Authors Note: This chapter has been lightly edited, but if there are any plot contradictions, please let me know. I'm pretty sure there aren't but I hate hiatuses. Anyway, sorry if I don't post chapter too much. I'm mainly writing this for my own enjoyment, and am not on any sort of deadline. May sound rude, but if you are upset about the gaps between chapters… I guess you could go read something else…?

Anyway, here's chapter 2. Nice and long so I hope you're happy.

Chapter 2.

Ghirahim waltzed into what he had thought to be the most likely candidate for the Bazaar, but he hadn't expected so much sensory chaos. Every inch of the tent was lined with extravagant décor, with frills, embroidery, and paper lamps covering every possible surface. Exquisite scents filled the air. Stalls providing all the necessary services lined the edges of the large market, along with several obscure ones, such as fortune telling. Ghirahim noticed a stall on the other side of the tent with several cauldrons on a table, each with a different color of neon liquid bubbling inside. A blacksmith could be heard hammering away nearby.

However, the Bazaar itself was not the oddity that stopped Ghirahim in his tracks: It was the customers. Creatures of all shapes, sizes, and colors were meandering about the tent. Some were warriors of beef and brawn, carrying swords and axes that didn't look possible to lift. Others were quick, nimble creatures who sometimes held knives or katanas. Some went unarmed. Still others were not humanoid at all: Ghirahim immediately recognized Gorons, Zoras, and Mogmas, but there were other races that he couldn't identify. Tall, greenish men and women strode around proudly, with prominent red hair. Chubby little beings which resembled sentient plants shoved their way through the crowd, carrying flowers, stems, and other plantlike objects. Every once and a while, a human wearing a tunic and a pointy hat would appear, and Ghirahim made a show of staring them down until they noticed him, then he would scare them off with his tongue.

The crowd was culminating around a large stall near the center of the pavilion, one with a massive sign above it that read "SMASH" in several languages. Posters were plastered all around the stall, advertising the benefits of being admitted. Ghirahim dispersed a group shoppers with a glare strode over to one of the advertisements. The sign read:

Smash admittance rewards – sign up now!

- A room in the glorious Smash Manor

- Free transportation to all Smash locations

- Weapon storage for in between rounds

- All – access pass to any Smash convention

- Free food

So it's like a travelling circus, but with a gladiatorial flare. Ghirahim thought. He didn't really like the idea, but if it meant getting back at Link, he would do anything. Ghirahim turned from the poster and beheld the massive line of people waiting to get to the Smash booth. Unperturbed, he swaggered toward the front of the line, cutting past a large Goron with a huge hammer. He stood a moment, looking triumphantly at how close he was to the sign-up desk, before he felt a huge, choking pull on his red mantle. The grab launched him upwards, and Ghirahim landed painfully on his rear. He immediately stood up and presumed a confident pose, glaring down anyone who dared to laugh. Ghirahim rejoined the line a few spaces behind the Goron. He was careful to look unscathed, though his backside smarted.

Outside, Kukiel and Gully were having a slight altercation.

"That's no fair! If you go in, I go in with you! Get out of my way!" Gully tried to push past Kukiel into the Bazaar.

Kukiel sighed.

"Gully, you have to wait outside. You know your mom would never let you inside the Bazaar with all the strangers around."

"Then how come you get to go in!"

"I have to make sure Ghirahim doesn't get into any trouble."

Gully crossed his arms. "Did your mom tell you that?"

Kukiel looked about awkwardly. "N-no, but I have a feeling that happens to people like him."

"But he's this super demon-king-of-the-whole-world wizard guy! Why would you care about protecting him!?"

Kukiel turned toward the tent to go inside, but stopped. She whispered. "I think there's more to him than you can see." She ducked inside.

Gully grumbled. "Stupid girls."

He rushed in after her.

Kukiel was met with the same sensual shock that had stunned Ghirahim, but was expecting it. She started searching the crowd for a head of stark white hair, but stopped when she heard the gargantuan yell of a deep, gravelly voice.

"Get to tha back, ya skinny twig!"

Kukiel ducked under the metal-clad arm of a lizardish humanoid just in time to see Ghirahim gloriously fall flat to the ground, tossed like a bag of potatoes. Kukiel stifled a laugh as she watched the grey-skinned man regain his footing and reenter the line. After she was sure that no one else wanted a round of demon-lord hacky sack, Kukiel made her way toward the line.

Ghirahim had been contemplating how to exact revenge on the whole of the Goron tribe when he felt something bump into his leg. He looked down to behold a smiling Kukiel.

