Chapter 1: The 1000 Year Decision
Alone in the void, in a time before time, lay Master Hand. Bored with an existence alone, he created the Upper Kingdoms and their inhabitants, the Originals. Next, he created Pokemon as the perfect companions. After all that, he was content. However, as the eons passed and he became restless once more, he pondered if creating was truly the cure for the void in his being. Perhaps, was violence the answer?
So in his search for peace, he created the Super Smash Bros. Tournament. As Original turned against Original, the forming Pantheons essentially went to war, and once only one Original was left standing, the Hand fought the winner himself. Despite being the creator of the universe, it was obvious that his power was surpassed, as he soon found himself defeated. In his final moments, he created the Lower Kingdoms filled with Trophies for the victorious Originals to govern. However, every thousand years, a vote takes place to decide the fate of the Trophies.
As the Council of Skyworld gathered for this very occasion, two Pokemon watched as the Nine Pantheons took their places to vote on the destruction of all of Trophy-kind. The large, circular room was centered by a large throne shaped like a turtle with a wooden round block built in. As the final Originals found their seats, a shorter man in overalls took his place in the throne, his small frame trembling with the weight of a massive gavel. He chuckled to himself as he looked across the Council.
"Well then, everyone," he began, stroking his mustache with his free hand. "It's been an eventful 1,000 years. So, let'sa go, shall we?" The gavel touched the round block, and the room quieted in respect for the Chairman of the Council and leader of the First Pantheon, Mario.
"As I was saying," Mario continued, "regarding the survival of Trophies. I'm sure you know the drill. Vote yes, and the civilizations of the Lower Kingdoms will survive another 1,000 years. Vote no, and we put an end to them." A drone of voices overcame the room, only to be silenced by a single voice.
"I say we cut our losses and end 'em now," said Fox, leader of the Fifth Pantheon. He had his metallic legs perched up on the table with a laid back posture. "Trophies have only gotten worse over the last 1,000 years, and I think if we give 'em another 1,000, they'll not only kill themselves, but take everything else with 'em."
"What Fox says is true," cut in another voice, belonging to Princess Peach of the First Pantheon. She sat on a throne held up by Koopas and Goombas, a distant look on her face. "The Lower Kingdoms have become so ugly and polluted, and extinction has come to countless species." Her features contorted in disgust. "It can truly be said that Trophies are a deplorable cancer."
The first of the two Pokemon, Pichu, looked horrified at the words of Fox and Peach, and her face was coated in fear as the murmur of the crowd came to agree with the sentiments shared. As she nervously played with her tail, the second of the Pokemon, Gardevoir, simply continued to watch with a blank face.
As the votes came in, and the votes for the destruction of the Trophies piled up, Mario's small smile grew larger. "Hmmm," he voiced while stroking his mustache, and as the final vote came in, it was clear the will of the Originals was to end all of Trophy-kind. And the will of the Originals was impossible to reverse.
"I guess," Mario stated, raising the gavel once more, "we have come to an agreement. The end of Trophy-kind is deci-"
"Please wait a second!" Gardevoir cut in, causing Pichu to seize up in surprise.
The gavel stopped an inch from the round block, as Mario tilted his head. An angry droll overcame the Originals as the source of the disturbance was found to be a Pokemon, considered a halfway between an Original and a Trophy. As hostility began to be vocalized towards the duo, Pichu hid behind Gardevoir.
"What the heck are you doing?" Pichu questioned, trembling as she held onto Gardevoir's leg. But Gardevoir merely continued.
"Pardon my intrusion, merciful Originals, for there is something I must say."
"Mind your manners, Gardevoir!" called out a small glowing ball perched on the shoulder of Zelda, leader of the second Pantheon. The small ball was the fairy Navi, who angrily continued. "You stupid halfling! How dare you dirty this conference with your presence?!" Zelda stared at Gardevoir, her eyes seemingly boring through the Pokemon's body.
Unphased, Gardevoir went on. "It may be true that Trophies are more trouble than they're worth. But to destroy them just like that… isn't that just a little…
"Boring?"
