Music: "The Visionary"
Somewhere across the vast cerulean skies of Planet Veradeena resided the heavenly realm of Skyworld. This was home of course to the angel beings who abided in ancient temple structures, boasting wonderful architecture comprised entirely out of stone.
Like the seemingly endless cloudscapes underlying it all, Skyworld levitated here with neither movement nor sound, as though it were a place frozen in time. Only those near-constant yet gentle atmospheric winds could be felt within the stark white light of the Nassazar sun, shining down in its equally divine splendor.
The gusts curled and wove their way between numerous stone pillars of a particularly huge temple which was topped by a grand marble statue, bearing extended angelic wings.
No doubt this was a statue of the Goddess of Light for all to behold. Yet, despite these gorgeous temples, statues, and monuments scattered above the far-reaching blankets of clouds, the whole place looked and felt completely barren.
It seemed not a single soul resided here, but there indeed were. Just like the rest of Sector N on this day, not even the attention of these rather estranged angel folk could be turned from watching the next great smash tournament's opening ceremony. After all, some of their own kin were down there participating.
Deep within one of the stone halls of that huge temple, someone stood alone in the dark. It was the young hero angel, Pit.
He appeared completely motionless from behind and leaned over something that emitted an ethereal light, making the silhouette of his upper body glow amid the surrounding darkness. The source of this light bloomed up from one of the mysterious altars of observation, which allowed someone a truly special way to see and hear other places anywhere across the planet; possibly even other worlds as well.
Pit resided there with his hands resting upon the altar's cold rim, not moving a single muscle in his body whilst he stared down into that silky mirage of the water. A portal-like feed revealed none other than the arena of Midair Stadium, with all its brilliantly sunlit flags and banners being released to fly in the day's breeze from those countless balconies and seating levels.
All of this brought a tranquil and truly heavenly ambiance to the otherwise dark stone hall which Pit stood in. Its sound was spacious; like that of a distant echo, shimmering with faint tones of that massive stadium music, voices, and other aural wonders that came from down there. Everything resonated around this chamber and even drifted beyond, wandering out into other empty halls of the temple.
Yet, a certain sense of what looked like melancholy seemed to stir deep within the angel's blue eyes as he kept gazing into this beautiful mirage almost longingly. How he yearned for a feeling he once might have known, with the altar showcasing all the joy and liveliness that he was apparently missing out on.
His thoughts kept churning slowly, until something prompted just about everything in his mind to scatter.
"Remember, Pit... You could be down there too..." A soft voice suddenly arose behind him. He turned around and saw that it came from the Goddess of Light herself, Palutena.
"You could be about to walk out like everyone else... Out into the people's love and admiration..." She was approaching him, ever so elegant in her near-silent walk across the stone floor. Her golden rings and jewelry clinked softly, with only the lightest of taps sounding up from her shoes as she strode.
"... Some other mortal probably ended up taking your place," Palutena went on with a small smirk, occasionally glancing down at her feet. "And that's one less angel who's setting foot in the stadium this time."
From the look on Pit's face, he'd clearly been made uncomfortable by her abrupt presence. He lowered his head before answering under his breath, "... I told you though, Lady Palutena, I just wanted to watch this one. R-Remember I hurt my leg the other week...?"
The Goddess of Light walked up beside her angel and quietly peered into the altar with him for a few moments. She then turned her emerald-green eyes to gaze at the side of his head. Her lips hesitated, only retaining a half-smile by now, because it was also quite clear to her that he was trying to pretend she wasn't there. Still, Palutena lightly ran the tips of her fingers up along Pit's shoulder closest to her.
"It's just a bit curious, though," she started, "Why didn't you want to at least go down and, you know, actually be there to watch your fellow angels who are competing?"
Practically the moment she finished that little inquiry, Pit answered right back, "Well I'm watching right now though, aren't I?"
Those sharper words echoed around the hall. Pit's gaze darted down and around the dark floor in trying to conjure up some kind of an excuse. He just couldn't grasp one though, so he was left standing there rather flustered.
