An alarm buzzed noisily at 7:00 in the morning. Said alarm was promptly turned off as beefy fingers fell upon the device. Heavy Weapons Guy rose from his bed, stretching his bulky frame. It was a pleasant surprise that his sleep schedule was not disrupted from his new life as a Smasher. The quality of the bed he was sleeping in was more than adequate, though Misha lamented the lack of a suitable resting place for his beloved Mini-guns.
Such an investment could come later. He had a personal schedule to keep.
"Hmm..." Heavy stepped onto the floor, stretching once more to get the sluggishness out of his body. It was time for his old morning routine: when he still worked as a mercenary for Mann Co.
After taking a bathroom break, he made his way outdoors. Out in the Sun, Mikhail spent some time doing athletic stretches and took a short jog around the gardens near the Smash Mansion. A few Smashers and mansion staff members who were out and about were mildly surprised to see the newcomer exercising outside of the Training Mode. However, none wished to interrupt the innocent constitutional, and Heavy contently hummed an old song of his homeland.
After this warm up jog, Heavy moved on to strength training. As he had no weights or other such objects to practice lifting, he resorted to practicing hefting Sasha in his arms. Although Heavy did not gain any burn in his arm from the second nature action, he gained a mental note on the speed of his draw-time. Once this half hour of early exercise was complete, he returned to his flat to take a shower.
Next came breakfast, Heavy enjoyed a large plate with plentiful foodstuffs with high nutrient content. He piled several pieces of fruit, namely two bananas, orange slices, and a mess of blueberries. Protein was covered with ham and a large serving of scrambled eggs. All of this was washed down with a large glass of water and a supplementary cup of straight black coffee with no sugar or cream added. Mikhail enjoyed himself thoroughly, loving the bitter cup of caffeine as it went down his throat.
One last trip to his living quarters related to teeth brushing and a final double check of his effects before departing. There was still time before the mandatory 10:00 meeting would commence, so Mikhail spent time wandering the corridors of the Smash Mansion. His mind began formulating a schedule that would best satisfy his fellow mercenaries once they were free to be guided throughout the area.
The most troublesome members of the entourage would doubtless be Scout, Soldier, and Pyro. The former was a reckless young man with a mouth that was prone to talk him into trouble. Having to get involved in a rivalrous battle with King K. Rool reminded Heavy that it was a far greater tool to listen more and talk less.
Perhaps this lesson was what encouraged him to take Scout under his guidance: the complete understanding that Scout's arrogant and irritating personality would inflame at least some of his new associates in the world of Super Smash Bros. It would be a rough process to keep Scout in line, but he was better equipped than most to make Jeremy behave.
Soldier was arguably even more difficult than Scout. Whereas the latter was a braggart and a smartass, the former was a violent, jingoistic lunatic. It did not take much to get Soldier to fly off the handle on one of his "patriotic" rages. Much more than Scout, he would need the diplomatic support of Engineer and Demoman to contain Soldier's more violent tendencies.
Pyro was the one mercenary with the greatest capacity for collateral damage. Although Soldier and Demoman had their explosives, and he had his beloved Mini-guns, nothing to match the indiscriminate devastation of Pyro's flamethrower when it was active. To say that the mumbling mercenary was terrifying was to grossly underestimate that perception. Engineer's ability to be civil with the professional pyromaniac would be essential to keeping it in line.
Medic was another matter, his maniacal fascination with biology and physiology would undeniably be off-putting. Healing was but an unexpected side effect from his technocratic experimentation and flagrant violations of every code of ethics conceived by mankind. The doctor would have a field day just from ogling the numerous creatures and persons that Heavy had gained an acquaintanceship with.
'Tetha would be person of interest for doctor.' Misha could not help but feel a sense of protectiveness over the inkling. She could handle herself, but he wondered if she had any interactions with anyone as zealous and heedless as Medic.
"Must make it clear to doctor that Smashers are comrades and opponents in competition in sport of fighting. Not for saws and little needles." He murmured privately. A special eye would have to be kept on Medic at all times. Even a stern warning about his conduct might not be enough.
'Heavy hopes it will not come to anything. If I must babysit stupid baby teammates, so be it.' Now physically and mentally prepared for a long day ahead, Heavy gathered Sasha and departed early for the mandatory meeting.
Mario arrived early at the Smash Mansion Theatre Room. It was expected that he or another designated Smasher be present first and foremost to get things set up. This was not a difficult process, as it mostly revolved around setting up chairs for the dozens of other Smashers. When he stepped inside the room, he was surprised to see that Heavy was also there.