Zelda's posture shifted to one of intrigue, as did the rest of the Originals.
"It doesn't matter," Gardevoir said, "if their survival is of any value. But why not, with all your mercy and might, test them?"
"And how would you suggest that?" Navi interjected. "With a flood? Maybe a plague? Or a solar flare?"
"No. I have a much more effective way of testing them. The grand tournament that was held by Master Hand eons ago…
"The Super Smash Bros Tournament."
With all attention fully on her, Gardevoir brought out the book of laws governing the Council. "Article no. 64, paragraph 5. As explained here, the Super Smash Bros. Tournament sees 15 combatants from two sides. The first side to eight wins is victorious." Everyone knew of the tournament that had solidified the power of the current leadership eons ago. If the Trophies won, they would survive another 1,000. But to use the tournament against the Trophies was unheard of, because it was assumed there was no possible way the Trophies could ever hope to win a single match.
The Originals were silent, before Navi's screeching voice pierced the hall once more. "That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard of," the fairy laughed, holding her stomach on Zelda's shoulder. "Trophies are no match for the Originals!" She sat up, her face now deathly serious. "Your proposal is pointless." The other Originals voiced their agreement with the fairy, but Gardevoir merely smirked.
"It sounds to me, oh mighty Originals…" she put her finger to her chin as if pondering, "that you wish to avoid direct confrontation with Trophies? It's as if destroying them without fighting them is easier for you. Are you, perhaps, chickening out?"
Her words rang throughout the halls. Pichu stared at Gardevoir, beyond disbelief. But as she was about to voice her concern to Gardevoir, she heard a small laugh from Fox. Then from Peach. The small laughter, as if from an irritated father playing along with their child's lame prank, echoed amongst the Originals. Pichu sighed in relief. "So they're not angry?" she asked, before becoming aware of the tense air of the room. To even think of thinking that the Originals feared the Trophies was the greatest humiliation they could face.
"Ohohoho," Mario laughed, his white gloves turning red from his gripping the gavel. "It sounds to me that the world needs to be reminded…" He rose the gavel high above his head, a crazed smile on his face. "…The strength of the Originals!" The power in which he swung the gavel down shattered the throne, creating a shockwave that knocked Pichu over and leaving Mario standing in a pile of splinters. He raised his arms up, garnering a cheer from the crowd. "Who's ready to Smash?!"
—
With the tournament fast approaching, Gardevoir wandered the halls of Skyworld, the Ninth of the Pantheons and the location of the tournament. Sunlight shone onto her face between the Greek pillars, giving view to floating islands. Pichu walked quickly behind, her eyes focused on the floor. Eventually, she fell into a sitting position, absolute despair on her face. Gardevoir turned around, sighing. "What's wrong, Pichu?"
Pichu sniffled, looking up at taller Pokemon. "What's even the point? Why did you need to go and anger them, Gardevoir? You're just asking to get killed!"
Gardevoir crouched down, helping Pichu back to her feet. "You are still young, so you might not understand. But," Gardevoir said, placing her hand on Pichu's cheek, "the bond between a Pokemon and a Trophy is greater than that of a Pokemon and an Original." She got back to her feet, continuing onward. "I can't just abandon them, Pichu."
Pichu gazed in awe at the older Pokemon. "So, do you think that Trophies have a chance of winning?"
At this, Gardevoir chuckled. "What a silly question. The Originals-"
"Gardevoir."
The two Pokemon turned around to see a figure towering over them. Instinctively, Gardevoir got on her knees while Pichu panicked.
"Yes, Lord Link?"
'Link?!' Pichu thought. 'The Fierce Deity?! That Link?! I need to kneel, or-'
Link simply stared down at the Pokemon, his pupiless eyes seeming soulless, before walking past them.
"What are you planning, Gardevoir?" he asked, stopping just past them.
"I can't say I know what you're talking about."