Palutena meanwhile half-squinted her own eyes, glinting in the altar's shimmering light. Calmly, she thought to ask, "Is it because... You were beaten last time, Pit?"
It was as if the right mark got struck squarely on its head. She could see her angel trying his best to hold back a sour expression on his face, but it ended up breaking through. He marginally pivoted his head even further away from her instead.
The Goddess did seem to understand his apparent guilt, however.
"Pit..." She sought to reassure him, "Remember, there's absolutely no shame if you take a loss in the tournaments..."
His head remained motionless, yet his eyes shifted back towards her ever so slightly out of a kind of disbelief in this comfort she was trying to give.
"The reasons for them are... Well, they've always been for everyone's enjoyment and showing our unity throughout these stars we all call home... But that's beside the point I'm trying to make here."
Oh, really? What the heck is that supposed to mean? Pit's sarcasm stormed through the thoughts already teeming in his mind, Sheesh... I KNOW all this stuff already. If you'd just say it to me straight and not do this stupid explaining all the time, I'd MAYBE be in the mood to-
Ahem... You know I can hear your thoughts, Pit. Why oh why do you even try this with me? The Goddess smugly narrowed her eyes at her angel, whose cheeks were concurrently flushing a visible shade of pink. He fidgeted with one of his arm bands and must've been grinding his teeth together as well.
... Anyway... What it's supposed to mean, is that... She initially continued by her telepathy, but then switched midway back to her physical voice, "... Having a streak like yours is better than many other contenders could ever dream of. I just feel that lots of people, including your many fans, are disappointed that a champion like yourself isn't returning."
Pit continued staring into the surrounding darkness of the hall at first, yet after pondering her words for some moments, his eyelids lowered gently.
Palutena was right. He'd been a famous long-time smasher since he was an immortal being of Skyworld, and had racked up a robust record of victories against defeats. In fact, for his longest streak he held eight wins against one loss which was considered very impressive.
That was the most shattering defeat on his whole record, however, towards the end of the previous 49th Quadrennial Tournament four years prior. This loss had been all the way up in the semifinals, and it was that lingering bitterness which was now causing him to want to skip this tournament altogether.
"... Yeah," he finally uttered, rather nonchalant. "It may have been a good match that last time, but... Link was just a cheater. Even when he was down, I got robbed of my win and I can't ever forget that. You remember, right, Lady Palutena? I wasn't just beaten... I got played into losing."
The Goddess kept eyeing him unsurely as he went back to watching the waters in the altar, trying to ignore her persisting presence.
"Well, if I recall correct, it seemed like a fair match to me." She let her gaze drift up to the stone ceiling which hung matted beneath colorful shimmers of light. "Sure was an exciting one, I'll admit, but you hesitated several times near the end where you could've finished Link right there. He took advantage of those hesitations and ended up using your own technique against you. Cheater is hardly the word I'd use to describe Link in that smash. I'd actually say he was the one being clever, bold, even dashing..."
Palutena shifted her attention back down to Pit. Though she'd meant no offense, she could see him shaking his head slowly and biting down on his lower lip; totally in denial of the whole notion.
Now her patience was starting to get tested, so she let out an almost agitated sigh.
"Look, Pit... How have you been alright with yourself these past four years if it's something that bothers you so much?" Her once caring tone had become noticeably more demanding. She even tilted her head in a somewhat impatient manner.
"I don't understand... I've never seen you in such a downer mood like this up until today... Until right now..."
A full minute of apathetic silence seemed to pass, until her angel finally lifted his head up and smiled vaguely into nothing; still bent on avoiding any sort of eye contact.
"... Lying to myself, I guess," he let out, "I was just forcing everything back, locking it all away somewhere... And then I put on a little happy face just to say everything's alright... When of course it isn't. That's how I did it, Lady Palutena. It's just my guilt... Beneath my happy face of shame..."
The Goddess stood there, quite taken back and at a loss of words. She'd never heard Pit talk this way before. All she could manage was a wary inquiry:
"Pit... Seriously, what's the matter with you...? Have you forgotten what it's like to be down there with all your friends...? What happened to that energetic little angel I knew so well from-?"
