11-1: Fighting Wireframes

The simple stage. The cosmic colors. The smaller platforms. The memory of that battle slammed full force into Luigi like a Semi. Like a violently popped balloon, air began to rapidly expel from him. He felt as if something was compressing his stomach. His body seemed to reel in space, and he leaned on a platform for a sense of equilibrium. Then, his mouth opened, lungs expanding so that much-needed oxygen could float into them. His palms started to sweat, the back of his throat ached and feverishness exploded all over his face. He bit his lip so hard that his teeth split the skin. His bulbous nose became runny, wetness prickling at his eyes. Breaths came faster and faster and faster, and his vision began to warp, shapes materializing before his eyes as if he was being transported in time.

And he was standing there, watching himself being pounded sadistically by Koopa, watching himself having the advantage one moment and the next, being intercepted by those claws and sliced all over. Beefy, clawed hands and feet smashed into his face, his torso, his chest—smashed into him all over the place. He was gripped by those claws in a crushing hold and savagely slammed against the concrete stage again and again until his vision went fuzzy for a few seconds. The relentless shell spines shredded into his skin as Koopa did his Whirling Fortress and other shell-based attacks; the searing heat from that Fire Breath only made it worse. And the terrifying, sheer drop from the stage into the blast zone—five times—made his stomach drop to the floor. As he found his stock plummeting, he fought harder and harder, trying new strategies, holding on, refusing to give up. For his brother. For the Princess. For his fans. All in vain. Koopa would throw him like a piece of garbage into the blast zone after he got tired of slashing, slicing, flaying, goring, smashing and slamming his green-clad opponent, roaring in glee at the crowd's horrified interjections. There was blood literally bathing the stage and dripping off the other platforms. Luigi would never forget the smell. Defeat was inevitable for him now, but he kept fighting and fighting, defying the pain and blood loss, until he could fight no more.

The scene shifted again and now he was in the reception hall, looking calm as he applauded Koopa, a little raw, but who could blame him? There was Koopa, hefting the victory spoils in his hand and showing off his bulk, giving an impromptu, gloating speech to the crowd who tried their freaking best not to be salty. But wasn't Koopa the mother lode of salt? Master Hand had to step in and correct Koopa, saying that it was a good fight and that Luigi had battled well, too. Unfortunately, Koopa didn't listen and continued to snigger. Luigi blocked it out, listened to his body and mentally calculated how many more Shroom Shakes it would take to completely heal him. He'd sucked one down prior to the awards ceremony, a chocolate one made specially for him, and he'd found it delectable. The new Smash Lounge had a Shroom Shake Bar, with happy hour starting at 5p.m. and ending at closing time during which the Shroom Shakes were on the house. Perhaps Luigi would take advantage of Shroom Shake Happy Hour tonight.

And the scene shifted once more and he was standing in the replay room, claws digging into his scalp and forcing him to watch his own defeat. And then malevolent eyes burned a hole into his face as sneering lips said those words. And then another voice joining Koopa's voice, a voice he knew all too well, as the Gerudo materialized in the room, flinging barb after barb at the plumber. And then his heart pumped, harder, louder, faster; his vision tunneled into the replay and the turtle and the Gerudo. And then he wanted to scream at them, he wanted to let loose with every filthy word in both the English and Italian languages, he wanted to burn their skin and muscles from their bones with green fire, he wanted to violently beat them with his gloved fists over and over and over until their faces were broken, bloody messes, until their ribcages were decimated and until teeth and bone fragments were scattered all over the floor, he wanted to know WHY IN GOD'S NAME THOSE TWO WERE INVITED HERE AND WHAT SICK DRUG MASTER HAND HAD BEEN ON TO EVEN CONSIDER THE IDEA OF ACCEPTING THEIR APPLICATIONS, AND WHY THESE TWO WERE SO DRIVEN TO CAUSE THE SUFFERING OF OTHER SMASHERS BECAUSE THEY MADE HIM AND MARIO AND PEACH AND ZELDA AND LINK SUFFER ENOUGH IN THEIR OWN UNIVERSES, AND WHO DID THEY THINK THEY WERE AND WHY WASN'T ANYONE DOING ANYTHING ABOUT THEM AND WHY WERE THEY SAYING THESE THINGS TO HIM WHY WERE THEY DOING THIS TO HIM WHY WON'T THEY JUST LEAVE HIM ALONE OH GOD SOMEONE MAKE THEM STOP MAKE THEM STOP MAKE THEM STOP MAKE THEM STOP MAKE THEM STOP MAKE THEM STOP MAKE THEM STOP MAKE THEM STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP!

"Luigi?!"

Oh, Dio, thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!

