Chapter 15: Morning Announcements

The light from the window next to Fox's bed fell upon the drowsy vixen. Stretching, still deep into the early-morning tiredness that came to everyone when they woke after a hard night's sleep, Krystal looked up at the digital clock on the wall. 7:14 in the morning. Sighing heavily, she came over to Fox's bedside to look for any signs of improvement. The scars from the battle, she noticed, were beginning to mend, but he still showed no sign of growing consciousness. She felt like crying at this, but found that she could no longer shed any tears. She had already used up her entire supply the previous night. Wondering how she must look, Krystal looked to her immediate right at a mirror hanging on the wall. Sure enough, she looked like a total wreck…

With a gentle knock at the door, the female wireframe who attended the front desk entered in, making Krystal jump a little. She would normally never let anyone see her this unkempt. The wireframe, thankfully, didn't seem to notice.

"Good morning, Krystal", she said, "How did you sleep?"

"Pretty well, all considering," Krystal responded, "It was kinda quiet. Fox usually snores when he sleeps."

The wireframe nodded sadly. "Has there-?"

"No. No signs of waking."

"I'm so sorry, dear. Just try not to lose hope, okay? It's only been a day, after all. I'm sure he'll come out of it sometime."

Krystal looked up. "You really think so?"

The wireframe nodded earnestly. "He's a real fighter. The fact that he lived through those injuries shows that."

Krystal smiled. It was a great comfort for her to hear this. "Ugh, I feel like a wreck. All the showers are probably taken up by now, though." It was typically an hour wait before one could use one of the few showers in Smash Mansion, and that number doubled for every hour past six o' clock. There was probably quite a line there by now.

An odd look overcame the wireframe, and she shook her head. "Everyone's at the breakfast hall this morning. They were too eager to get the news on what happened last night."

Krystal remembered the explosion that rocked the mansion not too long after ten o' clock. "Do they know what happened? Where was the explosion, anyway?"

The odd look deepened on the wireframe's face. "One of the windows in the library was blown out of the wall last night." She sighed. "I'm a little shocked myself, frankly…"

"What happened?" Krystal repeated. What could cause the library windows to blow up?

The wireframe gave a small, ominous frown. "It was Mewtwo. He apparently got very angry for some reason in the library and destroyed a good portion of it. He blew out the window with a shadow ball, and then burned a large section of books nearby with psychic sparks. He should be thankful that he didn't start a fire."

"You're kidding me!" Krystal exclaimed, "Mewtwo? He loves that library! And he almost never loses his temper! What made him so angry?"

The wireframe shrugged. "I have no idea. When I got there to see if anyone was hurt, he was just standing there by the hole he made in the wall and stared off into space. He went with the mansion security without a fight, but all he said was that he desperately needed to see the Master Hand for some reason."

That didn't make much sense to Krystal. If you blow a hole into the wall of the Mansion, the last person you would want to see is the Hand. She imagined the Hand went absolutely ballistic when he found out that a very large portion of the library, containing some of the most valuable texts from several worlds, was destroyed, along with the adjacent wall and window.

"I'm afraid I don't know any more than that, though, dear," the wireframe said. "If you're still curious, you could probably meet up with everyone else at the breakfast table to find out."

Krystal thought about it for a moment. Rhydon was probably there, considering that the Master Hand had personally told her that there wasn't enough proof to write off what happened as anything more than an accident, and she didn't think she had the stomach to see that monster's ugly face right now. However, Falco, Wolf, and Junior were probably there too, and she dearly wanted to see them.

"Yeah, that sounds good. I really need to get out and about again, anyway. Although…" She looked over her shoulder at the mirror, and shuddered a little. "I think I'll probably take that shower first."

The wireframe nodded with a little grin and escorted her out of the hospital wing.

"You'll let me know if there's any change, right?" Krystal asked at the hospital entrance.

"You'll be the first one I'll call, Krystal," the wireframe said.

With a quick nod, Krystal rushed off towards the showers, hoping that there was still one available so that she could join up with her friends as quickly as possible. The wireframe watched her go, shaking her head sadly and wondering just what was happening to Smash Mansion.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Indeed, just as the wireframe had said, the breakfast room was filled with an inordinate amount of chatter. All of the things that had happened yesterday, from Bowser Junior's surprise victory in the championship match to Fox's hospitalization to the mysterious late-night explosion, were still fresh on everyone's minds, and people were eager to share their opinions on these matters. As a consequence, wild theories began sprouting up like weeds.