Link turned, glowering at the pair, before huffing. "Whatever," he said, continuing to the arena. "Don't disappoint me. Or I'll kill you."
As the Original walked out of view, Pichu let out a sigh of relief. "I don't know how you can stay so calm, Gardevoir. I almost peed myself!"
"I looked calm, huh? That's good."
"Huh?" Pichu questioned, only to see Gardevoir shake violently in terror. "Wha-"
Before she could finish, the other Pokemon stood up, quickly composing herself. "We need to pick out the strongest fighters in the history of Trophy-kind."
"But who could fight against someone so powerful as Link?!"
"I met such a trophy. He's probably the strongest- no, most brutal, terrifying mercenary in history."
Pichu's face went from one of curiosity to one of disbelief. "You're not seriously considering… but he's way too unpredictable!"
—
The Super Smash Bros. Arena, Final Destination, was immense, holding all of the Nine Pantheons on one side and the entirety of Trophy-kind's history on the other. In the middle was a fighting ring, larger than a city and surrounded by what seemed to be an abyss. As the final Trophies and Originals found their seats, a spotlight shone in the middle of the arena, caught on small screens littered throughout the crowd. Lit up by the spotlight was Toad, the announcer of Smash.
'Finally,' he thought, gripping a small microphone. 'I have been waiting for something exciting since forever!'
"The time to open the curtain to the largest event in the history of everything is here!" he called out. "This is a 1v1 to the death!" he explained. "No items! Final Destination! Just two fighters duking it out in the most important fight of their lives!"
"Are.
"You.
READY?!"
Watching from a special room, Pichu gulped. "It's time," she squeaked, looking up at Gardevoir. The taller Pokemon merely watched the small announcer point to a glowing door that appeared near the center of the arena.
"Fighting for the Originals," said Toad, continuing to gesture to the Original's side of the Arena. "Many know him, many love him, and even more fear him." A massive boot steps through the gate, followed by the rest of the large figure. "Everyone is waiting in anticipation to see him at his strongest. It's said his blade can carve mountains!" The figure, Link, swung his Fierce Deity Sword, sheathing it.
"Live for fighting, and die fighting! The Fierce Deity!
"LINK!"
Zelda shifted in her throne from a secluded room overlooking the arena. "Crush and annihilate them," she seethed, Navi fluttering nervously.
"And his challenger!" Toad continued, shifting his attention to a second door further away. From the stands, an army began beating drums.
"Will the history of Trophy-kind be forgotten today?!" Toad cried.
"NO!" the army responded, the rhythm becoming deafening.
"Will the pride of all Trophies be slain with this man?!"
"NO!" they responded again as a figure carrying a coffin exited the door. She was tall with long red hair and shining white armor. Grinning, she set down the coffin, and pointed at Link.
"You Originals have something coming if you think this will be easy," she mocked, before exiting the arena, much to Toad's surprise.
"Wait, where's-" he began, before being interrupted by the coffin shattering. A figure leaped twenty feet into the air before landing in front of the shocked announcer, knocking him down. Standing up, the figure, a muscular man with blue hair and armor, slung a large blade over his shoulder like a baseball bat.
Toad blinked before scrambling to his feet. "Who else could do it but him?! The strongest Trophy warrior since the dawn of time! The Berserker of Crimea! The Leader of the Greil Mercenaries! The Radiant Hero of Legend! It's none other than…
"IKE!"
—
Author's Note: If you don't recognize the premise, this story is a Smashified version of the manga/anime 'Record of Ragnarok'. That doesn't mean that it's a one to one translation though, and as the story goes on, the story will diverge more and more.
Other points, this story will only have Nintendo characters in it, and some characters, like Toad and Gardevoir, aren't necessarily Smash Bros. characters, but all of the fighters barring like one are on the Smash Bros. roster.
Also, characters will not be one to one on how they appear in their games. If you feel like I took them way too far, let me know some points on how I can fix the characterization.
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know anything you thought was cool, anything you think I can improve on, or any theories on who will win and on who is coming next after Link and Ike.
