Pikana, the Thunder Mistress

Again, thanks for all your wonderful reviews! And of course, as promised, we will now see less human action, more Smashers kicking butt action!

Disclaimer: Do I really need to state the obvious? I mean, if I don't put this every chapter will I go to Hell or something'? Someone tell me why I need to put this stupid thing every chapter!

The grass was cool, soothing her tired bare feet as she slowly walked into the clearing. Taking a deep breath, she allowed herself to simply be carried away by her imagination, her mind revelling in her freedom. It had not been long since she had been forced to work in a factory day and night, creating synthetic Smashballs for Lord Tabuu. They had been scantily clothed and meagrely fed in the factories. Worse of all, they were abused like there was no tomorrow. And yet here she was, free as a bird, free to do whatever she wished, whenever she wished.

"Hey, if you're done lazing about, it's high time we build a fire," Pit said irritably, "Just my luck, getting stuck with a lazy human like you…"

A scowl crossed Psyche's features. "Look who's talking. I'm the one doing all the work while you're hanging out up there doing who knows what!"

"If I had my body right now…"

"Well, you don't," his guardian retorted, "Now if you're going to do nothing all day except give me a headache, I suggest you keep quiet unless you'd want to keep living as smoke or whatever you are for the rest of your life…"

Before Pit could come up with an answer, he couldn't help but feel a single drop of water land on Psyche's head as she searched the ground for potential firewood. Though he ignored it at first, another drop soon made its landing on her head, gone unnoticed by the girl. That drop was followed by another, then another. An ice cold wind rushed by, sending shivers down the girl's spine. Despite this, she continued to search for firewood as if none of this bothered her, but she could not help but begin shivering as another cold wind blew past.

"Aha!" she crowed happily, spying a large number of sticks on the ground, "Found some!"

"Hey genius, in case you haven't noticed it's starting to rain!"

With a small huff of annoyance, Psyche gathered up as much firewood as she could carry and began running. Pit's golden bow bounced against her as she continued to run, her deep brown eyes searching for a cave, a cabin, anything to shelter her from the downpour that had just begun. Taking care to keep the precious wood dry, she dashed in the direction of a lone cave, not caring if it had a bear in it or not. The diary of Master Hand was among this pile of firewood and she knew that if a single drop of water landed on one of the yellowed pages, it would be lost forever.

She collapsed on the cave floor, depositing the firewood on the ground. The diary she took care to keep it as far away from her dripping hair as possible. Her ragged clothes did little to shield her from the cold wind that blew constantly into the cave. She was dripping wet and freezing, her teeth chattering unintentionally as she gathered up the wood and shuffled deeper into the cave.

Mumbling incoherent curses to herself, she proceeded to build the fire. Rubbing the soft wood sticks alongside each other, she mentally cursed herself for not having the foresight to at least search for some flint rocks. This thought did not go unnoticed by the Smasher who had taken residence in her mind.

"I agree! You are an idiot!" Pit exclaimed, "Not even having the brains to at least look for some flint first!"

"S-Shut up!" she snapped through her chattering teeth, "You weren't the one who just ran through the rain holding a ton of firewood and a bow!"

Pit's next words dripped with sarcasm, each word flung out like it was poison. "Oh yeah, I can definitely do all the work for you! Especially considering the fact that when I possess you, your energy will be drained a lot more than when I'm not possessing you! And of course I'll help you out with your work! Oh wait… I DON'T HAVE A BODY!!!"

"Well, why don't you go make yourself useful and get the heck out of my head so I can work?"

The last word was spat out in a similar manner, full of hatred and disdain for the angel. For a few moments, nothing passed between the two except a hardened, horrible silence. Their thoughts intermingled, both of them able to hear exactly how much the other hated them.

It was finally broken by a small crackling as the tiniest of all sparks appeared on the firewood. Her excitement growing, Psyche leaned in and gently blew on the wood. The spark transformed into a tiny flame, barely big enough for a candle to hold. More blowing turned it into a cheerful crackle and then into a roaring fire. Triumph rose in Psyche's heart as she leaned back against the wall and admired her handy work. The orange glow of the flames gently illuminated the cave, the never-ending warmth surrounding her and filling her with a sense of peace.