"So let me get this straight, Roy," Marth said flatly, "You think that Mewtwo lost a large sum of money betting on Meta Knight to win in the championship fight, and that he blew a hole in the wall because he messed up a magic spell he read in one of the library books that would have allowed him to travel back in time to fix the fight so Meta Knight would win?"

Roy fiddled with his omelet. "It's not that far out the realm of possibility, you know."

"Uh, actually, it is out of the realm of possibility, Roy," Marth responded.

"How?"

"Oh, let me think. Number 1: Mewtwo is a Pokémon, meaning that he doesn't have any money. Number 2: Even if the library had a book that let you travel through time, don't you think someone else would have found it before this? And Number 3: Smashers aren't even allowed to bet money in the fights, you dunce!"

"He's got you there, man," Little Mac said over his bowl, "Say, speaking of Mewtwo, I haven't seen him this morning. Haven't seen the hand, either, for that matter."

"That's probably because he's still up in his office yelling at Mewtwo," Olimar pointed out, "Haven't seen Junior, Meta Knight, or Krystal, either."

"Or Rhydon," Falco, who didn't normally sit with them, said darkly.

"That's right," Mac nodded along with several others, "No one's seen him around since his match with Fox. How are you two doing, by the way?"

"We're getting along," Wolf said, taking a drink from his coffee mug and grimacing, "God, why can't we get any good food in this place?"

"Because Kirby and Yoshi always eat anything good we buy," Olimar said "Remember that time we tried to buy Luigi a cake for his birthday when-… hey, Junior! Over here!"

Bowser Junior had just walked in. Even though he had slept in due to how late he had stayed up the previous night, he didn't look very well rested. Junior, his tired expression brightening upon seeing them, came over with his breakfast tray and pulled back a chair.

"Morning everyone," he said, stifling a yawn.

"Someone sure looks tired," Roy said, "Up celebrating all night, were you?"

"No, just… just had a bad dream, that's all," Junior said casually, causing Olimar and Little Mac to look up from their breakfast.

"Well," Roy continued on, "Why don't you tell us what you think went down last night?"

Junior blinked confusedly. "What did happen last night?"

Everyone at the table looked up at him in surprise. "You mean you haven't heard?" Marth asked.

"Uh, no," Junior said with a frown, "I only just woke up. So, what happened?"

"Mewtwo blew up part of the library," Marth said emphatically.

"Hah. Yeah right. Seriously, though, what did happen? I heard that explosion and-"

"Junior," Roy said, sounding uncharacteristically serious, "It's no joke. Mewtwo actually blew up the library."

Junior looked around to see any joking faces amongst the group, and saw there were none. "You're serious?" he asked incredulously, "You're actually serious? Mewtwo blew up the library?"

"It's true," Little Mac said, "Apparently he got really pissed off for some reason and decided to go crazy on the nearby book shelves. The explosion itself was from when he blew up one of the library windows with a shadow ball."

Junior didn't immediately respond, but instead seemed to be in grim thought for a moment. "Where is he now?" he asked finally.

"Probably still getting an earful from the hand," Roy said.

"It's been nine hours," Junior said skeptically, "How could anyone possibly yell at someone for that long?"

"He did almost $10,000,000 of damage in there," Marth said, "If someone came and destroyed something of mine that was worth that much, I'd probably yell at them till I collapsed of malnutrition."

Junior said nothing, once again lost in his thoughts. Little Mac, using this time to gather his will, decided to give him the news they had all dreaded to deliver.

"Uh, Junior, there's something else," Little Mac said cautiously. Everyone at the table suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

"Yeah?" Junior said, confused by the way that everyone was acting.

"Well… Uh, ya see…" Little Mac attempted, seeming to choke on the words he was trying to say. Giving up speech with a sigh, he instead pointed over to a nearby table. Junior looking in the direction Mac was pointing and groaned. Peach was there, sitting at a table with Wario and Dedede.

"Yeah," Olimar said, "She came in around the time of the explosion, apparently. I don't' know how you're dad's taking it, I haven't seen him this morning either." Both he and Little Mac were watching the young koopa carefully, who was glaring heatedly in Peach's direction. There was a glint of something foreign in his eyes, and it gave him an unusually sinister look. However, no else at the table seemed to notice.

"Why did she come back?" Junior growled.

"No one's asked her yet," Falco said, "It's odd though, isn't it? That she just happened to come back around the same time that Mewtwo went nuts?"

Junior said nothing, continuing to glare at Peach with unnatural carnality. His eyes were no longer their normal cool slate color, but instead were a freakish yellow-red. They seemed coldly predatory, and were considering Peach the way a cat does when it sees a songbird with a broken wing. This time, Olimar did see these eyes, and had to keep himself from uttering a moan.

