Author's Disclaimer: I do not own Super Smash Bros or any of the characters involved in it. I am earning no profit from this story, other than the enjoyment of writing it and sharing it with others! I hope you all enjoy reading it!

Cloud woke up again, this time by himself. Without help, it was much harder to stay strong. He was back with Aerith at the Gold Saucer. They walked around and talked and rode the skyline ride, watching the fireworks together, just like they had all those years ago. Until the ride came crashing down, the wires snapping and their car hurtling towards the distant ground. Aerith screamed and cried and Cloud held her close the entire way down, curling his body around hers in a futile attempt to protect her from gravity's heavy toll. It didn't work. They met the ground. Their cart shattered. Scraps of wood dug into Cloud's exposed skin, his bones were crushed from the hard impact, and ultimately his weight was what killed Aerith. He fell unconscious the second that it registered she was dead again.

The next vision was Young Link's. Cloud got to see Malon. She was a pretty little thing, about Young Link's age, maybe a little younger, with vibrant red hair and an easy smile. It was almost cute watching Young Link fight with himself. Even he couldn't resist the desire to give in and let his own family love him. But when Malon stuck a knife through his back, he just shook his head slowly and berated himself for letting his guard down. Cloud hadn't helped much. He just didn't know what to say.

Scenario after scenario after scenario Cloud got pushed through. Some were for him, and others were not. Sometimes he was alone and sometimes he wasn't. Ultimately, it didn't matter much. He tried to stay strong, and despite the fact that he never forgot that it was all fake, every time he brought his sword down on his friends' heads it still hurt. It still hurt watching Marlene and Denzel, knowing that it wasn't really them. He was so close to having them. This machine almost gave him back what he lost. If he gave in and submitted to the torture, he could have his family back. But he didn't. It was fake, he told himself. He let them stab him, let them shoot him, let them hurt him. It was fake. He crushed their ribs, cut open their stomachs, stomped on their corpses. It was fake. But it still hurt like hell.

The other two weren't doing much better. Shulk's eyes were usually red-rimmed from crying, his arms constantly shook, and he almost refused physical contact from anybody, even though he knew Cloud was the only other real person within their torture. Young Link was always angry and always hurt. Whether it be a broken bone, an obvious bullet wound, lattice scars from electricity or whatever else, he was always wounded. His small body couldn't take much more, yet everytime Cloud got to watch one of the kid's scenarios, Young Link just marched himself through the pain to get it over with. He cried as Malon or Talon or his Zelda hurt him. But when it was over he shut off the tears and accepted the shock that jolted him back into unconsciousness. Shulk screamed a lot. Cloud had never known the visionary to be a particularly emotional person, but evidently he was. He couldn't help it. Every time Fiora or Reyn or Dunban got injured, Shulk would run to them and take them in his arms and mumble about how it was going to be okay. Cloud would try to drag him away from the hallucinations, but Shulk would have none of it.

"I haven't seen them in so long," Shulk said angrily at one point as Reyn lay bleeding out on a cliffside. "This is better than nothing. I know it's not real. But it's...it's better than nothing."

Was it? Cloud could clearly remember Tifa's face now. But he still couldn't hear her laugh. He could only hear her screams. Her screams, her taunts as she killed him or he killed her. That was all he got out of this. Was it better than nothing?

Finally, Cloud woke up to a world of white. His illusory realm. Which meant he would be seeing Zack. That might honestly be worse than his kids. He pulled himself to his feet and glanced about the area, taking stock of his surroundings. He was not alone. Shulk was there too. And so was Young Link. All three of them were together. That hadn't happened yet.

"This is new," Young Link muttered, pulling himself to his feet. His latest injury appeared to be a slice across his right thigh, making standing up nearly impossible. Cloud hurried to help him, dragging him to his feet and letting the kid lean against him.

"We don't need anything new," Shulk spat, also clawing his way to a standing position. He had a bruise on his face as though he'd recently been punched. Cloud's only wound as of now was a bullet wound in the arm that Jenova was already hurrying to heal.

"Anybody recognize this place?" Young Link demanded.

Cloud opened his mouth to speak up, but his breath faltered when he saw who was standing around the edge of this illusory realm. "L-look…" was all he could get out, pointing towards their visitors.

Zack, standing with his arms crossed and an easygoing grin on his face. Beside him was Malon, the little girl leaning into the taller SOLDIER as though they'd known each other all their lives. And Fiora, this time appearing as Shulk had described her, a body made of steel, her metallic hands resting on her hips, a slight smile on her lips.

"Looks like Master Hand figured out his thing isn't working," Young Link mumbled.

"And now we all get punished together," Cloud finished.

