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_҉ _
͢
.͏ ͏_
.̨ ҉.͟ .̷
͟
̵_̡
̀
.̛
̷
.͜ ͢_ .͜
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_͖̞̫̩̭̺̝ ̰̙̰_̝
̼͓̙̯̪̹
. ̩͖͔̯̲_̤̩̪̥̥̝ͅ
̖̦̖̟̗.̥̣̤͚ͅ ͉̙.̦͉ͅ ͈.͖̗̲͉͖͕͇
̙_̘͚̤̹
̭̱̝̟
.̖͎
͎̥̜̺̫̖̣
͍͖.̬̫͈̹̳ _̘̗͓̬ ͉̮̫͇̱͓.͚͉̜̣
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_̱͖̟̲͈͡ ̡̹̪̦_̢͈̞̝͟
͍̤́
͇͔̠͖̹͞.̟̫̯͖ͅͅ ̭͕͚̝͕͚͈̠̕͜_̷̨̞͠
̘͖̱̱
̧̲͇̲͓̙̰̠.͓̣͈̮͈͚ ̗̪͉̯.̵̨̲͙̩͔̮̞̟̹ ̗͙̪́͞.͚̼͘͘͝
̡͇̪̞̟̼͢͞ͅ
̷̳̞̱_͏̴̬͍̯͕̤̮͠
҉̰͔̠͉
̟̟͉͖̦̻̘̲.͖̭͘͠
̱̲͎͓͓̫͙̤̭́͝
̭̯͡.̠̰͙̫̥̜̟̬͠͝ ̶̖̦̤̤͙̞̞̺͢_̛̰̱̬̣͖͟͟ ̥̰̗̯͍̕͢͡.̴̨̖̥̯̜̱̝͚͞
...
...
...
_ͭ̌ͥ̄͐̾͑̃͒̃͑̉̈͋̏͠҉̮͚̯̦̥̕ ̴̘͍͕͖̰͍͈̖̪̩̘̺̤̻ͨ̂͑̄̌͢͢_̶̛͍̰̮̠̤̦̊̀͂ͤ̏̆̈́͊̇̊̆ͣ̐͗̃̂͂ͩ̀̀̚͘
̡̡̳̱̟̮̪ͯ͐̐ͬ̕͜
̴̴̵͍̬̝̤͙̺͖̰͕̅̂̑͌̾ͮ̎ͧ̋.̧̢̨̖̫̜̼ͧ̈́ͮ̆̽͆͆ͬ̈̚̕͝ ̽̓̂ͩͥ̓̎͛̐͋͒̃̂̀̋͆͜͡҉̡̥͍̪͉͇͓̗̰̖̪͟_̢̰̫̪̥̪͉̝ͪ̐ͧͤ̈̓ͣ̄̿̍̆ͬ̌͋͠
̶̷̧̱̱̳̻͚̱̼̭͕̤͉̥̫̤̘̥̙ͬ̇ͫ̓̏̈̈̿́̚͢ͅ
̷̡̠͎̳̥͉̗̔͛̃̑̅ͤ͒͛̾ͪ̆̂͐̂͌͐͆̇́͘.̨̲̝̩͓̫͚̪͕̱͍̣̓̃̊̓̎͑͋ͯͧ̋̍̊ͧͨ́ ̛̝̫̦͉̣͓̰̹̆ͭ̉̌͛͛̒ͥ̈͌̌͑́ͭ̀̀.̴̵ͭ̋ͫ̉̾̃̇̅͌ͧͧ͒ͩ̇͊͢҉̵̺̹͈̖̟̻̰̪̺̙̺͉͎ ̶̴̢̉͊͑͛͒̎͐̾̉̎͊̉̒̌ͤͦ̂ͪ͠҉̬̖̟͉͍̪.̴̧̩̼̭͙̯͚̣̝̳̩̪͇̑̈̇́͆ͤ̐̏ͮ̈́̃ͧͪͩͭ̑ͣ͘ͅ