"Junior," Little Mac said, knocking his fist against the table, causing Junior to tear his view back towards them. The alien look in his eyes had vanished, and was replaced with what looked like shame. And fear.

It's that thing again, whatever it is, Little Mac thought, his eye's meeting with Olimar's. No kid can put that much hatred into a glare like that. It's just not natural... Something's doing this to him, no question about it. And I'll bet my gloves that Mewtwo is somewhere close by…

As if by some divine, unspoken cue, the doors to the lunchroom opened, revealing the psychic Pokémon himself, the usual look of calm intensity on his face. The hall went deathly quiet and all heads were turned upon his direction. Mewtwo, not really looking at anyone, didn't seem to notice. He levitated himself calmly over to a deserted table that was directly behind Junior.

"Hey, Mewtwo!" Wario called out loudly, "Burn any good books lately?"

He howled with laughter at this, along with Peach. Dedede gave a nervous chuckle, but carefully avoided Mewtwo's gaze. No one else in the hall dared make a sound. As Wario continued laughing, one of his breakfast muffins levitated off of the table and then violently shoved itself inside of his mouth, silencing him. This provoked some relaxed laughter, as it was the kind of response that Mewtwo would normally make. Not even turning in Wario's direction, Mewtwo levitated one of the herbal teas from the breakfast bar over to himself and sat down in a chair that was literally inches behind Junior. Junior, more curious than worried, didn't particularly mind this but everyone else at the table was quite unnerved to be in such close proximity with the psychic Pokémon.

"Why's he sitting so close to us?" Roy whispered quickly to Marth, "He usually sits with the other Pokémon. What's he up to?"

"I don't know," he replied, "Seems kind of fishy to me though…"

"Maybe he's lonely," Junior whispered back, shrugging, "Everyone's been avoiding him lately, including the other Pokémon. Maybe he just wants to be around some people, that's all."

"I don't think that's the reason, Junior," Little Mac said aloud, causing the table to cringe. Mewtwo didn't notice.

Just then, the doors opened once again. Junior wheeled around quickly, hoping to see Krystal or his father, but saw that it was only the Master Hand. It was always difficult to tell what kind of mood the hand was in, mostly due to his lack of a face, but the smashers, who had grown accustom to reading his odd body language, recognized that he seemed very exhausted. He floated a little slower than he usually did up toward the main table, followed by his brother, who twitched and fidgeted in his usual grotesque manner. The hall was once again quite as the hand reached his table and turned towards the smashers. His low, unusual voice emanated powerfully from his mouthless form.

"Smashers, may I have your attention," he said, seemingly oblivious to the fact that everyone was already giving him their complete and undivided attention. "There are a great many things that need to be discussed this morning."

He paused, apparently surveying his silent audience, then slowly continued. "I am more than aware that all of you desire an explanation to the events that have occurred as of late. All of you have been effected by these occurrences in one way or another, and I'm not fool enough to think that you all will just accept a couple of half-hearted reassurances without ever being told the truth. You all desire peace of mine and to have your concerns mollified, which, in light of what has happened, is perfectly understandable. Now, as the founder of the Super Smash Brothers competition, I wish to see to it that the questions held by the friends and family of the victims sitting here today get answered. And I am going to see to such a matter personally."

The Smashers looked around at each other. The hand didn't usually make announcements unless it involved personal gain, telling off people who break the rules… or for the direst of situations.

"I have arranged an explanation for you this morning regarding all of the things that have so recently come to pass. I want to go uninterrupted during this explanation, but knowing all of you, I very much doubt that I will get my wish. Know this: I am not in the mood to be crossed right now. If any of you wish to upset me, then know that you do so at your own risk."

There were nervous whispers. The Hand seemed deathly serious.

"Now, as you listen, I want you all to keep in mind that I am not required to do this. There is no law or consequence that obligates me to provide you with all the information that you wish to hear. If I were to say nothing to you this morning, I would pay no price, and in all honestly saying nothing to you all would probably be a wiser choice on my part. I could say nothing… but I wouldn't sleep soundly tonight, nor would I be able to bear looking at myself in the mirror. As low as all of your opinions may be of me, do not think that I am without a conscience. However, I will say only what I feel needs to be said, and only because I, and no one else, feel that you deserve to know."

More whispering followed this.

"Before I get started, however, I wish to acknowledge the efforts and valiant sacrifices that one of our smashers has recently made. Having shown great perseverance in the face of tremendous odds has rewarded him with the well earned honor of being our new Super Smash Brothers Lightweight Champion; it is my pleasure to recognize the victory of one of our youngest smashers: Bowser Junior."