Visions danced around her as she continued to gaze into the flames. She saw happier days when she and Austin were both in the nursery, carefree and innocent. Neither of them knew about the world of the slaves, how harshly they were treated and how little they mattered in the world. Even when they were slaves the boy was always able to provide that little golden spark in her life, the thing that kept her alive and happy, despite the horrid conditions. In spite of herself, she allowed a single tear to roll down her grubby cheek at the thought that those days and the many days they were both supposed to live through were gone. Forever.

It was not long before her eyelids began to droop and her body relaxed. The warmth of the fire was alluring and soothing, gently dragging her into the warm embrace of sleep. Her consciousness slowly slid away from the world, not caring about the young angel that now lived in her mind. For the first time in what seemed like years, Psyche slept peacefully.

Deep within her mind, Pit was able to sense his young guardian wink out of consciousness as the heat of the fire surrounded her. He could sense how deeply she slept; feel the rhythmic breathing of her chest as she slept on. Her thoughts were mere whispers now, replaced instead with visions of wonderful new worlds and those who were long dead alive again. She was dreaming…

Most potent of all seemed to be that he could now feel a new feeling within her mind. He had sensed this draining away as she ran and laboured to keep herself alive, but this was a new feeling. Rather than the substance leaving her, it was entering her, filling her, and preparing her for the next day. He had sensed this before, when she was in a fitful sleep, but never had he felt such a strange and wondrous feeling as she slept a peaceful sleep. He knew that the strange substance could only be one thing: energy.

"So humans gain energy when they sleep…" he murmured to no one in particular, "So if she's gaining energy, that means I can get out of her head for a bit longer…" Without another thought, he closed his eyes and concentrated, feeling his form wavering slightly as he disappeared.

And then, he was soaring over the moor, going hundreds of miles an hour. For the first time in a long time, Pit smiled, feeling as if he was finally where he belonged. He was flying, flying for the first time in a hundred years. He turned flips in midair, did cartwheels, crowed his happiness to the heavens above.

But this was not right. He looked down at himself, seeing his transparent hands and feet. He was a spirit, a meagre little slip of the warrior he once was. True, he was floating high above the ground, almost being able to touch the clouds. But he could not feel the wind whipping past him as he kept flying. He was a spirit, a ghost who could not feel the soothing moisture of the clouds, could not taste the salty sea air as he flew over the ocean. He felt strangely empty inside, as if a part of his own soul had just been ripped away and floated off.

Pit gently closed his hands into fists, unable to feel his own skin as he fought desperately to not cry out in misery. His transparent form trembled with despair, though he could not feel it. He bit down hard on his bottom lip, though no blood could be shed. He was a spirit, a ghost. He was nothing in this world, nothing!

"It's alright," he whispered to himself, "I'll have my body back soon and… and everything's going to be alright…"

Summoning up all his phantom speed, Pit zoomed off in the direction of a great mountain in the distance. In his great hurry he did not notice the bright streak of white he left in the midnight sky. Any human who dared to look up in the sky that night mistook him for a shooting star and those who were able to see this streak collapsed on their knees, their lips forming a silent prayer only they could hear.

**

Mount Smash was a truly wondrous place. Taller than any mountain on the Smash Planet, it is said that no human could ever reach the top or get even close to it. Caves were dotted here and there upon the great mountain, fabled to lead to the world of the Smashers, each of them full of magic and mystery.

The citizens of Smashville used to whisper about what laid at the top of Mount Smash. Many of them claimed that there was treasure of great value hidden at the top. Others agreed that it was possibly a portal to the world where Master and Crazy Hand originated from. Still others came to believe that the top of the mountain did not exist at all. It merely kept going on and on and those foolish enough to try scaling it would soon die from lack of oxygen and starvation.

It was only a thousand years after the rumours of Mount Smash began that a human was courageous and bold enough to scale Mount Smash and make it to the very top. Sworn to secrecy, this man had been rewarded heartily by Master Hand. He was made into a Smasher, the first Smasher, in fact. His name was Mario Mario.