The giant mercenary had already pulled out a rotating seat and was sitting on it with his powerful arms crossed. From looking at the downward canting of his head, an observer would have thought Heavy was napping, but the strongman was merely resting his eyes while accounting for possible scenarios in which his fellow mercenaries made fools of themselves, or worse.
'Teammates can be stupid. If Heavy needs to restrain them, then so be it. Although...' Mikhail's thoughts were interrupted as a pair of plumber boots plodded against the ground, approaching from behind his position.
"Heavy? What are are you-a doing here?" Mario's tenor was unmistakable.
Heavy lifted his head, craning a look backwards. "Heavy had nothing better to do. I will stay here until meeting has concluded."
"Ah, that is-a fine. I'll just be-a setting up the room in preparation for the other Smashers."
Just as Mario went in the direction of the storage closest, he heard Heavy shift behind him. The mercenary had risen to his feet.
"Heavy will help you. In turn, I wish to give warning about teammates."
Mario stared at Heavy curiously. He had a vague notion of the unusual character of the newcomers from Heavy's world based on the recent letter sent by Master Hand, but he wondered whether Heavy could provide some much needed additional insight into the other mercenaries.
"Well, that sounds-a like a fair exchange. Let's-a go set up. Follow me."
When Samus arrived just five minutes later, she was surprised to see that half of the seats had already been set up. She was even more nonplussed to see that it was Heavy Weapons Guy who was lending his exceptional muscle for such a mundane task as setting up the theatre room for an update conference.
"Hello, Samus!" Mario greeted her warmly. "Heavy has-a decided to lend a hand."
"I can see."
Heavy strode in, easily carrying half a dozen seats in a jumble in his arms. With surprising care, he grabbed the chairs one by one and set them down as carefully as one would to build the foundation of a house of cards. When he spotted the power suit wearing bounty hunter, he gave a simple wave and continued on back to the storage room acquire more seats.
"He arrive before me?" Samus asked.
"Actually," Mario explained, brushing his gloved hands off, "he was-a the first to be here."
"Why?"
"Apparently Heavy had-a nothing better to do." Mario shrugged. "He has-a information about his fellow Team Fortress 2 mercenaries. They will be-a joining us, after all."
"Is Heavy worried about how introductions will go? After what happened yesterday, it was a small miracle it only ended up with a duel of honor, to call it that." Samus privately thought the whole affair with King K. Rool was needless drama. All the same, she could understand the temptation to fight someone over pride, as unprofessional as it was.
"Maybe. We won't know until he tells us. Care to give us a hand. It will-a speed up the process."
"Of course. You need only ask."
With three Smashers, including a Heavyweight working together, the setup took less than eight minutes total. There was still well over a half hour to go before the deadline of attendance. At this point, Heavy approached Mario and Samus, eager to divulge his concerns.
"Heavy wishes to tell you about teammates. Things that might make for trouble."
Mario nodded gravely. "Go ahead, Heavy."
"Three teammates are most likely to make introductions very bad. They are Scout, Soldier, and Pyro. You saw them during little movie that played before Heavy arrived, ya?"
"What do they look like?" Samus inquired.
"Scout is little man with earpiece and bat. Is very quick, and has mouth big enough for entire kulebyaka. Scout can talk himself into trouble very quick, and is quick to insult others. Heavy knows this firsthand."
Mario nodded along, recalling the skinny young man from the trailer who could jump several times in the air with a shotgun-like weapon in his hands. "We'll keep that-a in mind. What about the Soldier."
"Soldier wears helmet and uses rocket launcher. He loves America to point of madness. Little Soldier hates anything he thinks is not American, to the point of violence. Heavy is prepared to restrain him if things go wrong."
Samus and Mario became much more alarmed at this news. Soldier's volatile personality was concerning enough, but knowing his aggressive jingoism could explode over anything non-American when most of the Smashers hailed from worlds that did not have the United States was a disaster waiting to happen.
"Are you sure he is-a that bad?" Mario asked in mild disbelief.
"Yes." Came the blunt reply. "Best to inform everyone to say that they are from America. Soldier is idiot, and can be fooled without hardship. Heavy will still be prepared to restrain him with bare hands, so I will be at front of audience."
Samus perked up. "That may not be necessary." She whispered into Mario's ear. The plumber's face lit up with understanding as her plan came to him. After seconds of deliberation, Mario nodded up at her. He then turned to face Mikhail.
"We think we have-a the perfect Smasher to deal with Soldier's impulses. Don't worry Heavy. We have a plan in mind."
