AUTHOR'S NOTE: Welcome to Divided, the sequel to Ultimate Tournament! (Which means if you haven't read that story already, I'd advise you to turn back and do that now so you're not somewhat lost in the plot a bit and the plot twists of Ultimate Tournament aren't spoiled.) Whereas Ultimate Tournament took place in Melee, Divided has upgraded to Brawl, and while Ultimate Tournament focused on mystery and suspense, Divided focuses on action and adventure.

Ike is the main character of this story. There are two things I'd like to point out: First of all, if you're a Super Smash Bros. Brawl fanfic writer, pay special attention to Ike's personality. A LOT of Brawl writers get his personality all messed up (either he's a gruff, insensitive tyrant or he's a cocky, arrogant jerk). Remember, Ike's bluntness comes from ignorance, not arrogance, and while he can't help but state what's on his mind, he's very kind and caring. So, pay attention. The second thing which I think I should point out to prevent some questions later on is that Ike will not have Ragnell for half the story. At the end of Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance, he returned Ragnell to the nation of Begnion because it was one of Begnion's national treasures. Don't worry, Ike will pick it up later in the story and kick butt with it like he always does in the games.

And with that...let's delve into the prologue. It won't be long until all our heroes are Divided.

--

Mornings have ever been the symbol of life and hope. The sun rises, sending rays of light onto the formerly dark world. Sunrises are a beautiful thing, giving hope to the viewer, and even sunsets radiate of awe, promising those watching it that a new day will come.

But for one young man, sunrises hold an entirely different meaning. The sunrise on this particular day means parting. Farewells. Goodbyes to old friends. As much as he was anxious to see his old home, leaving his friends was hard to do, especially after the events that had recently taken place.

The name of this young man was Marth. Marth was sitting on his bed, staring at the sunrise taking place out the window. A few minutes before, he had been packing. Today, after all, was the end of the Second Generation of Super Smash Bros. In other words, all of the fighters, all of the people across the various dimensions, were packing up and leaving until called again for the Third Generation. However, the thought of leaving the Super Smash Bros. Academy bothered Marth, so he had neglected packing until the last second, and even after he had started packing that morning, he found himself distracted and staring out the window.

He really didn't want to leave. He had made a lot of close new friends in a short period of time just a few months ago, and letting them go was hard. He nearly lost all of them in that Ultimate Tournament incident, and a few months after saving them and ensuring the survival of the Super Smash Bros., they were parting. It didn't quite seem to fair to Marth, but he couldn't disagree with Master Hand's reasoning; an encounter with death that close required time to recuperate, and the Second Generation had gone on long enough, anyway....

Marth glanced at his clock. It read 7:09 AM. He was sure he wasn't the only one sitting in bed, staring out the window, but there wasn't much time left to be dawdling. They were supposed to leave around ten o' clock, and Marth wanted time to eat, say goodbye to his friends, and, well, to the building as well. It had nearly been destroyed a few months ago, too. He hopped off his bed, closed the curtains over his window to prevent himself from being distracted again, and bent over his travel case.

There wasn't a whole lot in the case lent to him from Master Hand. There were some clothes, some money he'd earned during his time as a Super Smash Brother, a little food, and some gifts and knick-knacks. He was nearly finished packing; some of his other clothes laid in a pile beside the leather case. These clothes were replicas of the gray tunic, black pants, and blue cape he was wearing now, but their colors were different. Master Hand had told them to keep them as gifts. Marth sighed and plopped them into the case. He hesitated, then removed the sheath from his belt holding Falchion and laid it gently over the clothes. His packing complete, he closed the top and locked it.

Pulling his trunk behind him, he left his room and turned down the hall. There were doors on the left and right walls which led into the rooms of the other fighters. He could hear movement in some of the rooms, from bed springs groaning to trunks shutting to the sleepy thudding into walls they never saw. Marth stepped down the staircase that led to the ground floor and arrived in the foyer.