At the very top he had seen a great training ground and base, stocked full of weapons and plenty of good foods. As more and more Smashers joined the ranks, the base and training grounds soon grew to hold a great many things from the many worlds that had come together thanks to the Super Smash Brothers Tournament. It was a wonderful sight to see with Samus's spare powersuit leaning near a basket full of wooden training swords or a few mannequins modelling some of Peach's dresses while a shelf full of Link's bombs hung overhead.

Alone of all the places in Smashville was this base untouched by Lord Tabuu. Since both he and his Primids were unable to scale the mountain themselves, the base remained relatively untouched for a hundred years. And still in the middle of the great room stood a massive table, holding up the jars containing the souls of the Smashers. Two of these jars were empty and overturned, as if a force had pushed the souls out of their jars and into the open. It wasn't long until one of the vapours, a light yellow one, stirred. Two black eyes appeared soon after and a sound escaped the jar, like a yawn. He was soon joined by more yawns and noises and it was not long until all the jars with vapours in them had eyes.

"Another day," a jar of grey vapour muttered irritably, "Another stupid boring day…"

"Cheer up, Wolf!" a jar of pink gas said earnestly, "After all, let's not forget that Pit and Samus have both escaped! Who knows, one of us might be next!"

Wolf rolled his eyes. "Peach, it's been a hundred years. I'm pretty sure that old hand was in over his head and didn't put the seal on properly or something…"

"Don't-a talk about Master Hand-a that way!" a cherry red fog said indignantly, "After all-a, if it weren't-a for him, we wouldn't-a be here right now!"

"Shut up, plumber," Bowser's voice said, coming from a jar of puce green gas.

Suddenly, a pure white streak sailed into the room, shining so bright it would blind any human who dared to look at it. For a few moments, it began to spin. Then, it took shape, forming arms and legs, then hands and feet. The head and body followed them and was soon joined by a pair of perfect white wings sprouting out of the shoulders. Pit's transparent form floated nonchalantly in front of his fellow Smasher, surveying them all with a tiny spark of happiness in his eyes.

"Pit!" the Smashers exclaimed all at once.

A small smile crossed the angel's face as the chorus of voices rose to meet him. "Hey guys, long time no see…"

Down in the very front, he could very clearly see Lucas's light orange cloud and Ness's light yellow cloud eagerly staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "What's it like?"

The smile quickly melted into a hard scowl. "Horrible! The humans are weak as heck and the town's a mess! I don't know what Master Hand was playing at when he said that the humans were to help us, but I'm not liking it one bit! Those humans are so weak and so useless and-"

"On the contrary, I believe they're quite powerful for humans."

In a sudden flash of electric blue, Samus was there. Like Pit, she was transparent and floating, a smile upon her lips. Way in the back, both Captain Falcon and Snake's eyes widened at the sight of the beautiful blonde woman now towering over them. She ignored the two and turned back to Pit.

"My guardian's a nice kid. Sure he could use a bit more training, but once that's over and done with, he could be unstoppable!"

"Trade you guardians," Pit mumbled angrily, "Mine's weak, lazy, and useless! She can't wield a bow or a sword to save her life and everything she knows about the outside world could fit into a thimble!"

"Calm down, Pit," Marth said evenly, his voice coming from a cloud of ocean blue, "After all, the girl could still be trying to adjust to the thought of you living within her and not every human could possibly be the same. Perhaps the conditions she was brought up in…"

"That still doesn't matter," Pit scoffed, "She should at least be able to wield a bow…"

An icy silence fell between the confined Smashers and the freed ones. Finally, Pikachu broke the silence, his voice cracking slightly out of fear.

"So… when are they going to get here? Your guardians, I mean…"

Samus thought for a moment before answering. "Golfer's got a good ten days worth of food. And even then he's pretty close to Mount Smash right now. I'd say about another seven day's hike should do it. Pit?"

The scowl deepened. "We'd be lucky if she'd make it here somewhere during the next millennium, that stupid little twit…"

Link couldn't take it anymore. "Pit, that's enough from you! Okay, we all understand that she's not up to your standards, but good goddess, calm down! You've only been with her for a week and she needs time to adjust!"

