Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from the official Kirby franchise.


Meta Knight threw himself sideways out of the path of a projectile, feeling the air sizzle as it exploded behind him. His new opponent seemed skilled at ranged combat, though had only used one technique so far; pelting the Star Warrior with explosive seeds from inside the pouch hanging at its hip. Without his Sword Beam, Meta Knight realised merely injuring the monster would be difficult, let alone actually defeating it. Again the small creature swerved into his view just above eye-level, a sinister smile creeping over its green scales as it once more produced a handful of natural grenades. But after leaping hastily aside Meta Knight landed heavily on his injured foot, which couldn't support his weight, and he collapsed painfully on the smooth surface. With his sword trapped underneath his body, Meta Knight could only lift a naked hand to defend himself against the coming barrage. As expected, it had little effect in protecting him, and he took the full force of the explosive seeds onto his minimally armoured body. He was pushed along the ground several metres, which scraped the side of his armour clean off, and thin lines of blood appeared on the exposed flesh. His front had momentarily been engulfed in flame, but the material which clothed him seemed to have been fire retardant, as the flames quickly subsided, leaving sooty, black specks the colour of charcoal.

Meta Knight let out a soft groan, struggling to his feet, his breath coming in harsh gasps which burnt the inside of his mouth. He sensed it, the approach of another grenade, and immediately lifted his sword to fend it off. He managed to deflect the seed without triggering an explosion, but the creature easily dodged it, gliding gracefully with the help of four rotating blades atop its triangular head. Meta Knight knew he would need to change tact, and fast. Reflecting the projectiles had been his only idea, and with such agility, he would not be able to merely redirect the attack. A distraction might work, but it would be risky.

His foe appeared to also be reconsidering its plan. It had a shrewd expression, and Meta Knight realised it may have a large assortment of items stashed in its small pouch; after all, he did in his cape. As it rummaged in its bag, Meta Knight considered his own options, beginning with a stock-take of the situation. His opponent was a small, flying creature in the shape of an upside down triangle, and covered with green scales. This could make it either a reptile or amphibian, though in the current neutral climate Meta Knight doubted that this information would be helpful. It flew by the use of four, angled, rotating blades, which revolved so quickly they appeared as a blur. Perhaps if he was able to jam something inside the propeller, it would crash, and with such small legs, make a vulnerable target on the ground. But there were no objects long enough for him to hold on to while at the same time trapping the creature's spinning blades. Meta Knight sighed and shook his head; was there no way to defeat this monster? Maybe his only option was to wait out the attacks and find a weakness or opening. If he could coax the opponent into making a mistake…

By this point the creature had produced a small, plain watering can, which dripped as it swerved in the air. The monster flew over him, as it did so pouring a transparent substance liberally from its can. Meta Knight tensed as the liquid penetrated his thin armour, shuddering as the bandages around his foot became soaked. Suddenly he realised there was a real possibility that the liquid was toxic. But surely the beast would not use poison in such a fight, or did Damla not instil any sense of honour into her captive strength-gauges? But the liquid did appear in all senses simply to be water, which made Meta Knight even more suspicious. He pivoted around, trying to keep the enthusiastic gardener-monster in his sight, as he did so making large ripples in the water's surface and distorting the blood-spotted reflections. For a moment, the mirrored ghost of a long-gone beast glared up at him with crimson eyes, cloaked so deeply in shadow no other features could be made out.

Fear.

Meta Knight tore his shaking eyes away. Not now, he moaned internally. Meta Knight's vision swept up from the haunting image, to lock back onto his opponent, who was pulling out another handful of seeds from its seemingly bottomless pouch. But these were different; blue and slightly larger. The creature was far ahead of him; it had an intricate plan, and he had nothing. Yet that only raised an interesting possibility for the knight—could the monster improvise?

He leapt backwards as the creature tossed a seed into the small pond it had created, missing terribly with a lazy shot that seemed designed to miss. He realised too late what its real target was as his body convulsed, collapsing into the swirling shallows. Torrents of pure energy throbbed through him, paralysing him from head to foot, and all he could do was cry out, though the bubbles failed to translate his message. His limbs were jerking uncontrollably, but he managed to wrench his face out of the water, spluttering with both eyes screwed shut. A few seconds later he forced them open and dragged himself onto his still twitching feet, raising his sword threateningly. He froze his expression and eyes in a poker face of determination, glaring at his opponent over the flat edge of his broken sword. The creature considered him, then a thin smiled curled about its lips. Arrogance. Its first weakness.

The monster held another seed out as if it were some kind of confectionary, before dropping it carelessly into the layer of water. Meta Knight dashed forward, using the lubrication to slide easily into the path of the explosive, as he did so deflecting it with his blade. A few metres behind him, the seed burst into a cloud of sparks in the empty air. The creature's expression twitched, and it drew all of the seeds into a firm fist. Anger. The second. Then it dodged sideways, pitching the explosives straight at Meta Knight. A moment later these shot back towards the creature at almost double the speed, exploding behind it in a potentially lethal fireworks display. Meta Knight lowered his blade cautiously, not thinking as such, but allowing his instinct full reign for the present.

The monster was altering its tact again, hovering upwards and producing a strange bundle in one gloved hand. Its malicious grin grew as it began to pull apart the object, separating the intertwining tendrils into a thick, spiked whip. The creature held onto a rough loop, wrapped around its fist, from which the whip's many tails protruded, spinning all of them into a grey blur which hid its body from view. Meta Knight tensed, then without appearing to move, took a quick glance behind him. His eyes seemed to melt, and even as he turned away the great wall of fire remained burnt into his retina. If he gave any more ground he would be turned to a measly pile of ash. But of course, he realised, his background could be an advantage.