But how bad could it be, when there were three of them together? Their surroundings were meaningless. The only obstacles would be the illusory figures on the other side of this white world.

Zack spoke first, walking towards Cloud with his arms spread wide. "Long time no see, right, Cloud?"

Cloud just nodded numbly. No doubt the others knew who this was. Their faces softened with pity.

"You look awfully tired," Zack went on. "Being a hero's no joke, is it?"

Cloud shrugged.

Malon stepped forward, placing a hand on Young Link's cheek. He shivered under her touch, but couldn't bring himself to move away. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore her. "You're hurt," she said simply, bending down and running a finger across his thigh gently. Not hard enough to aggravate the wound, but enough to gauge the damage that had been done.

"I'm fine," Young Link muttered, lifting his leg and pulling it out of her reach. His fingers curled around Cloud's cape, and Cloud instinctively rested a hand on his shoulder.

Fiora approached Shulk. The visionary took a step back. "Where are you going, silly?" she demanded. "It's just me."

Zack lowered his gaze to Young Link, getting down on one knee so that he and the child were at eye-level. "Who's this now?"

"Nobody important," Young Link spat.

"Be nice, Link!" Malon scolded.

Young Link shook his head forcefully. "B-both of you get away from me! You're not real, you're not real, you're not real! All you want is to hurt us! So just get away!"

Fiora had been listening too. She chuckled. "My, your little friend is quite feisty, isn't he, Shulk?"

Shulk just stared at the ground.

"Well, you're all looking a little hopeless," Zack noted. "And you know what I think about that, don't you, Cloud?"

"So what if it looks hopeless?" Cloud mumbled numbly. When would this be over? Couldn't Master Hand be done teasing them now? It hurt to see Zack again like this. It hurt Young Link to see Malon. And it hurt Shulk to see Fiora. Couldn't they just be done?

"Nailed it!" Zack agreed. "So, what do you say? You ready to take another shot at that stupid glove? Get back to Tifa and your kids?"

Was Cloud ready? He was more ready than this machine could ever know. But he didn't reply. He just stared at the floor silently.

Malon took Young Link's hands. "Zack's right. You have to beat Master Hand and come home! I'm waiting!"

"Listen to her," Fiora agreed, elbowing Shulk. "Just don't give it up, alright?"

The three boys exchanged nervous glances. Where was the torture? The emotional pain, the insensitive and personal insults, the betrayal of trust? This was just...almost encouraging.

"Come on," Zack said, offering Cloud his hand. "Everything you're waiting for is just beyond this wall. Look up."

Cloud did as he was told. His lips parted in surprise; he could see the ceiling of his room in the mansion, but also Young Link and Shulk's. It was similar to the ending of his original torture two years ago. The three of them were asleep in their beds. All they needed to do was wake up.

Young Link looked up too. His eyes narrowed. "No way it's that easy. No way we just need to wake up."

Shulk glanced at the strange, illusory sky. "We're stuck in our own heads now."

"Then let's get out," Cloud said. He followed Zack to the corner of the white world, but his shoulders were tense. Was this to go exactly as it did the first time he was here? Was he going to kill Zack again? Worse, was he going to kill Malon and Fiora too?

Young Link limped along behind him. When Cloud paused just before the edge of the world, peering down into what seemed like infinite darkness, the hero stepped up. "Jump," Young Link said. "It's not that hard. Then we can wake up."

"Be my guest," Cloud muttered, not daring to take another step.

"Scared?" Young Link teased. He moved to jump off the edge. But his hand brushed an invisible barrier separating him, Cloud, and Shulk from whatever lay beyond this white hallucination.

"Well?" Zack demanded. "What are you waiting for?"

"Come on, Link," Malon encouraged. "Go on."

Shulk gave it a shot, pushing his hand against the unseen wall to no avail. "Don't be scared, Shulk," Fiora pushed.

Then the sky around them blackened. All six of them tensed, whirling around and searching for the source of the disruption. Master Hand appeared in the center of the realm, floating there menacingly, disapproval radiating from him in waves.

"Well, well. There we all are," he said, his voice coming from everywhere and nowhere within his own machine. "I feel as though I should apologize for your rather unorthodox conditioning. My device simply isn't equipped to handle three people, but you all were just so terribly naughty I had no choice."

Cloud grit his teeth. Young Link vibrated with rage. Shulk clenched his fists. Their three companions stared up at Master Hand with various expressions; Zack glared up at him alongside Cloud. Malon moved to hide behind Young Link. Fiora too stood defiantly at Shulk's side.

"I also feel the need to remind you that despite your misconceptions of free will and your delusional goal of eventual escape, all three of you are nothing but my toys to play with," Master Hand went on.