"Are you sure this will work?"
"Yes." Samus answered. "Even Soldier won't be able to resist what we have in mind."
The sheer confidence in the bounty hunter's voice was striking. Heavy merely nodded, satisfied for now that there were two contingency plans for a violent introduction with the Soldier. "That leaves Pyro. It wears gas mask, with flamethrower in its hands."
"What about this Pyro?" Mario could not help but notice how remarkably similar the mercenary's name was to one of the two halves of the powerful Aegis. It also did not escape his ears that Heavy referred to his associate as a thing, rather than a person.
"Pyro is potentially the worst of all of them. It's love of fire is very dangerous. It would not think twice to burn little Smashers alive."
Mario paled. Even with his prior experience with King Bowser's fire breath, he was terrified of the thought that his cohorts could be attacked out of nowhere. "Perhaps I should attempt to-a make contact with Master Hand to-a guarantee that Pyro cannot summon his weapons while on the mansion."
"That is only part of problem." Heavy stated gravely.
Samus looked through her visor with confusion. "What do you mean?"
"Pyro does not do well without fire. Sooner or later it will find way to get flame, try to ignite something. Pyro gets violent when denied fire... or little animals."
"Animals?" Mario worried about the implication of the latter words the strongman had spoken.
"Yes. Pyro has love for itty bitty, baby animals. Puppies or kittens will do best."
Mario and Samus blinked. If the past twenty four hours had taught them anything, it was that newcomers could always surprise them.
"We'll keep that in mind." Samus mused.
"I think I have an idea on how to-a keep Pyro civil." Mario proposed. "We just have to-a wait for the Pokémon Trainer to arrive. I'll explain everything to him."
Heavy furrowed his brow. "What does trainer have that can keep little Pyro from searching for or making fire?"
"You'll see." Mario promised with a wink.
Every other Smasher arrived just in time. Most sat in their own little groups, mostly along familial or friend-based lines. Bowser and his son sat alongside each other and Pit was content to stay by Palutena and his surly doppelgänger. On this day, a familiar inkling girl dragged a chair right next to Heavy Weapons Guy, who sent a relaxed grin towards the humanoid cephalopod.
"Hello, little Tetha."
"Hi Heavy! How was your morning?"
"Heavy took time to do morning routine after waking up. Exercise, wash up, breakfast, then tooth brushing. I came here early to help with set up."
"I'm not much of a morning person. Most inklings are like that. At least these meetings aren't at the crack of dawn. I'd be flipping miserable."
Misha nodded with a deep hum, his eyes settling on the stage before him.
"Your friends are gonna arrive today, aren't they?" Tetha questioned.
To call the other mercenaries "friends" was a bit of a stretch in Mikhail's mind. He respected some more than others, but their relationships were largely professional, often with an undertone of dislike. Otherwise their witty insults and harsh remarks would have been a rarity on the battlefield.
"Heavy hopes introductions will be less eventful than what happened yesterday."
"Oh c'mon." Tetha teased. "You got in a squabble with K. Rool. It's not the worst thing that could've happened. You even got to show off what you were made of in an actual match!"
"Trust me, little Tetha." Heavy warned. "Some teammates are not as civil as I. Be careful when you introduce yourself around other mercenaries."
Tetha glanced at Heavy with a hint of worry. She did receive a verbal warning from Samus as she arrived that some of the newcomers would be volatile, and to be brief and cautious with her words. The inkling thought the word of caution to be a little excessive, but she remembered that she felt quite anxious during the second standoff between Heavy and King K. Rool. Tetha did not shy away from danger, but in an environment that was ill suited for battle, she supposed one could not be too careful.
Just as the day before, everything became silent as the theater curtains pulled back. As if it were the entrance of an abandoned rail tunnel, there was sheer darkness that continued on as if it opened to a great depth.
"Welcome everyone back to the theatre room for another meeting." Boomed the voice of Master Hand. "Today, we shall be introducing the other newcomers as announced in the trailer yesterday. The latest Team Fortress 2 character to join our ranks will introduce himself now."
From out of the darkness, a lanky form strutted forward with considerable bravado and swagger. His outfit shared the same color coding as Heavy, but it was reduced to a red, short sleeved shirt, dark trousers that were tucked at the pant legs within long socks, running sneakers, and a small, gray baseball cap. There several other pieces of gear on his person which made him stand out.
This included a diminutive, similarly dull colored backpack that was strapped on his back with a single strap. In addition, a headset with an earpiece covered his left ear and dog tags hung from a thin necklace around his skinny neck. The young man's hands were covered in athletic tape, and one such hand gripped a slightly dented metal baseball bat.