"She should've adjusted by now!" Pit snapped back, "But she hasn't, has she? That's because she can't! I don't know what Lady Fate was playing at when she stuck me with her, but I'd like a word or two with her!"

Before Link could protest back, Zelda intervened, her voice high and commanding. "Stop it! Stop it the both of you! Pit, you need to chill out about your guardian and give her time to adjust. She's probably a delicate girl who needs to take her time so she won't exhaust herself. And Link, as gallant as it is to defend Pit's guardian like that, you should keep that temper of yours under control! Pit just got out of his jar and he's still a bit short tempered from when he was trapped in there! You know how claustrophobic he is!"

The two men obeyed, taking to merely glaring at each other in the icy silence. Samus cleared her throat as they did this, putting on a false cheerful smile.

"Well, I best be going! My guardian's going to wake up soon and with a guy like him, you just never know when someone's going to jump out and attack!"

With that, she disappeared in a streak of bright electric blue. After mumbling an inaudible goodbye, Pit disappeared as well, leaving the other Smashers to talk amongst themselves through the jars.

"Wow… Pit's awfully… irritable…" Red the Pokemon Trainer said awkwardly.

"He's probably still recovering from that awful claustrophobia," Kirby sighed, "It did start to get pretty annoying when he would wake up in the middle of the night screaming…"

"But it got better after about fifty years or so!" Peach put in cheerfully, "And that's the important thing!"

The Smashers sat in silence for a few moments more, each lost in their own thoughts. Suddenly, there was a great rumbling, as well as a brilliant flash of light. Lightning crackled outside and struck the ground, illuminating the dark little room where the Smashers were kept. Some screamed in fear while others simply widened their eyes. Still others stayed calm, on the verge of anticipation. They knew what was happening and many of them willed the lightning bolt to strike their jar, freeing them from captivity. Unexpectedly a single lightning bolt descended, striking the top of a jar tucked away in the corner of the table. With a sudden gust of wind, the electric yellow vapour kept within was whisked away out into the world. The other Smashers looked on in awe as this vapour escaped, some with jealousy while others with hope. For Pikachu, the yellow mouse Pokemon had escaped into the night sky.

**

Fear. That was the first thing the little Pokemon felt as he zoomed over great forests and pastures. Fear gripped his heart in its icy grip and refused to let go.

Pikachu couldn't help but feel a strange lurching in his stomach as he zoomed over what was left of Smashville since the Second Subspace War. It was a wasteland of a city, full of debris and muck. It was a truly saddening sight indeed and the little mouse Pokemon could not help but stare as he passed over what was once his home.

It was not long until he found himself careening towards a lone building on a hill. Tall and dark it was, with a barbed wire fence and a great many watch towers surrounding it. Every few feet stood an armed security guard, looking quite out of place in the dark surroundings. Pikachu's eyes widened in horror as he found himself misting through a barred cell window. The cell itself was a horribly dark place, padded tightly and smelling of fungus. A foul smelling hole in the farthest corner of the room signalled a place where a prisoner would relieve themself. Of course, what horrified the poor little electric mouse most was the figure, a human that was locked in this torturous nightmare of a cell.

Dressed in rags she was, similar to the ones slaves wore only this was much more ragged and dirty than the rags of the slaves. Her long black hair hung down her face in clumps, looking as if it hadn't been washed in days. Grime and sweat covered her face, as well as her thin arms and legs and she huddled in a dark corner of the room. A ragged sound escaped her throat with her every breath, causing her long bangs to flutter gently as she snored on. A sudden surge of pity found its way into Pikachu's heart as he continued to float there, nothing more than a yellow cloud of smoke.

Taking a deep breath, he began to descend, entering the girl's mind through her left ear. For a moment, he could see only thick black darkness as it crowded around him, welcoming him to the mysterious girl's mind. He could easily see her thoughts, her dreams. Every single one of them was rather scattered and wild. One dream featuring dancing pickles floated by. Another dream featuring humans taking over the world whizzed past. Still another one with plenty of nuclear explosions came to meet him as he continued to tour her mind. He could tell that she had been here a while and that most of her thoughts, all of them really, were rather scattered and at times, crazy. He could see how much she loved Pokemon, the little creatures of his home world. Scatterbrained though she was, he could see that she meant well despite these things and that her spirit was hard, very hard, to break.