Blue eyes, blue, tear-filled eyes, stared gratefully up at Master Hand as he hovered, concerned, over the man in green. His body was back to normal. He could breathe again. He could feel the ground under his boots, and he eased himself off the platform, sweat soaking him. It was like the moment a fever broke. Crystal clarity returned to him, and he realized that he'd interjected aloud, that he'd been crying and that he'd been beating the platform with his fists. He did a breathing exercise, calming down, cooling off, focusing back on the task at hand and locking the anger in a place where it would never touch him again.

"I'm sorry," he said finally.

"You don't have to ap…"

"No. I do. That was—improper—of a Smasher," Luigi said, his voice jerky from his release.

"Why won't you tell me what happened?" asked MH. "Maybe I can help you."

"They won't listen."

"I can make them listen," MH retorted. "Now, for the last time, what happened with Koopa and Ganondorf?"

Luigi drew in a deep breath. "The day I fought Koopa…"

"I know that you lost to him. Is that what this fixation on him is about?"

"No. After I lost, and I was on my way to clear my head, Koopa—he grabbed me and dragged me to the replay area. And he—he made me watch it again and again and—he hurt me!" His voice jumped up to a shriek.

"Calm down. What else?"

"He got in my face and he said—things. He called me—names! He said I was useless and shouldn't be considered a hero and a Smasher. I couldn't take it. And then Ganondorf showed up and laughed at me. They were both insulting me left and right and—I couldn't take it!" Tears popped out of his eyes as he finally confessed everything to Master Hand—the words, the insults, the rage and the brief obsession with improving himself.

"So that's why you—you…"

Luigi nodded. "Koopa underestimated me. Ganon underestimated me. They are absolutely DEAD WRONG about me. And I'm gonna prove it. They're gonna wish for a time machine to stop themselves from talking that trash by the time I'm through with them."

"I assure you, your chance will come," said MH, "but I need you to focus right now."

"Absolutely."

"Besides, the 15 Wireframes coming for you will take advantage of your emotional distress. Speaking of which, here they come now."

15 pink figures with the Smash symbol on their faces materialized. 8 women, 7 men. The female Wireframes were lean, graceful and flexible. The male Wireframes were bulky, tough and aggressive. They were cold and had no eyes, no nose and no mouth. Just that round circle with the lines through it—a faceless, emotionless mask. They didn't speak either—they only communicated through their actions. Some Wireframes worked with the Smashers in the Training Room. They staffed the lounges and the Shroom Shake Bar, coordinated awards ceremonies and other special events and manned the Smash Spa. But most of them were created exclusively for Adventure Mode—and Multi-Man Melee.

"You have fun with this one," MH said to the Wireframes as he departed.

The Wireframes nodded to the glove before turning back to Luigi and encircling him. They could smell his adrenaline. Along with something else. Blood. It painted his mouth from biting his lips during his flashbacks, and it circulated through his system as it pumped from his heart. Slowly, Luigi licked the blood from his lips and let his eyes flit from Wireframe to Wireframe. The rage had left his face. The ocean inside his eyes had stilled. His mind and body were prepared. He opened up his chest and diaphragm slightly so he could breathe easier. The breaths came out in gentle whispers and whistles while the 15 Wireframes edged closer. He was so calm and so cool. Standing there in the center of the Battlefield where he'd been beaten and humiliated weeks ago, he raised his fists, the same determination present that day coloring him once more. Only this time, he wasn't going to make mistakes or be intercepted. This time, he was going to win.

Luigi's pulse ping-ponged against the skin of his neck as the male and female bodies arranged themselves into a pattern around him. Could they feel the same surge of adrenaline as he? Could they feel the battle lust consuming him? Their faces were literally blank slates save for that emblem, but did they emote another way? A small part of him wondered if they were even clothed or if they had any—anatomy.

The male Wireframes appeared bald, but the female Wireframes had long "hair" pulled into a ponytail, running down their shoulder blades. They smelled like Zelda. The males smelled like Captain Falcon. They all assumed their fighting positions as well, only the rise and fall of their chests indicating their breathing. Icicle-blue eyes ghosted across the wiry pink curtain before him, picking and choosing a Wireframe to take down first.

READY—GO!

Luigi's body was braced for all 15 to pounce on him, but that didn't happen. Perhaps they'd watched him in battle and decided to take a few pages from his playbook. He noticed that the males tended to attack first, while the females went for mindgames. The first few males charged toward him, but Luigi threw a quick barrage of fireballs, sent a haymaker into the chest of one and then perfectly pivoted in time to nail another with a forward smash. A third aimed an axe kick at him, but Luigi spun aside, hooked him twice and then punched his torso repeatedly before kicking him in the edge of the body. The Wireframes had a rough and soft texture, like different types of cloth, but their fists hurt as hard as any Smasher's. Luigi learned the hard way when the males closed in on him, striking face, chest, stomach, hips and even the neck. Suddenly, he splayed them all over the stage with a Cyclone and picked out a particularly aggressive one to feast on with his blows. His body dodged and dipped away from the Wireframe's returning strikes, moving with precise motions while his mind picked the attack of choice to rail against the body. Did Wireframes have muscles? Luigi thought he could see little bumps and ridges in their physique which looked like muscle tones. Maybe it was just his imagination. He ducked a wiry fist to the temple and responded in kind before crumpling him with a smash combo and sending him off the stage before his buddies ran over to help. He flitted about their ranks, throwing spin kicks and karate chops, racking up the damage until he used his smashes to send them off to join their pal. That was when the females rushed in.