Shulk screamed. Cloud whirled around, facing him. The seer was staring down at his own hands. Plastic enveloped them, his joints turning rigid and losing their feeling, as though he truly was just a helpless doll. The sickly plastic coating spread from his fingertips and advanced across his hands and down his arms.

Cloud watched in horror. Young Link did too. Then the kid cried out in agony, his hands clawing at his back and his fingers shaking from pain. Cloud now stared at him, almost afraid to watch. Metal advanced from under his tunic, consuming his arms and his legs and climbing up the rest of his body. From Young Link's back emerged a metal gear, the kind used to wind up and release wind-up toys. It tore through his tunic and threw blood all over the place, at least until Young Link's flesh and blood was replaced by metal and wires.

And then Cloud felt his arm go numb. He turned his gaze on his right arm, watching wood overtake his skin. He gnashed his teeth as puppet strings erupted from his shoulder blades, his elbows, behind his knees, and his neck, extending up and up and up beyond his field of vision. The wood continued to crawl up his arm, leaving him unable to move it or feel it or anything. Beside him, Shulk was completely immobilized. The visionary looked like nothing more than an oversized plastic figurine now. His entire body was glazed over by plastic to the point that even his hair sat rigidly on his head. His joints were replaced by crude plastic overlaps that allowed for some motion, but not at Shulk's command. His eyes were void, looking down at his splayed fingers in what must've once been terror but was now just a hollow stare. The Monado remained hard steel on its wielder's back, but it was the only thing spared a coating of plastic.

Young Link too was done in. Metal had entirely overtaken his body. His skin was shiny, his muscles were rigid, and his elbows and knees now had screws sticking in them. It was disgusting. The gear on his back would likely allow for some motion, but again not at his own command.

And Cloud was about to join them. The wood got across his arm and spread down his torso and across his legs. His arm fell limp, and he knew he wouldn't be using it unless Master Hand made him. His legs were consumed, and he found himself suspended by the strings on his shoulders and not held up by his own feet. Now the wood crawled up his face. It covered one of his eyes, and he had hoped he'd go blind. But no, he could still see. He could still hear too. He couldn't feel anything, but he could see and he could hear. Even his thick hair turned to nothing more than heavy blocks of wood under Master Hand's order, and finally Cloud's transformation was complete. His head drooped, the string attached to the back of his neck not currently having a holder. He stared at the floor, his eyes able to see his entire body. It was simply disgusting. Hard wood instead of skin. String instead of tendons within his fingers to provide motion. The scar on his chest, still visible through the hole in his usual outfit, had also been outlined in light wood with red paint. He truly was an empty puppet.

Their three visitors moved to inspect their respective fighters with morbid curiosity. Master Hand let them. Zack waved a hand over Cloud's eyes, but Cloud just couldn't respond. This wasn't real, he was screaming at himself. It wasn't real. He was just imagining this. But he was panicking. He'd never been so powerless. So helpless. Sure, he'd lost control of his own body before. But he'd never had his body taken from him like this!

For a moment, the fighters and those they cherished most stood opposite each other, horror obvious on the three illusions' faces.

"What have you done?" Zack demanded of Master Hand at last.

And Master Hand laughed. "I'm simply outlining the truth for them. This is my world, SOLDIER boy. And sometimes I fear they forget that. At the end of the day, I am the master of this world. You all are nothing but pawns in my own game! And I thought that maybe you should look the part."

Silence reigned the room. Young Link would've likely loved to respond, but trapped with a body of steel he was unable to.

"Your families. Your friends. Your loved ones," Master Hand went on. "You are right. I did take them from you. And you're never getting them back. The only world you'll know from now until the end of time itself will be this one; the mansion. Where I am in charge of what you can and cannot do. Where I decide what you get to eat everyday. Where I decide who sleeps where. Where I make every decision you'll ever have again for you. Because in my world, I am the only one in charge! You all are nothing! Your friends and family mean nothing! And I'll prove it to you. One by one, you'll personally strike down the ones you care for most. Because I told you to. And you have no choice."

Master Hand approached Shulk first. Cloud was unable to watch even if he wanted to. His head hung limply, suspended only by the string that extended from it, he could only stare at the ground. But he could hear just fine. It seemed that Master Hand just picked Shulk up off the ground. The fighters were already small enough compared to the enormous glove to be handled without much care. For a moment, the sound of plastic squeaking across itself occupied the room. Then the sound of the Monado's blade flashing into existence, and the low whir of the machinery that kept it active. And finally, Fiora's scream. Cloud could see out of the corner of his eye sparks flying and metal going everywhere as the Bionis's blade tore apart the Mechonis's metal that was keeping Fiora alive. The girl screamed and screamed, the Monado's blade tearing apart her mechanical body, spare parts flying everywhere in the place of blood. Eventually, the scream died out and Fiora lay dead on the ground, a hole carved in her stomach from the electric blade of Shulk's special sword. And Shulk didn't make a sound. He couldn't. Inside, Cloud was certain he was screaming with everything he had. But outwardly, he stood silently, stuck holding his blade out in front of him, unable to so much as power it off without Master Hand's assistance.

