The sun sets upon the planet, the sky darkening to a blood red. In a shadowy yet verdant valley, thriving with plants and animals, a lone figure in a spacesuit sits hidden among some tree branches. He is concealed by artificial leafs, and a set of binoculars sit in his hands. Through them he observes a red onion-like organism on the forest floor below.

Inside his bubble-like helmet he smiles and lowers the instrument. Lifting instead a small computer pad, the white-haired man begins to type.

"Journal Entry Day 17

After half a month on PNF-404 I can now begin my research in earnest. Since arriving from Koppai I have sought the 'Pikmin' as described by the crewmen of the S. S. Drake to the Science Bureau.

It struck me from their report that the Pikmin were curiously obedient to the crew. They lacked direction and often could not find their way to their home 'onions' on their own. How did they survive prior to the crew's arrival? Who directed their actions?

Also of curiosity is how the Pikmin are born. Their life cycle begins with emerging as a seedling from the Onion and being planted in the ground. The crew of the S. S. Drake then uprooted the Pikmin. However, there were no recorded instances of the Pikmin emerging from their planted state on their own initiative. Can Pikmin uproot each other? Can they uproot themselves? Surely they must be able to, or else how would an Onion with no active Pikmin possibly be able to rebuild its population?

I have sought an Onion to observe, and came across this red one today. I happened to witness its Pikmin population in action, laying siege to a colony of Bulborbs. They prevailed, though their numbers were decimated, and the remaining Pikmin began to carry the bodies back to the Onion.

That's when disaster struck. Their return journey involved traversing a tree branch across the river. While crossing the branch snapped, dropping a number of the Pikmin into the water and trapping the others away from the Onion. Those were promptly slain when night fell, leaving the Onion with no active Pikmin at all. This was a 'Pikmin Extinction' event.

So it is that I shall remain in this valley, which I have hence christened the Tragic Vale. I intend to watch how this Onion, with no active Pikmin, behaves on the morrow.

Professor Edlie,

Koppai Science Bureau."

I am warm, cosy, and secure. Around me my home breathes with life, red and familiar. I am not sure how it is familiar, as I can recall nothing before now. Am I newborn? I suppose so. I am young, and this place, the onion, is home. A word echoes in my mind, Pikmin. That is what I am, though who gave me – us – this name I know not.

There is a tremor, the onion is shuddering, and suddenly I am ejected into the air. I emerge into a world of light and sound. A brilliant blue sky opens up above me, and beyond me lush green grass spreads out below. To one side a massive wall of red stone rises, and on the other the grass gives way to a rushing river, clear and clean. All around there are massive twisted trees, gnarled roots bigger than I am, reaching up into a canopy of immense leaves.

I know the names and purposes of these things, though I have never glimpsed them before.

I descend, plunging into the soft and fertile ground. Once there my young form begins to absorb nutrients, and I grow quickly. I want to remain, to feed longer and grow stronger, but I am compelled to press on. I force myself up, pushing the soil aside and with a final exertion I burst out to stand upon the ground.

I am alone. The onion is weak, and I am the only Pikmin it can produce at this time. Worse, I bear only a leaf upon my head, so I too am weak. However, I cannot let that deter me. I have work to do.

I set out, to gather resources for the onion. I pick a direction and walk, acutely aware of the life around me. Creatures fly through the sky, dancing in the shafts of sunlight descending through the trees. Nearby, aquatic creatures leap up and splash in the river. I know that they all wish me harm. Keeping a wary eye upon them I turn towards the large wall, a series of russet blocks worn by age and neglect, and pass between two of them into an area beyond.

More grassy terrain awaits me on the other side, and I see more enemies. There are two of them, small, barely larger than myself. They are bulbous red creatures with spotted hides, and I know that they are hostile. They do not seem to have noticed me yet, so I retreat behind a tangled tree root and take shelter. I cannot take any chances with the onion depending on me.

Casting my vision from left to right I see something of interest. It's a flower, taller than I am and possessing a curious core at its centre. I know instinctively that this is crystallized nectar that it is of paramount importance. Better yet, it's well clear of the hostiles and so I dart for it, throwing myself at its stalk and doing as much damage as my weak body can. The plant shakes under my assault, and finally gives way, dropping its core at my feet!

Delighting in my victory, I snatch it up and, holding the nectar pellet aloft, I rush back to the onion. The way is clear, thankfully, for I am slow while carrying the core solo, but soon enough my mother and home comes into sight. I carry the pellet beneath and offer it up.

The onion takes the flower core within and shudders in response, and I eagerly anticipate the birth of others like me.

Sure enough, two seedlings erupt forth a few moments later and plant themselves in the ground. If left be they will grow stronger than me, the top of their heads budding and even eventually flowering. I would prefer to wait and leave them be, but I know that there are hostiles nearby and the onion needs protection. Stepping forth, I rip my brethren from the ground with a pop.

Two Pikmin emerge, scarlet of skin, and stand looking at me with large eyes. They say nothing, and nor do I, for we are already of one purpose. I turn, back towards the gap in the bricks, and they follow.

We number three now, and while I would prefer that we had more there are, alas, no other pellet-bearing flowers close by. It is down to us to engage the bulbous hostiles I saw earlier. If we can time our offensive well and take them one at a time we might well prevail.

We approach, clustered together, and one of the creatures notices us. Hungry eyes on stalks take us in, and it rushes forwards on two powerful legs, mouth open and tongue lashing from side to side.

Instincts of how to fight rise within me, some sort of memory passed on from the onion. Reacting instantly, I grab one of my fellow Pikmin and throw him! Before even seeing where he lands, I throw the second.

They land upon the target's back, striking hard and fast. Immediately the creature tries to throw them off, shaking from side to side, but I do not intend to abandon my brethren. I run in, striking the foe from behind and pummelling him, just as the Pikmin atop him do. Assailed by the three of us, the creature cannot stand, and with a lingering wail drops down, dead.

My fellow Pikmin cheer, and I too take satisfaction in the kill. As the thrill dies down the other two turn and look at me. They are waiting for my direction, I realise! My actions in throwing them have won them some sort of respect, and this feels right. I am Pikmin, as are they, but I am older and it is fitting that they take their cue from me.

I move to the body of our bested foe, and begin to lift. The other two follow suit, and soon we return it to the onion. Mother accepts our gift and soon three more Pikmin join our growing band. Now six strong I lead the way as we go after the second monster...

"Journal Entry Day 18

A most fascinating day indeed! Already some of my questions have been answered, and yet so many more remain!

The Onion produced a single seedling at the start of the day, without the prior input of any collected resources. This too was noted by the crew of the S. S. Drake in Onions without a Pikmin populations. Clearly the Onions retain some sort of 'emergency protein reserve' to create new seeds in desperate situations.

The behaviour of this first seedling was most curious. Firstly, it uprooted itself, so I now know that that is indeed an option if there are no other Pikmin about. Second, this one exhibited an initiative unseen in other Pikmin, venturing out on its own to gather resources for the Onion. Upon collecting these, it uprooted and led further Pikmin, acting the role occupied by the crew of the S. S. Drake during their visit to PNF-404.

My working theory is that the Onions are capable of growing a special 'Leader Pikmin' to direct the others. Though outwardly similar in appearance to its fellows, this Pikmin guides and directs the others. Clearly this is how the Pikmin survived prior to the arrival of our 3 explorers, who somehow managed to take the place of the Leader Pikmin.

I shall observe more tomorrow.

Professor Edlie,

Koppai Science Bureau."

TO BE CONTINUED...