As soon as the skinny newcomer made his way squarely the beneath the spotlight, he smirked, sizing up the audience. The young man's gaze passed at length over the various women in the room, and blanched at the monsters and powerful men in attendance. When he glanced down onto Heavy, his blue eyes lit up in recognition.
"Heavy?" Scout dropped down from the stage and met him face to face, much to Misha's surprise. "Man am I glad to see you! I was back home gettin' over another job rejection when I saw this letter wedged in the door to ma's house. She read it to me and we didn't really understand what a 'Smash Bros' was so-"
"Scout." Heavy stated in a commanding tone.
Scout gulped, momentarily snapped out of his rambling. "Uh, yeah Heavy?"
"You need to introduce yourself to fellow Smashers."
"Uh, Smashers?" Scout asked, unsure about the term that left his lips.
"Heavy can explain later." Heavy said. "You need to give introduction, and quickly. Other teammates will be coming."
"R-really?" Scout asked, somewhat pleasantly surprised. "Okay! I can definitely introduce myself!"
Scout effortlessly jumped twice into the air to get back on stage, much to the amusement and shock of some in the audience.
"Hey!" Scout proclaimed with typical aggrandizement. "I am the Scout here! In other words, I'm the best class in the frickin' game. Do you know why that is?"
Some in the audience did not even get a chance to reply, for Scout's mouth moved at prodigious speed.
"Okay well, grass grows," Scout began, counting off with the fingers on his bat-less hand, "sun shines, and brudda, I hurt people. I'm a force of nature! Runnin', gunnin', and cappin' the intel like nobody's business! Ain't no other class is gonna do that, and I'm gonna show that same skill right here in uh..."
"Super Smash Bros." Heavy answered, already tiring of Scout's unmatched ability to talk as much as possible.
"Yeah, Super Smash Bros.!" Scout declared. 'Really, what kinda name is that?'
There was a long silence.
"Well, since Scout has introduced himself, let's go through the roll call for our newcomer's benefit."
The question section dragged out a bit longer than expected. Scout was not one for concise descriptions, though he eagerly demonstrated his capabilities to his new associates. He jumped and juked in the air with ease, just as he did as a Mann. Co mercenary, but most were not impressed with the display. All Smashers could attempt the same maneuvers in a battle, albeit with varying degrees of grace.
Scout never hesitated to brag about his "accomplishments," most of which were heavily embellished or instances of him taking credit for team efforts in memorable battles during the lengthy and unforgiving "Gravel Wars" fought between the companies Reliable Excavation and Demolition and Builders League United. Eventually, a combination of Heavy's sternness and Master Hand's own prudence to not dragging out the meeting made Scout begrudgingly cease his story telling and sit in the audience next to Heavy.
"Here comes our next newcomer."
Mikhail braced himself for utter chaos. A mere instance after Master Hand spoke, the harsh clapping of combat boots marching against the stage could be heard. This was accompanied by a harsh voice which repeated itself with each step.
"Left, left, left right left!" The man, scowling like a drill sargeant with a toothace, spoke with regimental harshness. He soon came out into the light, halting his march.
He wore a red Second World War American soldier uniform which sported a bandolier holding two, bright orange fragmentation grenades. The shoulder potion of the sleeves sported orange emblems with a rocket propelled grenades in their centers. His plain, brown trousers were held in place with a sewn cloth belt that held several pocket-like compartments, allowing him to carry ammunition and other such tools. The man's eyes were hidden behind a rust colored M1 helmet, its straps hanging like hair bangs.
"Soldier, reporting for duty!" He yelled aloud.
"Ahem, now onto introductions."
"Gah! Who said that?! Was that you, Merasmus?! Get your spectral ass out here so I can kick it back to whatever hellhole you crawled out from!"
"Soldier, do you not remember our prior meeting, I am Mas-"
"Come out now, Merasmus! There's nowhere in this room where you can hide from me!" Suddenly, Soldier stared out at the crowd, having just noticed the diverse cast of characters before him.
"Aha! So you decided to lure me into a trap to face the maggots you summoned to kill me! Well too bad, because this soldier is all about mass casualty events!" Soldier summoned a rocket launcher from out of nowhere, and the audience of Smashers immediately reacted.
Some prepared to flee. Others rose with panicked hearts to defend themselves or their companions from harm. Mario yelled over the screams and shouts.
"Jigglypuff, now!"