They were clever and crafty ones, reading his movements as easily as he read theirs. Plumber and female Wireframes were evenly matched, the former managing to squeak ahead using acrobatic footwork and some good old-fashioned timing. He tried to aim his blows at the center of the body, taking note of the way they bent in two or withered like plants. Smoothly, he danced about the Battlefield, in time with the purple-pink forms working against him, battering and pounding away. He noticed slight indentations which looked like belly buttons in the middle of the stomach region and slammed cupped palms against them, making his enemies reel forwards as if having the air knocked from them. Luigi would instantly follow up with even harder attacks to the abdomen, maybe some karate chops to the face. One Cyclone could KO two or three Wireframes at a time. Then, more males joined the females, peppering their lone adversary with brute strikes which would've felled most. They obviously never encountered a foe who passionately counterattacked the mores stamped on him for most of his life.

Pain rocketed through Luigi's body after a particularly nasty punch, but he poked his palm into the assailant's face, smashing him away. As more and more Wireframes filled his vision, he got his breath under control. He remembered MH's words. He needed to stay focused. It was easy to do so, since the Wireframes attacked harsher than the Polygons of days past. The ladies sometimes did teams on him while the guys coldly stood by as one male did the pounding. They were everywhere, cutting off his escape options and trying to smother him with their masses. He stayed strong, shouting his challenge and defiance at the top of his voice, continuing to tear up wire-based bodies. As Luigi's attacks increased in power, more Wireframes began flying off the stage. Some of them were hurled off. Males or females were lured away from their company with fireballs and then practically decimated. They tried to unnerve him by boxing him in; they'd listen to his breathing and study the sweat rolling down his chin and underneath his top as he glared at them. He had a good, strong, firm neck, the Adam's apple bouncing lightly, the tendons standing out whenever his skin went taut. He felt the sweat covering him like a blanket as he dodged melee attacks and let his fists fly. His arms were like rapiers every time he threw a Trowel Stab. He'd hit the floor every so often for a down smash or a down tilt. Due to the crowded environment, he couldn't cut loose with those combos, but he could short hop and throw out some aerials to push his attackers away.

Most of the males had been knocked out. Maybe because the females were more cautious. They didn't leap on him like enraged wildebeests when the going got tough. They'd slip in and give him a pounding while he was distracted. It was only polite for Luigi to return the favor. He dodged, leaped, backflipped and wavedashed, hacking at the literally wired bodies. He rocketed himself from one end of the stage to the other, sending both males and females flying. They made no noise, even as hailstorms of blows bruised their flank. Even as they fell into oblivion. The only sound present was Luigi, shouting dares at the Wireframes, provoking them to get in his face so he could make them regret it. Sharp kicks cracked jaws. Smash attacks encountered faces and abdominal areas. 15 fighters shrunk to 10, to 5, to 3 and finally to 1.

And this Wireframe, this lone wireframe, hung back for a moment to study Luigi, cocking her head slightly and brushing the "hair" from her faceless face. Luigi smiled disarmingly at her and allowed her to come close and feel his energy. Her body was like a willow as she fluidly moved toward him, and then firmed up her stance as she raised her fists once more.

Luigi took this as his cue to throw a fireball. The Wireframe dodged, but Luigi intercepted with a kick, knocking her sprawling. She got up, but Luigi had already gotten into position to grab her and start a combo. Whenever she air-dodged, he'd just re-grab her. He chain threw her against the upper platforms and let go with his swift chops. Then, he executed his Screwdriver Kick, sometimes on the stage to bring the combo to the ground and other times off the stage to attempt the meteor smash. But she could vault herself to safety and retaliate with swift kicks and punches. This Wireframe wasn't quite like the rest.

Even so, Luigi managed to defeat her. Rather than use a Super Jump Punch or a d-air spike, Luigi chose to grab her, swing her three times and then let go, the power of the throw enough to launch her beyond the blast line.

SUCCESS!

"Nice to see that you've calmed down some," MH said brightly.

"I know," said Luigi. "Seeing this stage just brought back a lot of memories."

"Can you hang in there a little while longer?"

Two glinting, metallic figures dropped from the sky onto the top platform of the Battlefield. Slowly and robotically, they unstuck themselves from the platform and stood up, facing each other.

Ominously, they hopped down onto the main platform on either side of Luigi. That was when the plumber recognized one of the metallic figures.

Metal Mario.

Which meant that the other guy was—Metal Luigi.

The Metal Bros were ready for action!

More to come!