Dear Farore, I hope she hasn't been here for very long.

Kukiel looked as if she was about to say something, but Ghirahim cut her off. "How did all these beings arrive here?" he gestured to the massive line. "We are on a floating island, correct?"

"Yeah…" Kukiel said slowly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Didn't you know? Levias the Sky Whale has been giving rides to and from the surface. He's got ton of seats built on his back and everything. He doesn't seem to mind either. These Smash folks really get around. Say, isn't that how you got up here?" Kukiel looked suspicious. "Really Ghirahim. What were you doing when I found you?"

Ghirahim waved away the questions. "So the Smash people orchestrated this entire event" he thought out loud. Ghirahim motioned toward the man behind the desk. He was wearing a simple black tunic. "Kukiel, is that one of them over there?"

"Yup. They all look like that. I think they are workers or staff or something."

Ghirahim stared over to where several men in horned helmets were signing some papers. Behind them the line started. I wonder why so many of them keep getting turned down. What could possibly be so difficult a Goron or a Zora wouldn't be admitted?

"Do you recall any of their faces?"

Kukiel looked confused. "What do you mean?"

Ghirahim rephrased the question, annoyed. "Have you seen any of them before? The workers with the dark tunics."

Kukiel shrugged. "No. I think they're from the surface."

Ghirahim began to feel skeptical of the whole affair, but pushed the doubts out of his mind when the thought of revenge returned. He stepped forward a few paces when he noticed the helmeted fellows stomping off angrily. Apparently they had been rejected. Two more advances in line and he would be able to see what was on those papers.

Ghirahim was about to retreat into his own thoughts yet again, but a loud roar pierced through the throng of Bazaar noise. Ghirahim looked toward the source of the noise, and laughed at the sight of a large Lizalfos staring down Gully, who must have followed Kukiel inside the Bazaar. The green lizard-man was slowly advancing toward the terrified child, despite his pleading.

"No! Wait! Please! I was just trying to see if your skin was real! I promise I didn't mean to hurt you!"

Ghirahim noticed some shiny roundish turquoise objects in the boy's hand. He presumed they were scales.

"Please don't eat me!" Gully shouted as he shrunk back, looking for a way through the crowd, which had now formed a ring around him and the Lizalfos. Several were laughing.

Ghirahim felt an urgent tugging at his hand. Kukiel looked up at him, shocked.

"Save him, Ghirahim! No one's helping him!"

Ghirahim smirked as he noticed the Lizalfos flexing its muscles, steam snaking its way out of its nostrils. "Why should I? He's getting what he deserves."

"You can't say that! Help him!" Kukiel had genuine terror in her eyes. She continue to tug Ghirahim's arm, tears starting to run down her cheeks.

Why she cared so much for Gully, Ghirahim did not understand. Either way, he didn't want to have to deal with a crying child, so he gave in. "Alright, as you wish. But don't make me regret it." With a snap of his gloved fingers, Ghirahim created a wall of diamond-shaped barriers between the Lizalfos and Gully. He then swept his hand to one side, and the barrier mirrored the movement. The lizard was dragged away from Gully and into the crowd, none too gently. The beast didn't make an attempt to rise.

As soon as he had overcome his shock, Gully made a beeline for Kukiel and Ghirahim. "You saved me!" He looked at Ghirahim in awe. "Wow wow wow! Thanks!"

"Shut up. I am no hero." Ghirahim looked annoyed. He noticed the crowd begin to reform into a line. He looked at Kukiel. "I think it is best if you both leave now. I'll be fine alone from here, thanks."

Kukiel did not reply, but sent a look of wordless thanks and pulled Gully toward the door. Ghirahim turned away and reentered the line. He was one person away from signing up for Smash.

I have no idea what happens if one is admitted, but as far as I can tell, everyone I have witnessed personally has been rejected, Ghirahim thought. This is judging from attitude. Now if I can only find something that they all have in common, I can—

"Um, hi-er, hello. Excuse me, but you are, uh, Ghirahim, right?"

Ghirahim looked up. Standing in front of him was a short youth, probably in his teens, with green hair and a large round dot on each cheek. He resembled a small, timid clown. "Who might you be? Ghirahim had meant to sound polite when addressing the stranger, but evidently he looked more intimidating than he had intended, as the boy took two steps backward.

"Fudge. Er, Fledge. My name's Fledge. I'm from the academy. I just wanted to ask you, um, how did you do that thing before, you know, with the magic barrier thing?

Ghirahim cocked his head mockingly. "And why should I tell you?"