Summoning his courage, the little Pokemon managed to find his voice. "Uh… hello?"

There was a sudden jolt as the girl's head shot up, her almond shaped eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Who's there? If that's you again, Bob, I don't wanna talk!"

Pikachu frowned in confusion. "Bob?"

"So you're not Bob…" the girl murmured, "You sound like a new voice… what's your name, new voice?"

Still taken aback, the electric mouse managed to answer her, though just barely. "Um… my name is Pikachu and-"

"PIKACHU!!!!" the girl interrupted with a squeal, "Holy cow I have Pikachu living inside my head! That's awesome!"

"Erm…" he could not help but feel slightly afraid of the girl, wondering if the strange force that had blown him here had pushed him in the wrong direction or something.

"My name's Anna, by the way," she continued, "Anna Star, but you can call me Anna! And if you see Bob up there, tell him to get his lazy butt up and say hello to ya! He's been living up there in my head since I was 5 and he wouldn't leave. He's the reason why I'm in this stupid place in the first place!"

Pikachu's stomach squirmed slightly in fear of the girl he now inhabited. He did not understand just what in the world made her tick. Her thoughts whizzed past him, all of them still quite scattered and possibly more insane than ever. Despite his fears, he tried again.

"So… what are you in here for?"

Anna snorted. "Why am I in the asylum? Well, that's a pretty funny story 'cause I'm not sure either! One moment, I was on the street talking to Bob and then the next I was being dragged in here by those Primids! Of course, I guess it didn't help when I tried looking at them straight in the eye… they started babbling about how I had this weird gold spark in my eye and how that I might be a problem to 'Lord Tabuu' and stuff like that…"

"Wait a minute… you can understand the Primids?"

Anna gave an enthusiastic nod. "Yep! I don't see how people can't learn the language. I mean, once you get all the gargling mastered you can pretty much speak it fluently. Of course, there's that weird factor where a ton of the gargling sounds the same, but I can still understand it! Like that one time when they were talking outside my door and…"

"Will you be offended if I say that you're insane?" Pikachu asked, fearing the worse.

To his great surprise, Anna threw back her head and let out an insane cackle. It seemed to echo for miles around, rattling the bones of everyone who heard it. Pikachu's fear of her only increased at the sound of her insane laughter, causing him to wish he were back in his little old jar.

"How's that for crazy?" she asked when finished.

The Pokemon could only manage a small gulp as she continued to babble on excitedly. Though he was still quite scared, he could not help but listen.

"Say, here's a cool thought! How about since you're Pikachu and I'm Anna and we're both sharing the same head, let's call ourselves… Pikana!" she said excitedly, "Pikana, the Thunder Mistress!"

"T-That sounds… nice…" Pikachu managed, "Um… we'll need to get out of here to meet the others and-"

"No can do!" the newly christened Pikana cut in, "Just look at what they did!"

With another horrifying lurch in his stomach, Pikachu's eyes widened in horror as he gazed through a white portal at the chain at Pikana's feet. Jet black and heavy it was, encircling her ankle and chaining her to the wall. Though it was long enough to allow her to walk about her cell, it looked horribly uncomfortable. He wondered how she could possibly be able to sleep with such a device attached to her. Then again, her behaviour told him that she probably didn't sleep much at all.

"So we're stuck here?" he asked, a note of disappointment creeping into his voice.

Pikana nodded. "Looks like it."

Pikachu sighed in disbelief, his transparent shoulder slumping in defeat. He knew there was only one hope left, but it was a risky one and might cost the girl, Pikana, whatever was left of her sanity. And yet he knew that there was no other way. If his guardian was to break free and fulfil her full potential, he had to take this chance.

"O Mighty Arceus," he prayed, "Take pity on this poor Pokemon and bless this girl with your divine power! Bless her so we may have a chance at saving the known worlds!"