"No, Lady Palutena, I don't think I've forgotten..." Fully adamant, he went on, "The thing is... Maybe there are just some of us who don't want to be a part of it anymore."
"... What are you saying...?" The Goddess came across concerned. Pit wasn't willing to give any leeway, though.
"I think you know what I mean. Maybe, I'm just finished with these smash tournaments."
Palutena stared down her nose at him through a strong sense of disbelief. "... How can you even say that? After one loss...?! But, you've been to so many of them...! You were always a great fighter, and still are. You've misguided yourself, though. Do you even realize what this special occasion is that you're missing out on?"
"But I haven't, Lady Palutena," Pit fired right back. There was obvious complaining in his voice now, even as he kept trying to stand his ground. "It's something I should never forget, because it's the way I lost. It was a complete joke. You just don't wanna admit it."
"I... What...?!" The Goddess struggled to make sense of what he was claiming. "Do you really expect me to believe you'll just spend the years watching all the tournaments from now on, way up here in your little temple of isolation?"
"Hmph... Maybe..." The angel was becoming more of a smart-alec, and Palutena had just about had enough.
She sighed, "Does it make you feel happy or something? Are you happy being all alone in here?"
Pit promptly turned to her in response, snapping, "Yeah, as a matter of fact I was happy until you showed up!"
The Goddess stood there, shocked. She couldn't even conjure anything to utter back to that harsh spike in her angel's voice.
It was obvious this conversation had devolved into an argument and wasn't going any other direction, so Palutena's lips remained clamped shut. She hopelessly shook her head instead, before turning to walk away from Pit who kept standing rigidly in front of the altar.
That is, until another thought crossed Palutena's mind. It caused her to come to a stop once more in the middle of the hall, between the altar and the arched exit.
For a few quiet moments she thought deeply, until the right words found her at last. Even that symbolic blue shape of her aurora began to gleam behind her head.
"Pit," she started, "All these years I've held it back on purpose, but experiencing losses like this are a part of life for any being. It doesn't matter if they're immortal like us, or otherwise."
She turned to face upon Pit's backside, elaborating on her point, "We all end up facing it sooner or later, and for you... I guess that time is now."
From where Palutena stood, she could see the cheek muscles along the sides of his face and neck tighten amid those flickering shades of luminance welling up from the altar down in front of him.
"So please, Pit," she tried her best to persuade him. "Don't hold this grudge against Link like that. What it defeats most is the purpose of your own being. Just think about the larger picture here. You have nothing to be ashamed of, but I guess what I'm really trying to make you understand is even I find it a bit disappointing that you're not at least down there with the others..."
The angel's feathered wings flicked a single time, however. All he offered in return was the empty sound of silence.
Palutena eventually let out a soft and somewhat disheartened sigh, giving an unsure smile to his backside. Turning, she continued to walk until she came to a point right in front of that archway leading out of the temple. The Goddess stopped there, looking back at Pit one last time as a gust of wind curled in from outside and whisked up some outer strands of her long green hair.
... Even if you've forgotten, just know... They're still your friends... She whispered to him through his head solemnly, yet nothing seemed to help. Pit only felt those words gnawing deeper and more voraciously into his already-conflicted mind with her presence. He clamped his eyelids shut instead and bit down harder on his lip, almost to a piercing point in trying to stay the pain of his past regrets that he just wanted to forget about so badly.
"Lady Palutena," he insisted, "Please... Just leave me alone..."
A subtle smirk formed on the corners of her lips and the Goddess of Light nodded only once, making the final refute.
"Alright, you asked..."
With much more audible taps of her shoes on the stone floor, she thus exited the hall. Now that isolating emptiness of the temple returned almost immediately. Only those refractions of colorful illumination and faint sounds emanating from the altar remained.
Pit uttered a damp sigh after reopening his eyes. He stood here all alone like he had been, before this confrontation with his Goddess, yet for all his stubbornness and attempted ignorance to her words, something indefinite felt planted inside of him now. Some of the more powerful words she'd said resonated multiple times within Pit's mind. It was merely a feeling, yet a profound one nonetheless.