Leaping effortlessly onto the stage, the Balloon Pokémon took a single breath, then sang an angelic tune at the foot of the Soldier.
"Jigglypuff~"
Soldier had just grabbed the forward handle on his rocket launcher when the sound waves of Jigglypuff's serenade reached his ears. He stilled, then crumpled to the ground, snoring soundly as he fell asleep. With a flash, the grenade launcher vanished, and order was slowly returned to the theatre.
Needless to say, Master Hand never again allowed anyone to summon a weapon at an introduction again. Soldier was placed in a seat right next to Heavy, well in arm's reach. He had not stirred since falling asleep to the melody of Jigglypuff. This was just as well, and Heavy, with some help from Scout, was determined to explain things to the slumbering mercenary.
Next to arrive was Pyro. Its asbestos suit, thick gloves and boots, and black gas mask made for an imposing figure. Just as with Soldier, orange emblems, this time representing a flame, were located high on the forearms. An orange oxygen tank was strapped to its back while canisters of combustible substances hung from a strap on its chest.
Standing up on stage, Pyro canted its head in a way eerily reminiscent of a kitten looking at something new and unusual. Most Smashers were unnerved by the pyromaniac's silent staring. Before anyone could ask it questions, the Trainer Red threw a Pokéball, and out popped his trusty Charizard. Pyro was momentarily surprised by the Flame Pokémon, but it soon gasped with wonder as it saw the fire flickering strongly at the tip of Charizard's tail.
To the astonishment of everyone, the professional arsonist jumped up and down with unconstrained giddiness, clapping its gloved hands with all the energy of a small child at the zoo. Charizard made a shocked growl as Pyro wrapped its neck in a big hug. The sight was equally bemusing and adorable to some, but Scout and Heavy breathed sighs of relief.
"I see that our newcomer has an appreciation for Fire Type Pokémon. Will Pyro introduce itself?"
The mercenary in question perked up at the question, then turned back to the crowd. Pyro reluctantly detached itself from the draconic beast and began its introduction.
"Herro! Mmm mrr Mmro! Mm mmve mmre mnd mmffy mmnimmls! Mmmzd mm mmm mou!"
There was a considerable silence as everyone attempted to decipher Pyro's muffled greeting.
"Pyro says hello." Heavy stated bluntly. This was going to be awkward as the default "translator" for his fire-loving former coworker.
It became quickly apparent that asking Pyro any questions was moot. At times, Pyro was too invested in petting the Charizard sharing the stage with it to notice any inquiries. On a more pleasant note, Charizard became more comfortable as this stranger gave it scratches on its pale orange belly. Eventually, Pyro followed the Charizard to where Trainer Red sat, the former being quite pleased that he could help the newcomer settle in.
"Next newcomer, please come forth."
The next to come out of the darkness did not walk or march. Rather, he stumbled in a drunken stupor, muttering unintelligibly. Intense gulping could be heard, and the approaching individual could be plainly seen drinking the liquid contents of a dark bottle. More sensitive noses in the audience could smell a very pungent stench of alcohol laden breath.
This mercenary, a man with dark skin, black mutton chops and a connecting mustache, wore a red turtleneck and matching trousers. A dark eye patch was wrapped around his left eye, leaving only one good eye with a brown iris. The sleeve ends of a white cotton undershirt could be seen, and the sleeves of the red shirt on top had emblems of a spiky orb.
Mario thought they looked like curled up Spinies, but given the mercenary's name, he knew this was unlikely.
The man's torso was covered with a black combat vest which had six grey and yellow explosive pills. A matching belt sported a large pocket and a hanging portion of reinforced fabric that looked vaguely similar to the front portion of a kilt. To top all of this, a black, nondescript skullcap sat snuggly on his head.
Now in the middle of the stage, the inebriated man lifted a large brown bottle with three "X's" and the year 1808 below. Before the neck of the bottle could reach his lips, he noticed the crowd before him.
"Gah!" He nearly lost the grip on his drink as he screamed in shock. "Wot the bloodeh hell?!"
By now, many Smashers were exasperated by the shocked reactions of the newcomers. While some among them were mildly intimidating, such characters were the minority.
The man stared incredulously at his own alcohol, his only eye scrutinizing it for any sign of expiration or tampering. "Ugh... Maybe I got the bad stuff this time around..."
"Demoman, it is not your Scrumpy..."
The named mercenary looked up and noticed Heavy foremost in the crowd, alongside a visibly entertained Scout. "Heavy? Scout? Boy am I glad ta see yew!"