̧̡̧̮̱̭̹̺̟̫̪͈͈͕͎̪̣̍͗͒̅͋͂̈́̒̍
̡̢̖͈̳̘̰͙̝̃ͩ̈́̒͛͗̊̔͗ͫͬ̒ͮ͋̕_̸̧̛̦̙̠̠̱̪̼̘̙̺̻̣͖̤̳̟ͤ̌ͬ̓͝ͅ
̹̯̣̼͍̰͈͋̿͊́̕
̡͍̳͚̟͖͇͉͇͎͈̳̖̻͌̎̈͋ͨ̊̐.̧̟͓̞̤͎ͪ̌̏ͦͭ͋͋ͪͩ̑̆̉
̒ͨ͋̇̃̆̄̂̀ͯͭ͑͊͏̞̥̝̙͔͙͖̺͚͙͕̦̙̲̣̹
̴̶̨͖͓͓̲̹̼̽ͯͩ͑̿ͧͦ̾̎́.̸̧̻̥͓͍͍̲̓̎ͯ͋ͭ̃̈́͌̒͂̓̉̀̚̕ ̵̓̿͆ͤ̚̚҉̸͏̪͇̝̗͝_̶̹͓͉͔̫͇̬̳̗̊̄͌̽̔̄̀̀̃̔̉͡ ͎̩͖͓̹̫̟͉̙̰̟͚͈̺̲̮̺̟̰̃̂ͨ́̉͜͞͠.̡̘͍̞̟̰͇̬͚̙̍ͫͥ͗́́
_ͭ̌ͥ̄͐̾͑̃͒̃͑̉̈͋̏͠҉̮͚̯̦̥̕ ̴̘͍͕͖̰͍͈̖̪̩̘̺̤̻ͨ̂͑̄̌͢͢_̶̛͍̰̮̠̤̦̊̀͂ͤ̏̆̈́͊̇̊̆ͣ̐͗̃̂͂ͩ̀̀̚͘
̡̡̳̱̟̮̪ͯ͐̐ͬ̕͜
̴̴̵͍̬̝̤͙̺͖̰͕̅̂̑͌̾ͮ̎ͧ̋.̧̢̨̖̫̜̼ͧ̈́ͮ̆̽͆͆ͬ̈̚̕͝ ̽̓̂ͩͥ̓̎͛̐͋͒̃̂̀̋͆͜͡҉̡̥͍̪͉͇͓̗̰̖̪͟_̢̰̫̪̥̪͉̝ͪ̐ͧͤ̈̓ͣ̄̿̍̆ͬ̌͋͠
̶̷̧̱̱̳̻͚̱̼̭͕̤͉̥̫̤̘̥̙ͬ̇ͫ̓̏̈̈̿́̚͢ͅ
̷̡̠͎̳̥͉̗̔͛̃̑̅ͤ͒͛̾ͪ̆̂͐̂͌͐͆̇́͘.̨̲̝̩͓̫͚̪͕̱͍̣̓̃̊̓̎͑͋ͯͧ̋̍̊ͧͨ́ ̛̝̫̦͉̣͓̰̹̆ͭ̉̌͛͛̒ͥ̈͌̌͑́ͭ̀̀.̴̵ͭ̋ͫ̉̾̃̇̅͌ͧͧ͒ͩ̇͊͢҉̵̺̹͈̖̟̻̰̪̺̙̺͉͎ ̶̴̢̉͊͑͛͒̎͐̾̉̎͊̉̒̌ͤͦ̂ͪ͠҉̬̖̟͉͍̪.̴̧̩̼̭͙̯͚̣̝̳̩̪͇̑̈̇́͆ͤ̐̏ͮ̈́̃ͧͪͩͭ̑ͣ͘ͅ
̧̡̧̮̱̭̹̺̟̫̪͈͈͕͎̪̣̍͗͒̅͋͂̈́̒̍
̡̢̖͈̳̘̰͙̝̃ͩ̈́̒͛͗̊̔͗ͫͬ̒ͮ͋̕_̸̧̛̦̙̠̠̱̪̼̘̙̺̻̣͖̤̳̟ͤ̌ͬ̓͝ͅ
̹̯̣̼͍̰͈͋̿͊́̕
̡͍̳͚̟͖͇͉͇͎͈̳̖̻͌̎̈͋ͨ̊̐.̧̟͓̞̤͎ͪ̌̏ͦͭ͋͋ͪͩ̑̆̉
̒ͨ͋̇̃̆̄̂̀ͯͭ͑͊͏̞̥̝̙͔͙͖̺͚͙͕̦̙̲̣̹