New and different echoes began to linger in his head. Distant whispers of some sort seemed to call out from the dark halls around him as he kept watching the shimmering array of images in this portal-like mirage.
The angel turned, trying so hard to resist them, and even started to walk away with intentions to leave the temple. But then his wings fluttered slightly; those conflicting voices suddenly dissipated back into the darkness, and all he could hear now were the joyous auras of celebrations effervescing up from those waters in the altar.
He blinked once, then twice. Something was making him stop with a desire to reconsider everything.
"Maybe... Maybe Lady Palutena is right... Like always..." He murmured, somewhat regretfully as he attempted to muster his fractured will. This new sense did make him feel rather strange though, like a piece of his spirit had just been reborn.
Thus, with soft footsteps from his sandals pattering upon the stone, Pit slowly reproached that mysterious altar to see down into Midair Stadium and experience all that it had to offer.
"Yeah," he said at last, resting his hands upon the rim once more. "I gotta try and leave my regrets behind..."
A particularly strong gust of that cool outside breeze whisked its way deep into the hall, caressing the back of his tunic and curling against his messy brown hair. A tiny glistening tear soon formed in the corner of his eye. Thoughts raced around in his mind. Slow breaths crept from his still lips.
Pit really wanted to express something, yet it seemed every potential word evaded his grasp as he remained standing here by himself. He was even leaning further over the altar's mirrored waters now than he'd been before. All those beautiful sounds kept dancing in his ears. Each of them rang with a unique charm, telling a kind of story on what was happening.
Inevitably, his eyelids closed once more out of longing. Pit imagined himself down in that grand arena again, sharing those moments with all the other smashers being showered in the light and glory.
But then it came, that great aural explosion of cheering and fanfare; quickly swelling louder than anything else had prior.
He could also see the beaming faces of all his friends again: His fellow angels, as well as Mario, Fox, Captain Falcon, Marth, along with the rest of the gang he'd known. They all waved and greeted him as he offered the same in return, patting a few of them on their shoulders while he drifted by in this weightless reverie.
Several more figures of people moved aside, but everything froze in place when Pit's gaze fell upon someone faced away; someone who was wearing a green tunic-like garb. Thick, long-ish blonde hair shrouded this person's head from behind, until he turned and revealed himself.
It was Link.
"Huh...?!" Jealousy quickly welled up to take hold of the young angel. Everything that Palutena had told him, even what he'd just told himself to do, seemed to evaporate in a flash.
Holding his shield and Master Sword firm, Link turned around slowly. He stared straight into Pit's widening eyes, giving him a dark and teasing grin about that past defeat.
"Nghh... No...!" Pit snapped his eyes back open and shouted at the emptiness of the temple, unable to take it anymore.
"... NO!" In a sudden fit of anger, his hand violently struck down against the water's surface, throwing the mirage into a distorted mess of ripples. Some water even splashed down on the stone floor, as well as his own feet.
"Uggghhh...!" The angel covered his face and groaned loudly, walking back a good several meters from the altar, "Wha... What's wrong with me...?!"
Pit ended up going all the way to the arched exit before stopping, banging a clenched fist against one of the sides. He stood there now, supporting himself with his other hand as he gazed out across Palutena's magnificent temple courtyard, aloft over the tranquil seas of clouds.
Again, small tears lined the bottoms of the angel's blue eyes, yet for all his burning frustration, inhaling breaths of the fresh cool air did seem to help a bit. He calmed down while residing there, listening to auras of the drifting breeze and some birds faintly chirping their little songs in one of the nearby topiary gardens.
... Lady Palutena...? Pit tried calling out to his Goddess through his mind, I'm... I'm sorry for how I acted. I don't know what I was thinking. Please... What can I do...?
No response came, however. All he could do was settle on the bitter belief that this was all a part of Palutena's life lesson.
... Maybe... There's another way...
After pondering hard and quelling those mounting temptations to look back, he took a deep breath and made the big decision to just leave the altar of observation altogether and go out for a long walk instead, around the vast gardens of Skyworld to hopefully clear his head.
Indeed, the legendary hero Pit appeared as nothing more than a helpless, mute angel. Desiring peace was the only real notion upon his mind.