The room was massive, the kind of room that echoed all over the place when you made any kind of sound. The floor was black stone and echoed the sound of Marth's boots all over the room. Some chairs and tables were arranged neatly around elegant pillars that reached up to the ceiling. On Marth's left was the exit to the outside--the rest of the Linking Dimension--and on his right was the staircase to the basement, where the other fighters' rooms were as well as the Teleporter that led to the various arenas, and, of course, a secret passageway that helped Marth rescue his friends during the Ultimate Tournament.

Link, Samus, and Pikachu were already up and sitting at a table. Marth carted his trunk over to them and sat down in one of the comfy armchairs. "Were you nervous, too?"

"Well, I'm used to getting up early," Link replied, "and Samus had it trained into her from an early age, right?"

Samus nodded. "And, of course, nobody knows why Pikachu's up."

Pikachu said something in the Pokemon language which was apparently supposed to explain, but the other three, not speaking in the same language, couldn't understand him.

"You shouldn't be so nervous," Samus continued. "We'll meet again soon."

"How soon would that be?" Marth asked.

"About a year. But it's not as bad as all that," she added quickly when Marth started to protest. "Master Hand decided that, since not everybody's coming back, we can still keep in touch with one another. He's giving us Communication Screens before we leave."

"Communication Screens? What do those do?"

"Remember the Comms we used?" Marth nodded; it was hard to forget his first experience with wireless technology. "They're like those, but they have screens so you can see the other person. Pretty basic, really."

Link and Marth stared at her. "It's pretty advanced where we come from," Link said.

Over time, more people poured downstairs until finally the whole academy was up and about. Near eight o' clock, Marth joined the others for breakfast.

"Peach and Zelda have been working since early this morning," Link stated as they sat down with their food.

Peach came bustling out of the kitchen with a new tray of food to set on the long counter. Her eyes were red and puffy.

"Incidentally, Peach has also been crying since early this morning," Samus said, rolling her eyes.

"Crying? Why?" Marth asked.

"Everybody's leaving. It's an emotional moment."

Marth instinctively checked the clock on the wall behind Samus. 8:24. One hour and thirty-six minutes before they were supposed to leave. How did time fly by so fast? He wolfed down his biscuit; he wanted to have plenty of spare time after breakfast to spend on exploring the academy one last time.

Roy sat down with the three eating breakfast. On his plate were two biscuits, three strips of bacon, four sausage links, and, of course, a cup of coffee balanced in the middle. Marth could never understand Roy's infatuation with the drink, as he regarded it highly unstable due to its caffeine spikes, but he let Roy drink what he pleased. Marth himself, after all, had discovered the taste of grape soda during a party, and never let it go after that. He would have gotten a glass of it at breakfast, but Samus had told him not to. Something about it "not being a breakfast drink."

"Are you all packed?" Marth asked Roy.

"Yeah. I'll brainstorm and think of what I might be missing when we're close to leaving, but I think I've got everything."

"Are you bringing coffee beans?"

"No, I wasn't serious about that. I'll have another drink someday, though, I promise you."

"Sure you're not going to stay for the Third Generation?" Samus asked. "We'd all love to have you back."

Roy sighed. "I was thinking about it earlier. That's why I didn't get down as early as everyone else. I was up, but I was just thinking. I've had a lot of good times here, but I still think I want to go back. Lycia is my home, after all."

"True," Samus said. "We really should get back to our old lives. Who knows what the GF's got lined up for me now?"

"GF?" Marth repeated.

"Galactic Federation."

"What's a galactic?"

"You're hopeless, Marth, you know that?" Samus sighed, though she was smiling.

That was another thing the Ultimate Tournament had earned him: Samus's friendship. She was normally a serious, sometimes cold person, but Marth discovered that, what do you know, saving the world together can open up friendships in areas you never thought to look.

--

According to the clock on the wall, it was twenty-six minutes until they were supposed to leave. While Marth didn't want to leave, he wished time would somehow speed up and get it over with. The suspense was nearly unbearable.