Fledge laughed timidly. "I was thinking about signing up for Smash, but I decided against it, because I'm kind of a weakling. Then I saw you, and I thought that if I could do that, maybe I could…"

"Get lost."

"Of course." The boy scampered off and disappeared into the crowd.

Ghirahim rolled his eyes. The ignorance of these people will never cease to impress me.

A loud bellow interrupted Ghirahim's thoughts, and he noticed the Goron that had caused him trouble earlier running out of the Bazaar in a rage. It was Ghirahim's turn to sign up.

The demon lord, as calmly as possible, strode up to the desk. The man in the black tunic looked up at him, and, for a split second, Ghirahim thought he saw the corner of the man's mouth twitch, in a kind of sarcastic smile. He pushed some papers and a pen forward and said gravely, "Fill these out please" and turned back to a monitor he had been staring at.

Ghirahim inspected the papers.

It was a fairly normal survey, apart from inquiries such as weapon of choice and preferred magical abilities. However, Ghirahim found the final two questions the most interesting. The first stated "where do you live?" and gave several options to choose from. One was Hyrule, but included were names like "The Mushroom Kingdom", "Archanea", or "The Lylat System". One option said "Earth". Ghirahim skeptically chose Hyrule, but was confused by the other options. He had been born in Hyrule and had lived there his entire life. Ghirahim knew of the existence of other continents besides Hyrule, but the options given on this piece of paper did not list them.

The final question in the application asked "Have you ever been on an adventure?" and gave several lines to be filled with text. Ghirahim was slightly appalled. What, do they think I am some kind of knight in shining armor?"

After some consideration, Ghirahim wrote a single line of text. "I have been wronged. I am seeking revenge. That is all you need." He knew the survey probably wanted a detailed description or some form of dangerous venture, but Ghirahim also knew the impact an air of mysteriousness and confidence had on opinions. Someone behind the demon shouted for him to hurry up, so Ghirahim stood up straight and slid the papers back to the man in the black tunic. The guy looked bored, but took the papers and glanced over the first page with mild interest. When he got to the second page, however, he examined Ghirahim's answers with scrutiny. Ghirahim, while trying to act indifferent, couldn't help noticing an eyebrow raise when the man read the last question and its answer. After finishing reading, he put down the papers and pressed some buttons on his monitor. Ghirahim was behind the screen, but he noticed the light on the man's face change. The guy started talking to the screen, as if someone was on the other side. Ghirahim couldn't decipher the language, but it was fast and sounded serious.

Once the conversation had evidently ended, the man steepled his fingers and turned to Ghirahim, with a face of mock sympathy.

Ghirahim presumed a stoic expression, though he was extremely disappointed at what he thought the man was about to say. What did I do wrong?

"I am sorry, but we cannot admit you to Smash. Please move along to permit others to sign up."

Ghirahim's face did not change. He strode away from the stall and toward the exit of the Bazaar, chin held high. He could not betray any of what he was feeling right now.

Furious!

Outraged!

Sick with anger!

I'll find a way to re-enter. Ghirahim began to formulate a plan. If I can regain my full magic capacity, I can assume my most powerful form and the staff will not recognize me. I can go under a different name—

Someone bumped into the furious demon lord just as he was about to exit the tent. He almost exploded. "Watch where you're going, imbecilic oaf!" he shouted as her turned around. A girl in a black tunic raised an eyebrow, amused at Ghirahim's outburst. She brushed dark hair out of her face and pushed past him, but not before pressing a small slip of paper into Ghirahim's white glove.

In any other scenario, Ghirahim would have immediately thrown the note away, expecting to see some form of love confession. Unfortunately, he had learned to ignore these seemingly harmless displays of affection from experience.

But this time, he did not. The girl had been wearing the same type of tunic as the man at the Smash booth. She may be an employee.

Ghirahim immediately unfolded the note. In neat, bold handwriting, it read:

The Graveyard. Midnight. Smash sees you as a valuable asset.

Bring any belongings you find necessary.

A sadistic grin spread across Ghirahim's pale face. "So that's how things work around here." He said to himself and laughed as he leapt out of the Bazaar.

Outside, Kukiel and Gully were hurling stones over the edge of Skyloft. Ghirahim chuckled inwardly at the thought of the poor souls below experiencing pebble precipitation. The two children immediately turned around when they heard him come close.

"Did you get in!?" They said in almost perfect unison.

Ghirahim assumed a playfully mysterious expression. "I'm not allowed to tell."