But Master Hand left him. Master Hand left him staring down at his best friend's corpse, left the sword that had done it active in his hands, left him to stop and think about what exactly he'd just done.

Young Link's turn. Cloud could see a little better. The ex-mercenary could just barely see the hero out of his peripheral vision. Master Hand floated over him, adjusting his metallic joints until he was standing with his sword drawn and clutched tightly in his left hand. Malon stood opposite him, shaking terribly, but unwilling or perhaps unable to move. Master Hand moved to the gear sticking out of Young Link's back. He wound it up a few times, then let it go. Mechanical buzzing accompanied every one of the Hylian's tense movements. His steps were stiff and awkward, but he wasn't going to fall over, which was almost a shame. His sword swung up and down as both his arms moved with every turn of the gear in his back that now controlled his entire body.

Cloud wished he could've closed his eyes or averted his gaze or anything, but he was stuck in this position, and he wouldn't be moving until Master Hand himself ordained it. So he got to watch when Young Link reached Malon. His sword slicing up and down across the scared girl's torso, the gear continuing to spin, the kid's face terrifyingly void. The Kokiri Blade dug a deep gash in Malon's stomach. Blood fell from the wound, covering Young Link's slick arm and leaving a trail of red on his otherwise shiny body. It didn't take long before Malon collapsed before him, but his gear kept spinning, and he stomped on her corpse. His gear stopped spinning. He stopped walking, standing in a pool of his friend's blood, her dead body just behind him, killed by his own hand. And yet he could not cry out or scream or cuss or anything. He just had to take it lying down. For Young Link, that was probably the worst part.

And now Cloud's turn. Master Hand came to him. Zack had watched the other two deaths and knew what was awaiting him. But he didn't have the Buster Sword with him. Cloud did right now. He carried it with him here in the mansion as a reminder to never lose hope. But now it would be used to kill the one who taught him that. This was all fake, Cloud reminded himself as Master Hand took hold of his strings and raised his head so that he was staring at Zack, who stood with his arms crossed over his chest and his lips pulled into a tight line. There was no reason to run. Where could he go? And he was already dead, Cloud told himself. This is fake. He would wake up in his bed after this. Or maybe in another illusion. He didn't care. Anything was better than this.

Master Hand made Cloud draw the Buster Sword, the tip pointed straight at Zack's chest. Cloud had no choice but to obey. He couldn't verbally object, he couldn't mentally fight, he couldn't do anything except what Master Hand told him to.

"You're really doing this," Zack muttered. Cloud wasn't sure who he was talking to.

"Forget about him, empty puppet," Master Hand whispered. "He's dead. And to you, so are the others; Tifa and the kids. They're just as dead as Aerith and Zack to you. They're alive in their world. But you're never going back there. This is your home now. Where I own you."

Cloud walked forward, the Buster Sword gripped in both hands. Zack didn't move. Cloud wanted to beg him to run, but he still couldn't. The Buster Sword aligned itself again, poised just an inch above Zack's uniform. "Say goodbye to your past, Cloud Strife," Master Hand urged. "It doesn't mean anything here."

And then Cloud brought Zack's sword forward, through its rightful wielder's chest. Blood went everywhere. Zack fell to his knees, his eyes glowing green with Jenova's power as his inhuman cells rushed to aid him. He could survive a single stab. So Cloud did it again, pressing the sword through his stomach and twisting it around until Zack was on the floor screaming. Cloud had never heard him scream. Not even as he battled Shinra's army, he'd never heard Zack scream. But the SOLDIER was screaming now. Because Cloud was killing him again.

Zack writhed and Cloud just kept twisting. His blade tore apart organs, bones, and tissue until finally Zack lay silently on the ground. Cloud wanted to cry. He wanted to fall to his knees and scream and swear and cry. But he couldn't. Just the same as the other two, he was left to stare at his own destruction. He stared down at Zack's corpse, his torso almost unrecognizably torn apart, blood everywhere, agony written on his face in death. For several minutes, Cloud was forced to just stare down at what he'd done. He couldn't even close his eyes. Blood was on his blade and his wooden hands. But he couldn't feel it.

Finally, he was shocked into unconsciousness. That he could feel. This was fake. And then he blacked out.