He wandered along winding pathways of velvety grass lined with topiaries, eventually coming to a steep rocky ledge. He peered over it and gazed down at the clouds swirling far below before closing his eyes again in silence.
A part of Pit's soul wanted to break free, so he let it.
He felt himself beginning to voyage freely across the sky... Rising higher... Watching as the world and everything on it slowly fell away beneath him...
* Midair Stadium *
All the thunder-like drumming and epic riffs of that rock n' roll music had faded by now, for a deeply euphoric symphony of horns was rising to take its place. The sound welled upward, spreading throughout this entire open-roofed arena with a power that could only be described as humbling. It filled every corner and every single soul, teeming with that special feeling.
A sudden wave of pleasantly surprised gasps also filled the air when many people in the crowds pointed upward, seeing a large and stark shadow starting to blanket a portion of the sun-drenched stadium. This shadow belonged to the gargantuan black tapestry of the ceremonial smash mat, being slowly and evenly lowered on all sides by a squadron of uniform-clad crew on personal helicrafts.
They allowed it to touch down on the smash platform before spreading it out like a humongous rug, which ended up covering the entire middle area. Now the mat's immense bright white smash insignia aligned itself in the center for all to admire.
But then it came; the real moment that everybody had been waiting for. The stentorian voice of the stadium announcer broke through and rumbled around the whole place, impressively overpowering every other sound as he bade to all a most energetic salutation:
"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys of ages young and old from all corners of Sector N! The 50th Quadrennial Galactic Smash Tournament hosted here at the one-and-only Midair Stadium is about to commence!"
Music: "186000 Endings Per Second"
Back inside the training facility, just about every one of the smashers turned and stared in awe as the resulting blast of roaring excitement seemed to swell the exit hall's opening a tiny bit wider. All that force of the air was spilling in like a blur, perhaps because the soundwaves themselves did almost come out visible to everyone's at least partially-fazed eyes.
"... Yeah, that's gotta be at least two-hundred thousand out there by my reckoning," Captain Falcon joked, estimating the size of the crowds with a hand cupped behind his ear and a prospective smirk on his face. Then he scooped his iconic helmet up from the bench and carried it, waltzing right past the observing Mario brothers to try and find his opponent for the first round before it got much later.
"Yo," he called out, disappearing further into the groups of smashers. "Anyone seen another Douglas Jay lookin' fella 'round here?"
He made his way past numerous shoulders of others and squeezed a path through clustered bodies alike, when all of a sudden, he bumped into Ike who didn't even appear to flinch.
"... Well, excuse you too..." He shot Captain Falcon a half-amused look, brushing his side where the rough impact had happened.
"Sorry there, Ike ol' pal... Ol' friend... Hehe...!" The F-zero racer tried to chuckle off his apology with a cheesy little grin before picking up his helmet. "Um... Say... You wouldn't happen to have seen a fellow lookin' similar to me, would ya?"
"Hmph, hardly." The mercenary sounded rather indifferent. He flicked a finger against the armor plate on his shoulder, which had shifted out a ways from the two's collision. "As a matter of fact, it's the opposite. I've spotted quite a few people in here with the well-defined likes of you. Hmm... Are you for certain that I'm not the one you're paired with for this first round?"
Ike began to form a little smirk of his own, which maybe told of some slightly devious intentions. Captain Falcon saw it and quickly swallowed anything else that he would have said, figuring it was in his best interests to calmly try and pull out of the situation to avoid further shenanigans.
"Oh, good golly, of course not...!" He scoffed lightheartedly and started taking a few steps backward. "Surely they wouldn't be crazy enough to put marvelous me with a warrior like you in the first rou-"
His words abruptly cut short when he stumbled right against Lucina, accidentally jabbing her backside with his elbow.
"Ouch," she uttered sharply, rubbing the area on her back where they'd collided. "Watch where you're going, Sir Falcon."