The wall the clock was on belonged to the library. The library was massive and was located off the foyer. It was also as beautiful as it was big. The floor was the black, polished stone that the foyer's floor was made of, but the ceiling was quite unique. Many large chandeliers hung from it, golden and white with tiny flames perpetually dancing off all of the many candles on it. In the middle of the ceiling was a long, rectangular window which was completely clear and free of dirt. Several rays of sunshine shone through it, lighting up part of the library. Around noon, it was particularly astounding. The floor would have a bright rectangle mirroring the ceiling's, and the library would be bathed in light. It was also interesting at midnight, when the moon would be directly overhead and light up the floor in pale-blue moonlight.

The library was composed of two floors. Both floors were very long and held books on everything. There were guides here and there to help potential readers find what they were looking for. As these books were from all sorts of dimensions, the library was an interesting place to go to learn more about the dimensions of the other fighters. There were tables with small lamps on them to allow the fighters to read from the luxury of the library. As Falco had once put it, "It makes you feel rich even if you're poor as spit."

The library was only Marth's first stop, and he planned to visit each significant room. He briskly left the room, turned right, and headed for the Meeting Room. The room wasn't exactly filled with nostalgia, but he felt it deserved a visit before he left.

The Meeting Room was a wide room that was usually kept in the dark unless a meeting had been called. It was here that Master Hand would call together the fighters to explain something important. Marth remembered his first time in the Meeting Room and his shock--which was shared by most of the Second Generation fighters--at seeing a giant, disembodied glove enter the room. It took awhile to get used to, but eventually, he accepted Master Hand's appearance and didn't feel uneasy going to the meetings. There were some steel chairs all lined up in front of a long, empty, steel room. Master Hand would appear from somewhere in the back, but even as everybody was preparing to leave, nobody knew exactly how he entered.

Marth didn't stay in the Meeting Room long. Next, he was off to the Home Run Stadium. He hurried down the steps leading into the basement and walked straight ahead out the double doors and outside. The weather was a bit cooler than it normally was in the Linking Dimension, but as the dimension didn't have the same natures or law of physics as others--the sun was not an actual sun, and the moon was not an actual moon--there was no summer or winter. Marth hopped onto the platform and looked around. There was grass stretching on as far as the eye could see, and the field went on for almost two miles. Nobody had hit that far--the best made it over 2,000 feet--but there was always hope in the next generation.

Marth's last stop was right beside the Home Run Stadium. He left the fresh-smelling grassy field, went back inside, and went immediately into the Teleporter. The Teleporter was an enclosed machine about fifteen feet by fifteen feet and had numerous buttons on a control panel in the back. Marth hit a combination of these buttons and waited as the Teleporter hummed. He knew he was flying through dimensional energy at an alarming rate, but it certainly didn't feel like it. After a few more moments, the humming stopped, and the doors of the Teleporter opened.

Before him was a group of stands protected by a high-tech barrier. Marth stepped into these stands and looked out through the barrier...into the nothingness. There was nothing there but empty space. The arena Final Destination had once floated there, before it had been sent into an explosion with the other arena, Battlefield. It had all been part of a madman's schemes to destroy all of the fighters at once. Marth had gained a lot of recognition for battling the villain and leading to said villain's demise, but he felt it was undeserved. He always had help from his friends. It was all because of them that they were even leaving to go back home today. Marth placed his hand on the invisible barrier. It would be a long time before he was reminded of the battle on the hurtling arena...the explosion...the falling...and the pain.

He turned around, entered the Teleporter, and left Final Destination. He wouldn't come back for a year, and that suited him fine.

--

"Is everyone here?" Master Hand's deep voiced boomed out.

It was time to leave. Everyone was waiting in front of the Teleporter, luggage in hands.

