pikachu, Ness, Mr. Game & Watch and Kirby were there. And Ganondorf. But Link wasn't nearly as pleased to see him as the others.

He walked through the Headquarters and then outside into the grass. Even the grass was a little disfigured. That was why the planet was called Blight; although it had similar features to Plit, Kanto, or Hyrule, those features were oddly shaped or only appeared in that phase on Blight. The individual blades of grass where not sharp, but the tips were rounded perfectly.

Pikachu was sitting on the steps, watching the sky. Zelda would be in the kitchen preparing lunch for those who hadn't eaten, as would Kirby most likely. Ness appeared around the side of the building and pointed far off into the clouds.

"Samus," he said. Indeed, a large round saucer-like ship swung through the clouds in the direction of the hangar. The hangar was a separate building on the highest part of the hill that was adjoined to the stadium. The arena itself was off at the center of Blight's capital. Pikachu zipped past his feet towards the ship.

Not much had changed of those he'd seen so far, but Link noticed that Ness was more mature and definitely more sober. Pikachu, on the other hand, seemed to have become more energized. Maybe it was just anxiety though. Ganondorf might have changed, and if he did it wasn't much of a difference. Link doubted that Kirby would ever change, and having spent time with Zelda in Hyrule, he wouldn't be able to notice much change in her as anyone else.

Samus walked out of the hangar into the fresh spring air, and caused the others watching to get a big surprise--she wasn't wearing her power suit as usual. Until they adjusted, she looked quite bare now that they could get a clear look at her face. She wasn't the only one to come out of the hangar, though. Alongside her was Captain Falcon, in his helmet and suit as usual. No one had seen him in anything different, never had he removed his sacred racer's helmet. And then Roy and Marth stepped into the field. Roy, who seemed to have grown a couple inches, was for once dressed casually, though he still carried his sword sheathed at his belt. In his arms was Pikachu, quite content at the extra attention. Marth was in his tunic and had his sword as was typical, but he had left the breast plate and rest of his armor at home. He was still as thin and pale as Link remembered.

He wondered, vaguely, how much they would think he had changed. The five of them came to greet Link and Ness halfway down the hill, and they turned and walked together to the Headquarters.

"How have things been?" asked Roy. "How many are here yet?"

"Not many," replied Ness. "Us seven and four in the building."

There was an awkward pause. Two whole years, thought Link in wonder. "The letter was a fake," he said after a moment of hesitation. "We'll still stay here," he added quickly when they gave him a surprised look. "For the week. Master's decision. He doesn't seem to mind at all."

Over the crest of the hill as they walked, they could see Bowser's silhouette against the building and Ganondorf who seemed to be giving him a high-five. Link frowned. It was bad enough that one had been here; the two villains together assured some sort of trouble during this stay. As they gathered into the house, they noticed Luigi, wearing some sort of jersey, hanging a pink jacket on the lobby's rack.

"Your coat, signorina?" he asked without looking back a second time.

Samus threw her jacket to him.

He hung it up, but said, "I was talking to Roy."

Roy playfully punched Luigi in the arm and pulled the coat over his eyes. The pink coat plainly was a sign that Peach was also present. She was in the kitchen greeting Zelda probably. When they gathered into the living room, Master walked in and shook hands with each of them separately. He was tense, but managed to smile at them. When Master left for his office again, Marth pushed his hair out of his eyes and raised an eyebrow at Roy.

"Okay, okay," said Roy, "so you were right about the letter."

"Now I'd just like to know who wrote it."

Captain Falcon, who had been standing near by, spoke up: "I don't know how anyone else could have written it. It may have been typed up in format, but it was exactly the same writing style as Master's. It sure fooled all of us."

Marth counted heads. "Thirteen of us here, counting those in the kitchen."

As if on cue, Peach and Zelda walked out of the room with Kirby, who jumped up to the sofa with Ness and Pikachu. Zelda still had the fair, pale face that they remembered, though her attitude had become much more wise and mature. She still wore her royal gown, and no one could picture her in anything different. Peach, on the other hand, had become visibly stronger but her constant need to be delicate and sweet greatly contrasted this. Her skin glowed and she seemed more physically stable. The two of them came over.

"You need a haircut," giggled Peach.

"Yeah, I guess I've let it go too long..." admitted Marth, blowing another blue strand from his face.

"You've grown some muscle," observed Link with a slight smile. "What's happened over two years?"

She beamed at the thought of someone noticing. Then she pulled the elastic of her pants down far enough to expose her shorts. "Mario has business cleaning up a disturbance with Yoshi on an island far from home, so Luigi and I have been practicing for the upcoming soccer tournament in our spare time. We were caught off guard, though, when this invitation came so we just threw clothes on over our jerseys and hopped a pipe without telling anybody..."

"So no Mario or Yoshi?"

"No. I left a note, but I don't think they'll find it before next week."

"I made lunch, if anyone here hasn't eaten yet," said Zelda after a pause. "There's some hamsteak and salad and fresh fruit."

"You're a goddess, Zelda," said Roy, heading for the kitchen to stock up.

"Oh, well..." She blushed. "I didn't work all that hard..."

As soon as everyone had settled into the living room with a plate of food (or in Kirby's case, two plates), Luigi walked in with Falco by his side. Seeing the two of them together, it was apparent that both had lost a considerable amount of weight. Luigi had probably lost it through consistent sports tournaments, but Falco's feathers were dull and unhealthy-looking.

"Well, Marth, looks like you've got competition in the race for anorexia," snickered Ganondorf.

"That's not funny Ganon," scolded Zelda.

Falco just raised his eyebrows. "Where is everybody?"

"Busy or dead," said Bowser in a bored tone, "hard to tell."

"Food's in the kitchen," said Ness with his mouth full.

"Don't mind if I do," said Luigi, having not eaten since seven in the morning, but was stopped abruptly by Master as he blocked the door.

"You two sit down. I need to speak with all of you." They sat reluctantly. Master walked to the head of the room and looked at everyone with a sigh. "For those of you who don't know yet, the letter you have received not long ago was a forgery. However convincing it is, I did not write it, nor did I sign it, consent to it, or see it before it was sent. Although I wasn't quite prepared for this arrival, you will be staying for the week if you choose. That is, if you don't mind making you own beds."

Everyone cheered.

"Crazy is not here, nor are the Frames, and I will be in my office most of the time working on finding out who sent for all of you. That is all."

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Those are the characters, and they all stick no matter what anyone says. I did want to add Fox, though, so he's in there briefly. I was going to add Mewtwo in all of his awesomeness, but he would just screw around with the plot. I want to keep Ness in line, so I omitted the Ice Climbers and again Young Link or Dr. Mario would just kill the story.

See that button down there? Push it, see what it does.