"Oh please!" Kukiel glared at him. "Don't do that! Tell us!"

Ghirahim looked at Gully and his eager childish face. "I saved your life. Isn't that enough?"

Gully ignored the comment and squealed. "Please tell us Mr. Gabardine!"

Ghirahim sighed. "Only if you promise to let me alone."

"We promise!" Gully shouted before Kukiel could interject.

Ghirahim paused for dramatic effect.

"Of course I made it in. I'm to leave at midnight."

"Wow wow—Mmph!" Kukiel clamped a hand over Gully's mouth before he could babble.

"Where are you going?" She inquired. Gully squirmed.

"I have no idea" Ghirahim mused. "I suppose I'll find out."

Gully broke free of Kukiel's grasp. "That's so cool and mysterious! But you need somewhere to stay until midnight, so why don't you come to my house? I want to show you my bug collection before you go!"

"Actually, I believe you agreed to leave me alone." Ghirahim said, annoyed.

Gully ignored Ghirahim once again and grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the Bazaar. Ghirahim glanced back toward Kukiel, silently pleading her to help.

Kukiel shrugged and skipped after the boy. "I want to see his bug collection."

Ghirahim scowled.

Several hours later, in the dark loneliness of Skyloft's night, a girl leaned up against a gravestone. Her dark tunic made it her hard to notice against the black sky, with only a pale face standing out. She was tapping the screen of a smartphone, looking somewhat bored. The time on her screen read 11:59. She looked up to see if anyone was coming, and saw no signs of life in the dimly lit area surrounding the graveyard. "He must be a lazy one" she mumbled to herself. She glanced at the small clock on her phone again, and watched it turn to 12:00.

Instantly, a blinding flash of light along with a metallic snap startled the girl, making her almost lose her balance. She grabbed on to the gravestone to right herself, and stood up straight, pocketing her phone. Standing in front of her was a tall man in tight, bleached clothes with white hair, wearing an odd maroon mantle. He bowed courteously and greeted her. "Hello again. I presume you already know my name. I thank you for the invitation. May we proceed?"

The girl shivered. "You disgust me. I mean, what's with the tights? Seriously, you need a wardrobe upgrade."

Ghirahim smirked.

The girl recoiled. "Ghirahim, was it? I'll never understand what got you accepted."

"May I have the pleasure of learning your name?" Ghirahim said, still smirking.

"No. Back off."

Ghirahim held up his hands. "No need for harsh words. Now, back to the point: What are we doing here, in a graveyard, at midnight?"

"You're to follow me." The girl turned on her heel and marched toward a gravestone in the back row.

"To where, exactly?"

"Not allowed to tell you." The girl said, sounding quite annoyed.

Ghirahim shrugged. "I can't very well keep addressing you in pronouns. How about I call you Betty?"

Betty groaned.

"I always liked that name. I once met a Goron lady named Betty. Boy was she ever-"

"Shut up!" Betty kicked the gravestone with gusto.

"Calm yourself, no need for harsh words, remember? I'm only trying to be polite."

Betty didn't reply. Instead, some oddly shaped symbols started pulsating on the surface of the gravestone. Ghirahim noticed them, and froze. "Those symbols… They shouldn't be there."

Betty turned on her heel. "Listen here mister. You wanna get in or not? You signed up for this, now you get to follow me."

Ghirahim waved a hand toward Betty, as if dismissing her, still concentrating on the symbols. "Shut up. Something's not right."

Betty sighed sarcastically. "Don't get all dramatic with me, Mr. Whitey Tights."

"You don't get it!" Ghirahim shouted through clenched teeth. "Those symbols! The twin horns! That's the emblem of my kin! The Demon Tribe!"

Betty cocked her head, obviously annoyed. "It doesn't matter. It opens the door, that's all we need."

As if on cue, the door of an abandoned shed a few feet from the graveyard slid open, revealing a ladder descending into darkness.

"See?"

Ghirahim tensed. "You can't even conceive what could be down there"

Betty rolled her eyes. "Look, I don't like my in-laws either, but we need to get moving. If we aren't at HQ by dawn, I'll…"

"That's not what I meant. I am not, per say, on good terms with the tribe. I won't be able to talk down whatever lives in that hole."

Betty started down the ladder. "How could anyone possibly be on good terms with a tribe of flipping demons. Especially if they are anything like you. Now let's go."

Ghirahim moved toward the ladder reluctantly. "Don't accuse me if you regret this."

"Come on fabulous. This won't ruin your nails."

Ghirahim followed Betty down the ladder, descending into darkness.