"So ends the Second Generation," Master Hand continued. "Any and all of you are free to come back for the Third Generation. Just give the word, and you may return. I've given you all Communication Screens. You may use them to talk to the friends you've made here and to sign up for the Third Generation again. I will give you a few minutes to say goodbye to who you will, but then you will leave in groups. All I can say from then is...good luck. I sincerely enjoyed having you all here."

Marth turned to Roy. "We've already said our goodbyes, but...well...goodbye. Again."

"We'll keep in touch. I don't have to be here to keep you company. How do people come up with technology like this, anyway?"

"You shouldn't ask me," Marth said, grinning. Next, he sought out Link. "I enjoyed being one of the Four Swordsmen, Link. It was an honor to be part of that group."

"Well, it was an honor having you. You certainly turned out to be a good addition when you saved everybody. And you'll be a Swordsman next time, right?"

"Definitely." Thirdly, he found Samus. "Thanks, Samus. You know, for all the help you've given me. You've turned out to be a really great friend, even when we live in dimensions as opposite each other as ours."

Samus gave him a lopsided smile. "You're welcome. You were fun to have around, too."

Turning around, he spotted Bowser. "Bowser!" he called. The Koopa King grunted and glanced at him out of the corners of his eyes. "Remember that time we thought you were behind all the kidnappings?"

"Quite vividly, as a matter of fact. No one really forgets being beaten up by a couple of immature little kids, do they?"

"Well, I wanted to say sorry for that one last time. And, well, we'll look forward to meeting again, right?"

"No. But I doubt I'm going to change your mind, so think whatever you want to think."

"Marth!"

Zelda's voice came from behind him. She stopped in front of him, her hair in her eyes. She wiped the brownish-blonde strands away and looked up at him.

"Goodbye, Zelda," Marth said.

"You've done a lot for us, Marth," she said. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you too. But we'll see each other next year, right?"

"Right."

Zelda started forward, outstretching her arms. Marth held his hand out, expecting a handshake, but instead got a hug. Surprised by the action, it took him a few seconds to lower his arms and return the hug. When she stepped away from him, tears were in her eyes.

"Hey, you don't need to cry. We're all going to be back, and we can talk using those communication things Master Hand gave us."

Looking around, he realized Zelda wasn't the only one starting to cry; Peach had tears pouring down her face now. He grinned and faced the Teleporter as Master Hand spoke again.

"Hopefully, you've all said your farewells. Now, I will call out the names of those belonging to the first group and go on down from there. The first group of people leaving includes...Mario, Luigi, Peach, Bowser, and Yoshi."

The five who were called forth stepped up and opened the door to the Teleporter. Mario pressed a few buttons, and the doors began to close. Everybody inside (save for Bowser) waved at the others before the doors shut and they were teleported back to their own dimension.

"The next group," Master Hand continued, "consists of Pikachu, Pichu, Jigglypuff, and Mewtwo."

The four Pokemon entered the Teleporter. Jigglypuff, standing on her tiptoes, pressed the appropriate buttons, and the doors closed once more.

"Link and Zelda."

"Not Young Link?" Link asked.

"His dimensional-traveling requirements are more specific. We are going a ways through time for him."

Link nodded and entered the Teleporter with Zelda at his side. He raised a hand in a gesture of farewell, and the doors closed on him.

"Young Link now may enter."

Still full of energy, the smaller, more youthful version of Link hopped into the machine and disappeared just like the ones before him.

"Marth."

Sighing, Marth dragged his luggage behind him and entered the machine. He first pressed a button to bring up his own dimension, then entered in the exact location of where he wanted to go. It wasn't hard to find; he had been warped from there when he first received the invitation to the Super Smash Bros. He hesitated for a second. Hitting that last button would send him from the academy, and he would not come back for a year. He forced his finger onto the last button, and the doors closed. His last sight of the academy was of his remaining friends waving at him before he went whirring through the dimensions once more.

A year would pass before they met again. But little did anyone suspect that so soon after meeting, they would be parted again....