There was some applause, causing Bowser Junior to blush a little.

"Is there anything you wish to say on your behalf, young koopa?" the Hand asked.

Junior stood up and looked around hesitantly, still wondering where Krystal and his father were. "Yes. I couldn't have done this without the support of my friends and family," he said simply. There was more applause, a little louder this time. Peach made a gagging motion at this, to which Junior pretended not to notice.

"Is that all you wish to say?" the hand asked. Junior wanted to say more, but he knew that everyone, including himself, was eager to hear the hand's explanation. "Yes, sir. I'm done." He sat back down, receiving warm looks from his tablemates.

"Very well then," the Hand stated. "Before I forget, I should announce that despite the recent happenings yesterday, exhibition matches will continue today as scheduled. Also, now that all weight class champions have been selected, we will soon begin our tournament to decide this year's Ultimate Super Smash Brothers Champion. There will be more information on that later."

The hallway doors opened once again, causing heads to silently turn. It was Rhydon. Furious glares shot out from almost every table, but none so heated as the ones that emanated from the table that Falco and Wolf were sitting at. Falco even shot Rhydon the bird right in front of everybody, an act that under any other circumstances would have likely garnered him a week's worth of punishment duties. Rhydon paid no attention to him, however, and walked over to sit down at a deserted table, his face difficult to discern.

"Alright," the Master Hand said, causing all eyes to turn towards him once again, "I will now deliver my address to you all." He cleared his throat. "The first event that I will speak of involves the hospitalization of Smasher Fox McCloud."

Several glares returned to Rhydon, then quickly went back to the Master Hand.

"During the exhibition match between Fox and fellow Smasher Rhydon— happening at approximately 19:47 hours military time, if anyone cares to know— Fox sustained heavy injuries that include both of his arms and legs being broken, seven broken ribs, a punctured lung, internal bleeding, massive bruising around the throat and torso, and heavy fracturing at four different locations on his skull. He is currently alive, but in a comatose state. It is unknown if he will ever awaken."

Nearly everyone was glaring hatefully at Rhydon, and more than a few were making obscene and violent gestures towards. The Master Hand's presence was probably the only thing stopping the Smashers from lunging at Rhydon and beating him to a bloody pulp.

"An investigation was performed immediately following the incident. I won't go into all of the details about the investigation itself, but I will give you both the investigation's and my own shared conclusions on the matter: the evidence gathered shows no evidence that Smasher Rhydon was at fault during the incident, and that the severity of the injuries that he inflicted upon Fox was accidental."

"What! That's bull!" The silence was broken by outraged cries from Falco and Wolf, who stood up quickly in anger. Most of the other smashers voiced similar notes of outrage at this announcement. "How the hell can you do that to someone on accident!" Wolf snarled, arousing cries of agreement. Rhydon did not react to this.

"That's enough," the Master Hand said with deathly calm, cutting through the sound in the room like a sword. The agitated smashers quickly sat down, remembering the Hand's earlier warnings of not being interrupted. Falco and Wolf sat back down as well, although still with expressions of utter contempt. "Whatever the laws of the worlds you all hail from may be, the Super Smash Brothers competition takes place on land owned by the United States of America, and as such must abide by their laws that state all who are accused of a crime are innocent until proven guilty."

Indignant muttering followed this. However no one apart from Falco and Wolf appeared ready to disagree with the Hand on the matter.

"Now before I go on, Rhydon has personally requested that he might be given the opportunity to say his mind to you all this morning, to which I have agreed. I expect the utmost degree of self control from each and every one of you as he speaks," the Hand said threateningly, "Rhydon, you may now say your mind."

Rhydon stood up, his face still difficult to read, and faced towards the sea of utter hatred that emanated towards him. He cleared his throat. "Hey, everyone…" he said awkwardly, attempting a smile but miserably failing. It was at this time that everyone noticed how utterly exhausted he looked, and how he seemed to be trying to hide it. His eyes were red and puffy, as if he had recently been crying. He paused for a second, and then sighed, looking rather defeated. "Look," he seriously, "I'll be frank with you all. I'm not gonna pretend that everything's going to be alright after I'm done talking. I don't expect anyone here to hate me any less for what I've done, and I don't expect to get any sympathy from anyone in here today. In fact, I honestly expect to get beaten up by somebody, if not everybody here,as soon as breakfast is over." He actually gave a choked laugh, a small, miserable sound. "Smash has been like a family to me. Everyone in here's like family to me personally, whether you feel the same way about me or not. I mean… come on. I've lived with all of you. I've eaten in the company of all of you at every meal. I've shared Christmas and Thanksgiving and New Years Day along with all of you…" He trailed off, as if lost for words, then shook his head a little and came back to attention. "I can't say I get along with everyone here, but I do the best that I can." He sighed. "You're all like family to me. And so is Fox…" He took a deep, nervous breath, then continued. "If anyone here is thinking of beating me up as soon as the Master Hand is done with his announcements, then let me at least say this: I seriously doubt that anyone here can hurt me as much as I deserve to be hurt. Fox was… is a good friend. He'd always cheer people up if they lost a match, and he'd always root for the underdog in every tournament."