**

"Hold on a sec, I think I can sense something..." Samus murmured as Golfer walked past the dark building.

Her guardian raised an eyebrow. "Sense something? Here? The most you can sense here is how nuts the people here are! This is an asylum!"

"I'm pretty aware of that," Samus told him patiently, "But what I'm talking about right now is what's entering the asylum right now… can't you somehow sense a sudden surge of… power going in there?"

Now that she had pointed it out, he found that she was right. Sure enough, a strange aura seemed to radiate from the building, as if a powerful force was inside it. This force, though weak at first, was now growing in strength, filling him with a sense of pride. Lightning crackled through the air, seeming aimed particularly at a single barred window on the rightmost wall. On the other side of this window, he could very clearly hear a raucous cackling, a laugh that sent a chill down his spine.

"So you notice it too?" the bounty huntress asked.

A small surge of impatience went through her as she saw that he had made no move to answer her. Instead, he simply stood there, transfixed by the cackling that had wafted from the rightmost window. Trying to keep her hot temper under control, she tried again.

"Do you notice it as well?"

"Huh?" he asked, still slightly distracted.

Samus let out an exasperated sigh. "Men…"

"I heard that!"

In spite of herself, the bounty huntress smirked. "Either way, we should try paying a visit to her… she could use some help…"

Golfer was amazed. "How could you tell she was a girl?"

Samus let out a laugh. "Hello, genius! That cackle was obviously a girl's!"

A light blush appeared on the boy's face. "Oh… right…"

"Got a grappling hook?"

A small bead of sweat slid down his cheek. For a moment, he only fumbled a bit with the sling he had constructed to carry his broken left arm, but said nothing. Finally, he found his voice.

"Well… you see… we never really learned anything about grappling hooks at the academy…"

Another sigh from Samus caused his cheeks to redden even more. "Man, what do they teach you over there? Okay, it's simple. Just grab some of that barbed wire…"

"You're kidding me, right?" he asked in disbelief, "Those things hurt!"

"Well, it's either grappling hook or you can try to go through the front door and hope for the best…"

"Easy for you to say," he muttered, approaching the fence, "You don't have a broken arm… or a body…"

With Samus's chuckles ringing in his ears, he proceeded to grapping the wire, trying his best not to cry out in pain.

**

It was his turn. He knew it from the moment the lightning began crackling in the night sky. Quick as a whip, his jar had been opened and he was rushed right out, nothing more than a lime green vapour against the midnight black sky. He was free.

He knew not where he was going, nor did he care. All that mattered was that he was free. Free from the container he grew to hate. Free from all the problems that arose in that jar. Free…

As he soared away, far away, he could see the lime green streak he left reflected in the blue water below. His large eyes widened even more at the sight of how beautiful it was. Though he was saddened at the current condition of Smashville, he could not help but leap with joy at the thought that this strange wind was bringing him closer and closer to his old home.

"Watch out guys," he whispered, "I'm coming home…"

He could see it in the distance, his excitement building to breaking point. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself for the beauty of the island he missed so much.

"No…"

This place… it had to be a mistake. There were no plants, no life. Every inch of the island he loved was nothing more than a barren, desolate waste land. Every tree, every stone had been badly burned. All the homes were burned as well. With a lurch in his stomach, the Smasher could see bones dotted here and there. The bones of his friends? There seemed to be nothing left of his home.

Just as quickly as it had brought him there, the wind bore him away. One part of him wanted to go, to leave the desolate land. The other part wished nothing more than to stay, to mourn over the loss of his loved ones.

Unable to do anything else, he prepared himself to allow his tears to fall. But try as he might, the salty drops refused to come. He cried out, trying his hardest to show his respect for his old home. Realization dawned on him then and there, feeling like a razor sharp blade in the very core of his heart.

He was a ghost, a spirit. He could try his best to shed tears, but he knew he couldn't. Spirits can't cry.

Okay… so I lied about the kicking butt part in this one… but next one! Yeah, this was getting kinda long and I really wanted to get it out and… yeah… sorry!

But on the bright side, we saw lots of Smasherness in this one, right? RIGHT!?!?!?