"Yeah, I know we're frickin' awesome, but uh, you gotta introduce yourself to these guys." Scout replied.
"Yes." Heavy nodded. "We have been invited to fight as a job again. Team must have good first impression."
Demoman slowly nodded in understanding, then saw Soldier sleeping rather heavily next to Heavy. "Wit's wrong wit' him?"
"Solder treated everyone like they were enemies. Fighting is only allowed during official match. We will wake him later and explain it to him." Heavy explained.
"Ah. That's naught surprising." The demolition's expert cleared his throat. "Mah name is Tavish Finnegan Degroot. Yew can call me Demoman or jus' Demo. That's me job name, and it's suited me jus' fine."
The Smashers were surprised by the Scottish cyclops' lucidity despite his visible drinking. This time, the introductions and questioning went as smoothly as could be expected. The one moment of excitement was when Scout asked a very inflammatory question after Demoman demonstrated his considerable knowledge over explosives.
"Hey Demo, what makes you a good Demoman?"
Demoman could not help but take the bait. He had great pride as a descendant of the Degroot clan. "Whit makes me a good Demoman? If I were a BAD Demoman, I wouldnae be standin' here, discussin' it wit these lads n' lassies, now would I?!"
Tavish's vociferous response surprised many. Scout just snickered, even when Heavy glared his way.
Next to arrive was the smallest of the mercenaries in terms of height, his brown work boots walking steadily forward. This man was adorned with a red collared shirt, its sleeves rolled up just short of the elbows. Each sleeve had a yellowish symbol with a construction wrench at its center. Atop the man's head was a yellow construction grade helmet and a pair of dark welder's goggles over his eyes. A single, yellow construction glove was placed over his right hand.
Dark brown overalls composed his pants, the kneecap portion covered with yellow, metal pads. He had a utility belt with large pocket hanging over his left thigh, within which was a bulky, remote-like contraption. Opposite of that, an ammo pocket and a lasso hung in a loop from a belt loop. On closer inspection, however, it was a power cord, with a three pronged plug at one end.
"Howdy, ladies and gentlemen, the Engineer is Engi-here." The newly named mercenary could not help but chuckle at his play on words, and several Smashers shared a chuckle. It became immediately clear that Engineer was leaving the best impression out of all of the Mann Co. mercenaries so far.
With each Smasher, Engineer gave a tip of his hard hat and a "pleased to meet ya." Scout grumbled at the natural charm Engineer demonstrated. Heavy, conversely, could not have been more content. His only gripe was that Soldier had to make a scene in such a volatile way.
Engineer made a good show when the questions came forth. The first was from Solid Snake, who was curious about his capabilities. Although Engineer was promptly told that he could not show off any weapons, he settled for building a dispenser and the entrance and exit of one of his teleporters. He eagerly showed off the capabilities of the passive contraptions, though his technological lingo went over the heads of many. Despite the complex nature of the machines he had constructed, they were fascinating to all, especially to Steve, who stared with intent at the newcomer on stage.
When Engineer joined four of his former coworkers in the audience, but the meeting was not yet over.
"Finally, we have three new assist trophies in this update. Please welcome: the Medic!"
"Doctor?" Heavy asked.
Indeed, through the darkness, a middle aged man with a doctor's coat strolled through. His bespectacled blue eyes looked on with wonder at the various characters in the audience. An unsettling smile grew on his tall face as did the volume of his chuckles.
"Wunderbar..."
"Ahem..."
"Oops," Medic chuckled sheepishly, "I forget myself. Guten Tag, I am zhe Medic. I am looking forward to expanding my talents to such a diverse cast of test subjects!"
Many an eye stared at Medic with great distrust.
"Medic's primary role is to act as a support character. He can heal the summoner and any teammates associated with that summoner, though he will prioritize the one who summed him."
"Yes!" Medic exclaimed, summoning his Medigun onto his back, the nozzle portion of the device gripped firmly in his hands. "I can heal you by connecting you to a healing beam with my Medigun."
The battle oriented doctor immediately spotted Heavy at the front of the audience. His smile grew even more, partially from spotting an old comrade, and partially from a new idea to better demonstrate his capabilities. "Heavy! Vould you mind coming on stage to show off zhe Medigun's power?"
"Doctor need only ask." Heavy answered. Mikhail pushed himself up onto the stage, then turned to face the audience alongside his old friend. He had a feeling that the audience was going to be shocked by what came next, but the opportunity was too good to squander. "I am ready, Doctor."