Junior swallowed thickly. He'd never really thought about how much he owed Fox for his support during the Lightweight competition.

"He supported me, and everyone else in this mansion… I…I myself don't even know what happened during that match I had with him," Rhydon said, his voice getting progressively shakier, "While I was fighting Fox, he didn't seem quite like himself. He… he was acting so aggressively to me. When I tried to shake his hands he said something horrible to me, and I was so shocked I slapped his hand away. Looking back, I see now know that it was a really idiotic thing for me to do. He might have just been having a really bad day or something, a-and he might have just trying to vent himself a little. Instead of letting him get out his emotions, I just ended up making him angrier. When the match started, he came at me with… with such…" He paused, his breathing getting a little bit faster, "Ferocity… I was afraid that he might actually hurt me. I… I was eventually so terrified that I lashed out at him. I was trying to st-stop him…" He was crying now. "I-I just wanted him to stop! T-to make it so he wouldn't hurt me! I was so upset, I-I didn't even r-realize what I was doing to him un-until the match was ended!..." He trailed off, sobbing miserably.

Many of the smashers looked totally shocked. They had been so horrified by Fox's injuries that they never even considered that Rhydon might have just been trying to defend himself. Junior's table was utterly flabbergasted. Roy and Marth looked speechless in horror, now feeling horrible pity for the sobbing rock Pokémon. Falco and Wolf, by contrast, looked murderous at the notion that their friend had been at fault in the incident, and looked like they were only barely restraining themselves from launching themselves at Rhydon. Olimar and Little Mac looked surprised, but were entirely not convinced by Rhydon's display. Junior wasn't even looking at Rhydon. Instead, he was looking at Mewtwo, who was staring fixedly at the sobbing Rhydon in a fashion that Junior was all too familiar with. He's trying to read his mind, Junior thought.

Rhydon suddenly stood up and ran out of the hall, still crying, leaving the room silent once again. The room was as still has a galleria of wax figurines, all openmouthed at what they had just heard and witnessed. The only two who didn't look shocked or furious were Mewtwo, who was instead looking a little disappointedly in the direction that Rhydon ran off in, as if he had been expecting something, and Bowser Junior, who found Rhydon's entire speech to be so laughably ridiculous that he knew that no one could possibly have believed it.

"Well," the Master Hand said after nearly a minute of pure silence, "That's that. I have nothing more to say on this matter. Time to move on to other business. The second item concerns the reports from the autopsy done on Link's body."

The heads whipped back towards the Master Hand in perfect unison at this, everyone momentarily forgetting all about Fox and Rhydon.

"I'm quite sure that much of the information has already been leaked to you, so I don't know exactly what you've been told so far. Again, I don't see any need to get into the specific details about the autopsy, but I will tell you the conclusions made. Link suffered a massive gash across his chest, cutting through the sternum, ribcage, and both lungs as well as nicking the aorta. The cause of death was declared to be due to massive blood loss. Now, again, I doubt this is new information to any of you. I doubt it's even the technicalities of Link's death that you're really concerned about, either, so I'll just go right to the point."

Once again, the room was completely stiff in anticipation. The Master Hand gave a moment of pause, and then went on.

"The weapon that inflicted the injury upon Link was found to be a widely serrated cutting object of some sort, most likely a sword. Considering that one of the weapons contained in this mansion was in fact a sword of such description, an investigation was done to try to identify if this act was a homicide."

The Hand paused, a different kind of pause then the previous ones, before speaking again.

"The results were… were found to show that Link's death was most likely accidental."

Zelda, in tears, jumped up with a seething visage. "That's a LIE!" she roared, "That was no damn accident! Meta Knight killed him, and you know it!"

Similar angry shouts arouse, filling up the chamber with intense noise. The Master Hand snapped his fingers, a huge, explosive sound, and everyone was once again quite.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" the Hand said wrathfully, "We cannot accuse anyone without sufficient proof!"