The whip lashed out, striking Meta Knight's arm and tearing a long gash through his armour and into his flesh. Despite his anguished cry, he retained enough of his senses to grasp the thorny rope before the creature could retract it. Each individual thorn dug deep into his hand, causing it to throb to an extent he hadn't felt in many years. He was back there, on that battlefield, fighting for his survival, so that he in turn could protect others. So many people were relying on him. He would not fail them. A mighty tug brought him back to the present, and also sent him several metres along the slippery floor. He had to secure his footing, or he would play the monster's game by its rules.

"I said I'd be alright," Meta Knight growled to himself, as he slid along the wet surface, "I will not lie to them."

He focused his energy into the broken blade still clutched in his other hand. For a moment all thought, all memory vanished. It was just him, his sword, and his task.

STAB

Meta Knight drove his sword down into the wet surface, burying it up to its hilt in the once perfect ivory floor. Now with a foothold, he pulled his whole body back, growling deeply. He hadn't felt this desperation, or this power, in so long. He wasn't sure where he found the strength, but before he realised it, the creature was released from the whip's grasp, and careened into the hungry flames surrounding arena. The green triangle was engulfed, and disappeared in a second. Not even ash was left.

Meta Knight struggled for his next breath, sagging to the floor, one hand still around his blade, the other remaining attached to the spiky whip. He couldn't move. It had to be over now. It had to be…

He could hear the crowd stirring, a crowd he had forgotten existed, and then an imperious voice rose above the clutter of whispers.

"You are proving to be quite a formidable warrior, Sir Meta Knight. Congratulations on making it this far, but I doubt even you have the skill to defeat Octorn."

Octorn…Another…foe? Meta Knight had recovered enough to take gentle, shallow breaths. His face creaked upwards, rocking in time with his desperate panting. Is this…it? If I fail…this test, will she…let me die?

His first thought was submission, defeat, but that was not the way of the Star Warriors. He would die fighting, and make his friends proud. Most likely, he would join them soon. With a shaking hand, he grasped the draggling whip on the outside of the loop; he hadn't the strength to retrieve his shattered blade from its burial. He doubted it would survive being uprooted in any case. It was broken, scratched, wounded, and now hopeless. Much like its wielder. But no matter. Sword, Blade! I will be a master to be proud of, because I am so proud of you! Goodbye, children. I will watch over your battles.

The now familiar whir of the trap door filled the crisp air. Mist gently drifted around him, light, but chilling, as the water at his feet slowly began to evaporate. The shadowy depths appeared much darker, and there was a blur where the floor ended and the cavity began. It swayed, for a moment appearing as two separate openings, before joining to form one again. An even darker object drew out of the murky black, moving slowly, like an undulating, unformed mass. But as it rose, its limbs grew more defined, and its crimson hue showed through the masking fog. From all over its body, its giant head and long thick tentacles, water slowly seeped from tiny pores. It had eight such tentacles, as well as three horns, two symmetrical and curved like a rams, the other adorning the centre of its forehead, straight and sharp. The ground shuddered with enough force to knock Meta Knight onto his rear as the enormous creature lazily dropped an idle limb. It bared both of its lower fangs, and let out a growl which shook the arena, and momentarily deafened its opponent.

Meta Knight rose to his feet, swaying like a thin branch in the breeze. The whip, his only defence, hung limply to one side, his other hand useless, and covered in streaks of unchecked blood. He was seeing double, and could feel the darkness encroaching from the edges of his mind, growing with each dull thud from his heart. There was no time for hesitation. He launched the whip at the gigantic creature's face with as much force as he could muster. The spikes streaked through the swirling mist, scattering it into light swirls. But the creature caught his weapon in much the same way as Meta Knight had done only a few minutes previously, and tossed it easily aside. Then it began its slow approach, the march of doom. Meta Knight grasped the hilt of the broken blade with both shaking hands, and yanked at it with the little strength which remained within him. It snapped where the blade met the hilt, leaving only a thin, sharp sliver at the end of the cross-guard.

Suddenly, Octorn leapt towards him, covering the distance between them in mere seconds. Meta Knight's feet were frozen, and could barely lift his weight; all he could do was throw the hilt at the oncoming mass. He aimed for one eye, hoping that the shock of pain might halt its progress, and give him enough time to force his feet into an escape route. Only a second before the monster would have reached him, the shattered sword impacted with Octorn's eyes, the tiny sliver slicing into the vulnerable flesh, before bouncing out of the shallow wound. The creature's eyes narrowed and a howl of pure rage echoed throughout the arena, and deep into the facility. But it continued its offence, with doubled ferocity.

The horn at the centre of Octorn's forehead bore down on Meta Knight, who desperately attempted to throw himself aside. But his wounded body wasn't responding at the speed he was used to, and the piercing horn dug deep into his side, launching him backwards towards the towering flames which had incinerated his last opponent. His straggling limbs scrabbled on the soaked floor, skidding him to a halt before he could be roasted in the colossal furnace. But he could not so easily avoid his crimson foe, which had continued its assault without pause. In a few moments it loomed over him, its shadow sentencing him to its fatal judgement. Meta Knight was paralysed. Exhaustion had caught up with his twitching body. There was no escape now. The one, lance-like horn seemed to glint at its point. With speed Meta Knight had not witnessed since the War, the horn came down at him, its lethal point aiming straight between his half-closed eyes.