Medic then drew a bonesaw and slashed Heavy in the arm. Heavy grunted in pain whilst several in the audience screamed, including Tetha. Blood trickled down Heavy's arm whilst he attempted to ease the terror going on in the room.
"Doctor can heal wound with ease." Heavy spoke with authority. The screaming managed to cease, but the general atmosphere of shock and horror was still present.
Medic pushed the activator of the Medigun forward, and a red haze flowed out of the nozzle. It connected to Heavy, and a red energy swam over him. The laceration on his forearm shrank and vanished, and with that, the terror in the hearts of the Smashers became tamed.
"After I have healed you for a sufficient amount of time, I can activate one of zhe greatest gifts ever conceived by a human mind!" Seconds later, a loud buzz of power droned out. The backpack on the Medic's back began to glow with crimson sparks of energy.
"Charge now, Doctor!"
"Ya!" With a flick of a switch and second application of the heal beam, the bodies of Heavy and Medic entarily surged with power before both of them became a shiny, red chrome. Their eyes glowed a fearsome yellow and every inch of his body was covered with an almost magical imperviousness.
"HA HA HA! I AM BULLETPROOF!" Heavy yelled.
The astonishing display did not last forever. Everyone in the crowd watched as only eight seconds later, the power died down, and Heavy and Medic became their normal selves again.
"Ah, Heavy missed having Doctor's charge on the battlefield." Heavy commented.
"That glowing power was... interesting." Byleth commented. "However, what precisely does it do?"
"Zhe Ubercharge makes whomever is connected to the heal beam of the Medigun impervious to any and all forms of damage. Complete invincibility for eight seconds! More zhan enough time to deal tremendous damage."
There were titters of appraisal for the power. Invincibility was, understandably, a rare attribute to attain, restricted to the use of items to accomplish such immunity to any damage. Obviously, it would not help against the blast zone, but Medic had demonstrated a strong showing right off the bat.
"The Medic can be KO'd in a battle, but beware that Medic can also fight back, using his bone-saw and a weapon known as the Syringe gun in a worst case scenario. Now, introduce yourselves to Medic."
Strangely enough, Medic was the one to ask more questions to the audience than the other way around. The not-so ethical man of medicine was morbidly curious about the physiology about the various characters in the audience. It started innocently enough, asking about Link and Zelda's distinct ears, to fascination with Pikachu's electricity generation. When Medic started to openly talk about potential biopsies and other such procedures, more and more Smashers began to look at him with fear and distrust.
Eventually, Heavy dispensed with the tension, being blunt about Medic's attitude towards other living creatures.
"Medic thinks of everything as Guinea pig for experiments." Heavy stated, causing many behind him to pale. "However, Doctor will not bother any of you, will you, Doctor?"
Medic growled with frustration. "Gah. Fine. I promise I vill only heal others in a match. I can wizhold my curiosity about zhe newcomers around me for now."
"Excellent." Piped up Master Hand. "You may join your companions in the audience."
It was just as well that Medic sat with the other mercenaries. None of the other Smashers wanted to be too close to him given his personality.
The next to arrive was a slim man with dark sunglasses, a bush hat, and an empty hostler for a sniper rifle. His red shirt had crosshairs over the shoulder portion of the sleeves, overtop of which was a dark vest with several pockets, including one which held high calibur cartridges. The man's left hand had a black, fingerless glove and a plain wristwatch.
"I'm the Sniper." The Australian introduced himself with a deathly calm tone. "Anyone or anything that needs killin', I'm the one ya call up."
"Morbid description aside, the Sniper is an offensive assist trophy with the ability to deal large amounts of damage from offscreen." Master Hand explained.
The screen overtop the stage lowered and activated itself, showing off a crosshair similar to the colored symbols on the sleeves of the Sniper.
"This crosshair will show up to demonstrate that the Sniper is taking aim. Evading the shot will not be easy, because shielding and counter attacks will not protect you. The best way to escape is to dodge at just the right moment. Sniper will prioritize the highest scoring Smasher in a match with three or more combatants. Unlike Medic, Sniper cannot be interacted with directly, so you will have to rely on quickness to avoid his shots."
Sniper proved to be a mercenary of few words. He kept most information close to his chest, not wanting any of his potential targets to get an edge over him. With his addition to the audience, this left only one Smasher left.
"The last of the new assist trophies has actually inserted himself in the audience." Master Hand said. Everyone present started glancing about, keeping an eye out for any new faces. No one saw the last of the mercenaries so much as heard them.
"Leave it to the disembodied hand with god-like powers to ruin the fun."