"What the hell do you mean, 'sufficient proof'?" Ganondorf shouted out angrily over the silence. He might not have liked Link, but that didn't mean that he would allow a crime of this magnitude to go unpunished. "You expect us to sit here and swallow this accident crap! There is no other way that he could have gotten those wounds; it had to have been from Meta Knight's sword!"

Voices of agreement rose up again, some with shouts of rallying violence against Meta Knight. Samus, sitting two tables away from Junior, was appalled. Over her travels she had witnessed riots, looting, and even a coup d'état. As such, she recognized a mob when she saw one. This is insane, she thought, someone's seriously going to get hurt if this gets any worse.

As the shouts got wilder, the Master Hand's temper broke. He slammed a fist over his mahogany table with such force that it broke in two like a Styrofoam board.

"I AM NOT GOING TO SIT HERE AND LET MY COMPETITION BECOME THE SCENE OF A PUBLIC LYNCHING!" He roared, making the walls quiver. The smashers cowered into their seats at the Hand, fearing that his rage might lead to physical violence. Even Crazy Hand, who usually wasn't afraid of anything, seemed subdued by his brother's fury. Several tense seconds passed. Finally, the Master Hand's angry posture seemed to slaken. He lifted his fist off of the jagged splinters of the table and returned to his calm, open handed possition. When he finally spoke, his voice was one of pitiful disappointment.

"Do any of you think I take this matter lightly?" he asked tiredly, "Do any of you think that I don't have any doubts of my own? These events have affected me more than any of you know, and when I say that there is not enough evidence to convict anyone of Link's death or Fox's assault, it is because I believe it in my heart to be true. "

The smashers were quiet. The hand went on.

"I have half a mind to stop right here, seeing as you all would rather see to it that blood is spilt rather than hear the truth. I can't say that I haven't expected you to act this way, which is why I had Rhydon arrive late this morning and had Meta Knight not arrive at all, but I still can't help but be disappointed in all of you."

The smashers looked utterly ashamed, many looking at their feet or at their breakfast trays. The hand sighed.

"I'm tired, myself, and it's been affecting my way of thinking. Many of you are fearful and angry over what's been happening lately, and I imagine that it's been affecting the way you are all thinking as well. It is forgivable to want to accuse the first thing you can think of in order to defeat your fears and sate your anger, but to act violently on these impulses is the behavior of lawless cowards, not warriors. I can't force you to unconditionally accept everything that I've said this morning; I don't even expect you to. All that I ask of you is that you listen."

These words killed the fury within the crowd. Almost everyone looked horribly ashamed, and some even looked disgusted with themselves, at how they had been behaving. No one spoke for a long time, the guilty silence being held for what seemed like minutes before the Hand finally sighed.

"Okay," the Hand said, "I want to get the last bit of this over with as quickly as possible so all of us can leave. The final matter that I wish to discuss is about the explosion that occurred last night."

A few individuals looked up tensely at this, Olimar and Little Mac included, but for the most part the smashers were still too busy digesting what the Master Hand had said to them to care very much.

"The explosion, occurring in the library, was caused by Mewtwo when he destroyed one of the library walls with a shadow ball. Several books and bookshelves were also destroyed in the process."

A few turned curiously to see how Mewtwo would react to this, but other than that no one seemed to show much animosity towards Mewtwo for this action. Or, at least almost no one.

"You know what I think?" Mac whispered to Olimar, making sure that no one else could over hear. "I think he got pissed that none of those occult books he loves so much held the right kind of spell that he wanted…" Olimar, hearing the implications of this, nodded and said nothing.

"Mewtwo admits to having willfully destroyed a large portion of the library after becoming upset while reading," the Master Hand continued, "I don't think it's necessary for me to say what reason it was for, other than the fact that it was something that anyone of you might have gotten angry over."

Mewtwo looked totally calm as the hand said this. Junior looked closely at the psychic Pokémon, thinking back to how strangely Mewtwo has been acting around him lately. Does he know?, Junior thought. Does he know about

(you were never meant to be good)

(you were born to be the undoing of countless worlds, to rule all of the universe, and crush any who stop you)

(the time is soon… for your end, and my beginning)

whatever it is that was happening to him?

"Mewtwo has already accepted punishment for his action, and is now absolved of all the charges made against him."

The hand looked up at the clock, causing many of the other smashers to do so as well. It was 7:15. The hand had been talking for almost a whole hour. "One last thing before everyone is dismissed," the Master Hand said, "Link's funeral will be held three days from now. I expect all of you to be there to pay your respects to him and honor the memories you have of his life."