"Agh... Sorry... Excuse me there, Princess..." He fumbled to pick his helmet up off the floor yet again. He thought for a moment, only to exhale and ask rather admittedly, "You know what? Look... Maybe I just need some-"
"Hey, Lucina," Ike then called over to her from behind the F-zero racer, quite amused. "I think Douglas is just afraid he might be versing me in the first round, haha."
The blue-haired Princess blinked a few quick times in trying to keep her attention on Captain Falcon here in front of her. He'd become visibly a bit anxious, but continued on his initial question and shook off Ike's comments from behind.
"I can't... Well, ok... The problem is, I can't find my opponent for the first round."
"Um... Hm... Is that so...?" She nodded with the smallest blush manifesting upon her cheeks, being unsure of what exactly to say to this at first. Lucina was someone who always wanted to try and help, though, so she proposed, "Well... Would you care if I helped you find him, perhaps?"
He let out a deep sigh of relief and scoffed, "Took the words right outta my mouth, Princess... So uh, yeah... I'd really love it if you helped me out...!"
Lucina giggled at him through a friendly smile. Captain Falcon may have been one of, if not the greatest show-offs that this particular generation of smashers had to offer, but when it came to his skills in trying to explain a minor problem of his, especially to someone of the other gender, that was something which left much to be desired; despite the fact that he confidently proclaimed himself to be a true lady's man.
There were plenty of others who would definitely second that.
"... It's not Ike, is it...?" The Ylissean Princess wanted to make sure. Likewise, the F-zero racer shook his head, a bit relieved at that.
"Nope, I'm like ten-outta-ten percent sure it isn't him... Thank goodness..."
"... What is it?" She tilted her head with a curious smirk. "Are you actually frightened of him, or...?"
"Nah, nah," he tried his best to reason while staying suave. "It's just, ya know, for the first round and all... I'd maybe... Rather be with someone else, if you get what I'm sayin'."
It was obvious to Lucina that he was trying to flirt with her a little, though she figured it was alright. She mostly understood where he was coming from anyways.
"Alright then, how about we start looking over here..." With that, she firmly took Captain Falcon by a forearm and began leading him off towards other groups of smashers. He formed a rather surprised expression on his face and began to silently mouth some suggestive ideas, more than likely, back to Ike due to the truly unexpected strength of her grip.
Lucina's eyes darted around in observance nonetheless as they wandered through this moving maze that was made up of all the other entrants. Then she inquired back to Captain Falcon, "What does this first-round opponent of yours look like? Do you know? Could I make a wild assumption that he-?"
"... Looks kinda similar to me?" He answered in place for her, "Uhh... Yeah, actually. I know for a fact that's right."
She scoffed and rolled her eyes a bit in amusement. "Hmm, at least we have some sort of a lead now, don't we?"
Ike kept standing back there with a somewhat dissatisfied stare, meanwhile. He watched the two of them drift further off into the crowds, even retaining a subtle hint of envy within his narrowed blue eyes. Something from an instance in the past seemed to be nagging at him inside, yet he couldn't pinpoint what it was. Soon enough, the mercenary just shook the thought away and figured he'd let it pass for now.
Lucina, still guiding the F-zero racer along closely, passed by the Mario brothers who'd been having a conversation with Kirby, Yoshi, Little Mac, and Red.
"Well, it looks like Wario and-a-Waluigi will be disqualified." Mario sighed, "Neither of them have arrived which is-a-very strange. I mean, they said they'd be here. They promised they'd be on-a-time."
Kirby, Luigi, as well as the others shared an unsure glance.
"So, ehh... All the single matches come-a-first?" Luigi then asked, over all the other voices regarding the tournament's setup.
Mario nodded and happily clarified for his younger sibling, "Usually the first-a-four days are for all singles, which is what most-a-people come for. The other three days of-a-the week are for-a-the doubles matches, and-a-then the Pokémon battles. Many people do stay and watch-a-the doubles anyway, because I'll say... The last-a-few tournaments, they've-a-gained a lot of popularity."
During this time, Ike had wandered his way over and felt compelled to join in with the brothers' conversation, "... And that's because they're double the action, quite literally. You're both going in the doubles too, yes?"
Luigi swallowed a bit unsurely, "I-I think so... Right, Mario...?"