Mario jumped, feeling something pressed against his neck. As if materializing out of the ether, a lean man with an expensive, red suit and a matching balaclava mask appeared behind the plumber. In his hand was a butterfly knife, carefully poking at the skin of his target. Gasps were heard as the expert in espionage made himself known.
"Spy!" Scout cried out. "I shoulda known a shapeshiftin' rat like ya self would do crap like this."
Spy groaned, rolling his eyes. "And I should have known you would not hesitate to be vulgar before an audience of our new peers."
Demoman spoke up. "Could ye not point a bloodeh knife at one of our peers, then? It's a wee bit hypocritical, lad."
"Hmm. Perhaps you have a point." Spy withdrew the weapon. "Forgive me. It has been a considerable amount of time since I have had the chance to use my skills in such a manner."
Spy straightened his tie, then thumbed an unlit cigarette in his hands. He suspected that the theatre was a "non-mocking" area, so he had to be patient if he wanted his daily dosage of tobacco. "I am the Spy. That is all you need to know. Do not bother asking any questions about me and my profession. If I was honest with my background, I would have little choice but to kill everyone in this room."
The room became silent after that, though some found the threat incredulous, given the things they had survived over years of fighting and adventuring.
"Spy's MO is that he will strike suddenly, and at random. Like with Sniper, the Spy's attack will bypass shields and counters. You will have to be especially clever to escape an instant KO. The Spy will be much more opportunistic with regards to whom he chooses as a target, so everyone who is not the summoner hd better watch out.
"If you manage to evade his backstab, there will be a brief window of opportunity for you to take him out, granting you one point. However, you must be careful even then. There is a small chance that you did not KO him. After that, he might just reappear behind you, seeking revenge for having attacked him."
This left everyone feeling nervous about their chances to get ahead by using the Spy as a punching bag. As for Spy himself, he chuckled darkly, and a spare hand thumbed a shiny, altered pocket watch.
"That concludes this meeting. As always, be sure to give our newcomers a warm welcome. It is a new chapter for this world, and we shall only benefit with new competition. You are all dismissed."
Most Smashers began to put away their seats and hurry their way out of the theatre room. Although some of the mercenaries had done better than some at presenting themselves, others, namely Medic and Soldier, had disturbed them. This was not an unprecedented attitude. Newcomer villains in particular had lonely beginnings, especially the likes of Sephiroth, who still had a fearsome reputation many months after his introduction.
Heavy lamented that the introductions had not gone smoothly. The quick thinking of Mario and Samus had gone far to minimize damage, but it did not entirely stem shock, controversy, or panic.
'What is done, is done.' He thought. There was no use dwelling on the matter. The largest of the former Mann Co. mercenaries rose to his feet, and the others joined him. The only exception was Soldier, who was still sleeping soundly in his seat.
"It is... good to see team." Heavy rumbled.
Uncharacteristically, the other mercenaries dared to smile. Their hearts had become somewhat stony over years of life experience and brutal fighting. This reunion, despite its incredulous circumstances, was a bit of a welcome one.
"Aye." Said Demoman quietly, having a small chuckle.
"I'll say." Engineer agreed, shaking Heavy's beefy hand. "Hey Spy, how's the suit?"
"Still immaculate as always, laborer. I see your quaint little hard hat has not yet lost its luster." He remarked with a grin.
More laughs and handshakes were shared around. They were interrupted as Mario approached.
"Heavy."
"Mario." Heavy greeted.
"Are you still-a committed to-a guiding your former colleagues?"
"Former colleagues no more." Heavy corrected. "And yes, Heavy is prepared to show team everything they need to know."
Mario nodded along. "Eight characters is-a quite the party. Usually we-a have a one to-a one ratio in guides."
"Heavy has Engineer, Spy, and Sniper to help keep team in line."
"Hey!" Scout yelled, mildly offended. "We're grown men, fatty. We don't need a babysitter, or whateva'."
"Heavy knows team too well. Heavy will not embarrass comrades by telling of your shortcomings. Trust me. Is best that team stick together as we travel around."
Scout grumbled, but had no rebuttal.
"I won't deny your understanding of-a your teammates. I wish you a safe and-a uneventful time. Let's-a not have any rivalries starting up again."
Heavy hummed in approval, and the plumber departed to account for the cleanup of the theatre room. He turned to the other mercenaries. "Let us start tour of Smash Mansion. Heavy has much to teach teammates about fighting in world of Smash Bros. But first..."
Soldier had now flopped off his seat onto his side, still deep in REM sleep.
"We need to wake Soldier up."