More silence. Birds were chirping in the trees by the windows, and the sun was finally fully shining over the horizon. It looked to be a very pleasant day.

"Alright," the Hand said, "You're all dismissed."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

At 5:00 in the morning, Bowser was sitting on rock within one of the forests that surrounds Smash Mansion. It was a quiet little grove, one that Bowser visited whenever he needed to be alone. He looked awful. His hair was scraggily and messy, he had a terrible early-morning odor, and he had enormous bags underneath his blood-veined eyes. Not that he cared. In all honesty, his appearance was about the last thing he was worried about right now.

He did not sleep at all last night, something unusual in its self for him, as he typically slept like a rock. He had spent endless hours in bed, staring at the ceiling as if an interesting book was printed on it, and thinking over and over about what Mewtwo had said to him. Even after all of those hours he spent thinking in the dark, he could still hardly believe what he had been told.

His son had become the vessel of dark energy. And according to Mewtwo, this was not just any dark energy. Oh no, it wasn't like the garden variety kind of dark energy that that was as common to young children as colds and the chickenpox. It was apparently the kind that, according to Mewtwo, might be the cause for some concern over. Bowser laughed at this thought, a pathetic kind of sound that was totally foreign to him. But in his defense, it was a laughable thought. Junior? His young son who loved to paint and play golf and still believed in things like Santa Clause and the Tooth fairy? Containing evil forces of darkness and destruction the likes of which the world has never seen? He was still half expecting someone to jump out and cry 'April fools!' on him.

He was shivering a little bit. It was very cold out, but Bowser actually didn't mind. When he was a child, his father had told him that a cold morning always meant that a beautiful day was ahead. His eyes narrowed. A beautiful day. How could any day ever seem beautiful to him again, knowing what he did now? Once, he might have enjoyed a beautiful day like this, perhaps by going out and spending time with his son. They might have played tag, or baseball, or maybe even gone swimming in Smash Lake. Or maybe they might have just done nothing. He and his son, sitting outside, just enjoying the bright sunshine and the cool breeze, would have made him just as happy as long as he was able to do it with Junior. Now, the beauty that the coldness promised him this morning only served to mock the mortal pain that was in his heart.

Snarling in frustration, he suddenly punched a nearby tree so violently that it left a deep imprint of his fist in the bark. Blood trickled down his knuckle, but he didn't care. Why was this happening? Why? He didn't understand it. He wasn't an expert on dark energy, but he was educated enough on the subject to know that the kind of dark energy that a terrified a guy like Mewtwo didn't just pop into young kids all of a sudden. It just didn't happen.

That is, unless they've been possessed by something. Like a demon. Or something even worse. Bowser shuddered. In a cruel world, seeing your son succumb to the possession of a malevolent entity and having to watch as its evil infects them like an incurable cancer is just about the worst thing imaginable. He felt the helplessness swell up inside of him, festering within him like a gangrenous wound. He felt totally alone. After all, who was there to go to that might provide him comfort, or, even better, might provide some for his son? Not Peach, who was perfectly willing to make her son feel both worthless and unwanted (she'd might even blab about it for the attention if I told her, he thought angrily). Not the Master Hand, as he was positive Mewtwo had already explained the situation to him. He supposed Krystal was a possibility, but then again, did he really want to serve that information to the person Junior has been growing a maternal connection to when even he, his father, couldn't view him the same way anymore? No. It was probably best that he kept this information completely to himself.

You're going to have to tell him eventually…

The echo of Mewtwo's words hit him, and suddenly he was furious again. Did Mewtwo think that was so simple? Did he think that for a father to tell his son that he is destined to such a horrible fate is as easy as asking him how his day was? To see the look of hopelessness in his eyes as he realized that no one, not even his father, could help him? What the hell gave Mewtwo the right to ask him such a thing?

Why, the truth, of course, he thought miserably. That was what gave Mewtwo the right. The ever beautiful and hateful bitch-goddess that we call the truth. Didn't a man with cancer have a right to know that he was almost certainly going to die from it? Yes. Didn't a person in a car accident have the right to know that they'll never be able walk again? Yes. Didn't a woman whose baby had died during birth have a right to know that she had been left childless? Of course yes.

Then didn't his son have a right to know about the black power that he contained?

A cardinal perched atop a nearby tree, its little chest puffed out as it proudly sang its beautiful tune. Bowser ignored it.