His brother returned a rather blank look. "Well, I don't-a-know, Luigi. Did you sign yourself up?"
"Yeah, bro, I did," he hastily confirmed, nodding at the same time. It was the truth though, so after blinking a single time, Mario just shrugged briefly.
"Oki-doki then, there you have it... But-a, we'll have to wait and see who our teammates are until-a-after tomorrow on-a-the third day."
"... And with any luck, little green handyman," Ike added onto Mario's point, "You'll be paired on a team with me."
To compliment his words, the mercenary rested his sheathed great sword upon his shoulder and grinned adamantly. His case was sound, and Luigi glanced over yet again for that special older brotherly expression of reassurance which Mario could always do so well. He even seemed to second Ike's idea with a smile.
"Hehe, now wouldn't that-a-be something to see."
Their little discussion got short-ended, however, due to the announcer speaking from the outside. Once more, and not surprisingly, his rich voice effortlessly overpowered all those other droning waves of commotion still spilling in:
"... It is by the great pleasure of having so many nations and worlds together here in attendance for this next week of celebrating two-hundred smashing years, that the opening ceremony be presented!"
As the voices rumbled on, everyone else in the training room was starting to line up in front of those large glass doors to the exit hall, having partnered with their designated opponent for the first round.
"Good luck to you out there, Mr. Mario," Marth bade from a ways over. "We know you and the honorable Star Warrior Kirby are first."
"Mhmm," Mario acknowledged the Prince's friendly words with a quick tip of his cap. "Like-a-wise to you, Marth. Remember though, never let-a-your guard down."
The blue-haired swordsman just chuckled happily, nodding back amidst the obscuring blurs of all those other people passing by. It soon became too dense and blocked their view of each other completely, yet the time for talks was over anyway. A tight and demanding schedule needed to be followed after all, one which was up to the minute and without delay.
"... Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer then proclaimed, "If you could please direct your attention to the smash platform. All the first round contenders for the singles will reveal themselves momentarily in their bracket order, as they each represent their homelands and worlds from where they hail."
Though Marth had just mentioned it, Mario already knew of course that he and Kirby were first up. Thus, he took a deep breath and began walking towards the front of the line.
"Alrighty Kirby, let's-a-go," he called back to the pink puffball who'd been turned away, curiously fixated on those large portrait paintings of all the former smash champions lining the walls.
"Poyo...? Poyo!" Quickly snapping out of his fascination, he scuttled along the floor to catch up with his portly red-shirted opponent now waiting over at the designated area. Right as he got there, however, a distinct squeak of rusty metallic wheels rolling upon the tile floor arose and made almost everyone glance over.
Several Koopas and Toads from the stadium's staff were wheeling in a wide and flat-topped cart, perfectly lined to the brim with at least two hundred unique hand-sized trophy models. These were individually carved for each participating smasher by the hands of superb craftsmanship; the level of detail on every one of them was astounding.
More mysterious was the fact that they'd been crafted purely from sacred bronze-tinted wood of the ancient forests, which were only found at a few specific locations around Planet Veradeena and nowhere else. Perhaps most significantly of all, though, this wood also held some very special qualities; something that many people didn't hesitate to deem magical powers.
Each trophy had already been organized and placed in their proper ordering as per the brackets, yet it was also interesting, considering how this was the bicentennial tournament. Whether it was by a wild chance or some other factor, there was almost a perfect match with it being two hundred years and a little over two hundred trophies, meaning there was that same number of smashers present as well.
Luckily for Mario and Kirby, they had a big advantage of being first in this line. They retrieved their trophy models with ease, since they resided at the very front of the cart. The two then stepped over a few paces and came to a stop directly at a white line on the floor that was marked in front of those large glass doors, before the exit hall.
Now they stood side by side, staring down that broad tunnel which led straight out into the arena.
Behind them meanwhile, the hundreds of other smashers were all doing likewise, retrieving their trophies in proper order until this long line of duos weaved and trailed its way throughout the entirety of the training facility. Maybe the least that could be said now was that everything appeared less chaotic and much more orderly than the previous hour had been.