The two reappeared below the island, on a wooden scaffolding hanging out above the abyss. A catwalk made from a few wooden planks extended outward, leading to a small, cobweb-covered house suspended below the sky island. Betty trotted down the bridge, unfazed by the haphazard construction of the pathway. Ghirahim padded after her carefully, his thin boots making almost no sound apart from the creaking of the wood.

"In here." Betty turned the door handle.

Ghirahim's voice took an urgent tone. "Are you sure you know what you're doing? Because I have several ideas of what could be in there, none of which I like…"

Betty sighed, swung the door open, and stomped inside.

Ghirahim hesitated, and waited for a scream. Instead, he heard a muffled "Come on you little wuss!"

Ghirahim stepped up to the door and lightly pulled it open. Inside, the house was dismal, in disrepair and dimly lit with odd, skull shaped lamps and decorated with grizzly looking weapons. In one corner, Ghirahim saw Betty standing over a mechanical device, with glowing lights and plenty of wires trailing in every direction. She was typing something into a monitor and keyboard which extended upward from the machine. In the opposite corner, someone was chained to the wall.

The creature had grey skin, much like Ghirahim's, and wore skyloftian clothing. Two massive, blood-red horns jutted from his cranium, and a pair of yellow, bat-like wings draped over his shoulders. His face was obscured, as he was sitting down in a hunched position, with his hands clasped behind his back and chains looping from his ankles to the wall. The man, who Ghirahim immediately recognized as a fellow demon, appeared to be unconscious.

Ghirahim didn't take his eyes off of the creature. "Betty," He said. "What is he doing there?"

Betty didn't look up. She kept typing. "He's a resident. This is normally his house, but we had to confiscate it for reasons. The locals don't know about him, so we keep him here. We can't afford to risk his interference, so we restrained him."

"We?"

"Nintendo. The organization that runs Smash. And that's all I can tell you."

Ghirahim considered the information. A shady group of foreigners who run a gladiatorial circus and torture those who might "interfere". Something told him he was about to dive into more than he could handle, but the idea to revenge still lingered at the forefront of his mind. Ponderously, Ghirahim quietly walked over to the chained up demon. He stared at the contorted figure, trying to decide if he actually pitied the man.

Without warning, the demon leapt toward Ghirahim, and strained against its bindings. Ghirahim stepped back, almost tripping.

"No! My own kin! Don't go through! Get out of here while you still can!" The beast raved at the startled demon lord.

Betty piped up. "Ignore him. He's crazy."

Ghirahim looked back at the creature, stunned. "Through…. through where? Why should I leave?"

The beast had wide eyes. "Don't follow her! They never come back, those that go through. And they scream! They scream so loud!" The delirious creature covered his ears.

Ghirahim grabbed the demon by the horns. "Who went through? And why shouldn't I?"

Tears started streaming down the man's ragged face, his yellow eyes red with rage and fear. "My friends! They took my friends!"

Someone grabbed Ghirahim's shoulder. He released the mad demon, who shrunk back to the wall, and turned to see Betty motioning toward the machine. It was now glowing very brightly. "Come on. The teleporter is ready."

"Teleporter? Is that what this creature means by 'going through'?"

Betty growled. "I told you he was crazy. Don't listen to anything he says."

Ghirahim shrugged off Betty's hand. "He said his friends had gone through. I presume he means the teleporter. Who else has been recruited?"

Betty looked at Ghirahim, looking extremely annoyed.

"You can't tell me." Ghirahim sighed in exasperation.

"Nope." Betty grabbed Ghirahim's hand and yanked him over to the machine. "Now let's go. Finally."

Before the demon lord could protest, Betty pushed a button on the monitor and the machine started to whirr, a spot on its flat surface big enough for 3 people to stand abreast glowing a bright blue. She stepped onto the contraption, in the center of the light. "For the millionth time, come on, whitey tights."

Ghirahim warily stepped onto the lit pad next to Betty, curiosity getting the better of him. He noticed the monitor displaying a set of numbers, which he assumed were coordinates. He did the best he could to memorize them, in case he needed it for future reference.

"Here we go. It shouldn't be too long now. Just relax and enjoy the ride." Betty relaxed her shoulders.

Ghirahim noticed something. She was clenching her jaw. Hard.

The demon lord had just enough time to brace himself before a blinding light forced him to shut his eyes. Pain seared his skin, and his blood turned to ice. Ghirahim did his best not to yell. He could barely make out the screams of the madman before the world melted away. Ghirahim's senses faded into blackness.