He had to do it. He had been able to put it off by saying that he's too happy right now to be given such information, but that excuse wouldn't hold for long. Eventually, he was going to have to tell Junior what was happening to him.

And that's when the horrible realization finally hit him.

"Will I be able to tell him?" Bowser whispered.

His question was answered only by the singing of the cardinal. There, in the cold thicket bathed by the light of the early dawn, the great Koopa King covered his face with his hands, and began to weep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The hunter sped towards his client's planet. He had obviously heard of Earth before, but this was the first time he had ever actually traveled there. Upon seeing it, he had to admit, it was a very pretty planet: green forests, white clouds, several large oceans and capped with large glacial poles. Deserts, plains, jungles, mountains, sparkling cities. A very nice planet. If it wasn't for its warlike inhabitants, it would have been the perfect planet for him to conquer, too. Oh well.

"This is K-Tr, approaching destination," the hunter said into the speaker, "You hearin' me, Freakful?"

"That's Fawful you idiot!" a shrill, nasally voice answered over the intercom, "And you were supposed to address me by my code name so my identity can remain a secret!"

"Was I?" the hunter mused, "Must have slipped my mind. Well, I guess it doesn't matter, anyway, seeing as you just blabbed your name over the airwaves there."

Angry grumbling was his only response. The hunter grinned.

"So, are we still on for this thing? No changes of heart, I hope?"

"Of course we're still on, you dolt!" the speaker buzzed, "If my mistress and I no longer required your 'services' do you think I'd still be here wasting my valuable time talkingto the likes of you? Idiot!"

"Whoa, calm down there," the hunter soothed, "You know, you're taking this thing way to seriously, my friend. There's really no reason to get so upset."

"Upset!" the intercom shrieked, "Listen here you spindly Cyclops, if you screw this job up for my mistress, she'll see to it that you won't even be able to get a job shooting paper targets at the carnival!"

The hunter rolled his eye.

"Your cheerful voice and kind words are only surpassed by your dazzling good looks, my friend," the hunter said wistfully, causing the intercom to go through another series of shrieks. Geeze, the hunter thought, the guy's gonna give himself an ulcer with that kind of temper. He listened as the intercom spouted a string of horrid threats and profanities for quite a while, all the time having a very amused grin on his face.

"Look," the hunter said as the intercom finally quieted, "You just tell your boss that she's got absolutely nothing to worry about. I'm the best shot in the whole biz, good buddy."

"For your sake, you'd better hope so!" the intercom screamed once again, "We payed for a cold blooded killer to see to someone's death, not some disrespectful fink-rat that treats it all like a joke!"

"…"

"ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME!"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I hear you loud and clear, Finkful. Anyway, I'm just about to enter the atmosphere now. I'll see you at the rendezvous point."

"THAT'S FAWF-!"

He turned off the intercom, enjoying the silence. A guy could only take so much 'sunshine' in one sitting, after all. He unfortunately met a lot of guys like that in his trade; apparently, the only proper way to act as a bounty hunter is to behave like little more than a robot with absolutely no fun or humor at all. Yes, a lot of previous employers had chewed him out over his mannerisms, but none of them ever complained after he got down to the actual business. In a trade where only the very best are hired, skills are far more important than a hard-ass personality.

"And I've definitely got the skills," the hunter said, grinning.

His target was an interesting one. He was a Pokémon (Whatever that is, he thought), and one that was apparently very famous even outside of Earth. Going by the name of Mewtwo, this Pokémon, according to his client's file, possessed incredible intelligence and had powers that ranged from teleportation to telekinesis. His life history was a tapestry of anger and rejection, and his personality was, to quote, "unique". Actually, he sounded like a very interesting guy. And to him, it was always more fun knowing that the person he was going to kill was interesting. Who wants to kill a boring guy, anyway?

"Nearing landing site", his ship's onboard computer said.

"Yeah, yeah, I can see that, you piece of junk," the hunter said, still with a grin.

This client was paying some serious moolah to ice this Mewtwo person, so he supposed that it would be wise to be on his "best behavior" when he greeted her, especially considering how well he ticked off Mr. Sunshine just now. Sighing contently, he activated his ship's landing equipment and waited for his ship to land. As he was nearing the ground, he had a change of heart. Aw, the hell with it, he thought with a full smile, Sorry, Miss Cackletta, but you're little lackey is just too much fun to screw around with.

So much for good first impressions.

(AN: I'm baaaack. It's NFE7 here again, back with a freakishly overdue chapter of "A Koopa's Story." As usual, I'd like to thank Bowser Junior Nutt, I couldn't have done this without him. Stay tuned for the next chapter!"