A ways down this growing column of smashers stood a shaky-legged Luigi and an optimistic Link, who was standing upright in contrast. He gave Luigi a hardy pat on the shoulder, offering him a thumbs-up gesture with a confident smile to accompany it.
He wanted to see if he too was excited, but the green-shirted plumber only managed to return his own quick smile, accompanied by a slightly uncertain chuckle. He tried his best to resist instinctively shuffling his wobbly feet in place. Even though Luigi still held that inner framework of his courage, it just needed to gain an outer face on him now.
Behind the green-clad duo and standing proud was Captain Falcon, appropriately paired with a very similar looking, buffly-built human counterpart whom he'd finally found courtesy of Lucina's assistance.
Speaking of which, just down the line behind them were Lucina, Marth, Roy, and Ike in that consecutive order. They were each standing side by side with other warriors or sword wielders as their respective foes.
Further past the Heroes of the Emblem, Little Mac confidently nudged his fellow human brawler opponent on the shoulder and cocked his head with a smile.
"Hey man, this is gonna be an awesome go, eh?" He asked excitedly, though the brawler merely shrugged; rather indifferent to the notion.
"Well... I know who you are from Aardas, Mac. And I mean, even if I lose, the point is... This is my first time here."
The boxer smiled in understanding since a good part of him was feeling the same way, yet the difference was that he knew how to channel it all down into positive energy.
"Nah... C'mon, don't say it like that," Mac then said in a bit of a pep-talk tone, just like Doc Louis had always done to him. "I'll say... It's my first time here too, but it'll be a real blast no matter who wins. Just think of it this way... It's us two out there in an over-sized boxing ring, am I right?"
A thoughtful grin crossed the brawler's face and he nodded. "Hm... Yeah, I guess you're right."
The two proceeded to bump their gloved fists with Mac's green against his blue, sharing a quick but supportive chuckle with one another.
After making sure his cap was on straight, Red held his selected pokéballs tightly in hand while his opponent trainer flexed his neck muscles, popping a few of them with a sly smirk on his face.
Directly behind Red were his usual-looking group of Pokémon: An eager-eyed Pikachu, a joyous Jigglypuff, an unperturbed Charizard, an optimistic Squirtle, and lastly, a calm though subtly-determined Greninja. Each of them were paired with their own Pokémon opponents from some of the other trainers.
Donkey Kong waited rather patiently and quietly with his creature-like opponent. Diddy, however, being paired with someone around his same young age, couldn't help but start monkeying around a little bit with his foe. They nudged each other back and forth, innocently seeing before hand who may in fact be the mightier one.
Further back in this long line still, Yoshi stood paired with one of his fellow entrants from Dinosaur Land. They'd occasionally exchange eager glances with each other as they waited too, ever excited for their first round match to come.
That special moment for everyone to emerge and reveal themselves to the crowds kept drawing closer and closer regardless. So many shapes and sizes of the paired smashers' figures swayed slowly in their places from time to time, silhouetted against that vivid light at the end of the exit hall ahead of them. Continuously spilling in from the outside this whole time as well was that deep and immense current of aural hype.
They were the people representing all of Sector N...
Everything shining outside of this enclosed training facility...
Appendages of all sorts; the hands, claws, wings, or paws of each and every smasher gripped around their small trophy models of themselves either in utter anxiousness, or with the greatest sense of calm. There was no such thing as wanting to turn back now, because the past had all been a pretense to this approaching moment.
Seconds began slowing to what seemed like a crawl in their perception of passing time. The only step remaining was to wait for the signal and then walk forward, becoming basked in the day's light and rapt in a warmth of pure adoration from the attention of the known galaxy.
The sheer anticipation of those feelings; all the eyes and cameras soon to be upon them was a rising sensation that gave many unfathomable shivers within, racing up and down their entire bodies from head to toe as they stood here waiting. Even for the many veteran smashers who'd been in several of these tournaments before, they couldn't help but feel the slightest tingle. Something truly felt new and special for this one.
It all seemed as though this must've been in a dream, yet it wasn't.
Everything was very much awake and breathing.
Everything was still delicate.