̴̶̨͖͓͓̲̹̼̽ͯͩ͑̿ͧͦ̾̎́.̸̧̻̥͓͍͍̲̓̎ͯ͋ͭ̃̈́͌̒͂̓̉̀̚̕ ̵̓̿͆ͤ̚̚҉̸͏̪͇̝̗͝_̶̹͓͉͔̫͇̬̳̗̊̄͌̽̔̄̀̀̃̔̉͡ ͎̩͖͓̹̫̟͉̙̰̟͚͈̺̲̮̺̟̰̃̂ͨ́̉͜͞͠.̡̘͍̞̟̰͇̬͚̙̍ͫͥ͗́́
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.̷̷̧̟̖̤͉̰̙̰͔̮̞̫͔̪̤͔̖̪͋ͫ̔̌͐͋͛̆̍̃͛ͫ̓̕ͅM̧̛̯̫͕̙͖͈̙̦̋͒̄̋̄͊̋ͯͧ͑̅ͧ̈̅ͅ.̢̨̫͓̳̹͚̯̗̪̫̞̬̬̟͇͎͔̌̈ͭ̆͋ͧ̌̐̒͆̿͒̓̆̈́̒͠͠
̨̻̜̥̺͛ͬ̉̾̓̓͐͗͢
̷̡̅̄͗͐̌ͥͮ̿̍ͥ̊͋̈́̑ͧ̇ͩ͝͏̮͇̭̻̥͉̤̜̝.̵̦̩̲̪͉̩̫̗̏̃̀ͪͭ̃͂̏̌ͪ̓͋ͦ͛̑͂ͫA̫̝͉̗̜̟̳͂ͥͬ̑ͤͩ̌̄ͦ͆ͪͣ̈́ͦ̚͠ͅ.ͥ̒ͬ̄̂̋ͬͯ́ͥ̆͆͑̑ͤ̎͗̓͌͏̸̧̺͎̣̱͈͜
̵̭̺̩̲̯̗̩̭̳͖̤̬͓̟̘̙̾̅͆̈́͒͟͟͡
̓ͥ̈̓̿̽͗̅ͣ̆͌̿͊͐́͂̿ͩ̚҉҉̢̻̝̮̤̗̦͚͎͟.̨̰͉̮͔̞̟͈͈͇̳͙̳̙̫̠͂͐ͥ̍̏̀͌͊̅̈̑̎ͣ̀S̶̡̙͇͎̙̞̩̟̣͕̙̜͕̗̗̺̤͚̣̽̏ͦ̆̆ͥͯ̃̽̈́͆̕.̞͎̠̟̼͚̻͈̞̗͐̉̾ͮ̿̍ͭͯ̋ͩͯ̔͋͋̇̊ͩ̐ͬ͟͡
̢̳͎̻̜̯̳͉̬͚͈̘̯̓ͭ́̒̽͢
̄̍̌̐̌͐̒͊͐̆ͣ͟҉̦̤͔̰͕̰̪̤̜̣̬̱͜͟.̴̧̢͓̗͕̣̘̱̲́̌͊̍̽̉ͧ́͠T̔̄̄̈͊͘͟͏͕͙̻̣̼͍̭̦̗̤͟.̿̋̑ͨͮ̆͆̓ͯͫ̇̓͛ͬ̽̃̚҉̵̧͕͔̰͈̰̝̜̳̗̘̬̕͜ͅ
̶̢̺̯̝̦͙̰̗̰ͯ̀͂̆̑̎̍ͮ̏ͯ̂ͨ̄ͣ́̉̕͜
̵̷̨̖̜͇͖̩̫̘̙̫̬͈̞͌͌̈́̌̏͒̎͒ͦ͗ͤ̉ͣ͆͂̚͠.̴̶̧͎͎̖͇͉̲̯̘͙͓̹̫̲̟̘̮͓̯̏̾ͮͯͣ̈́͑̿ͥ̈́̿ͣ͜E͂̆̂͌̍ͥͦ̀͆ͣ̉ͬ̀҉̷̣̱̱͔̼̪̫͍̖̘͈̀̀͞.̡̹̝͎̪̩͚͇̺̤͈̫͕̯̝͉̆̑ͤͯ̊̐̔̀̿̌
̢͉͙͙̰̲̭͈̮͖͎̦̮̻̝̠̼̼̅̔ͣ̾ͪ̀͘
ͤ̏ͫ͗̓́͑͛̐̒̚҉̵̸̱̝̹͖͕̩̥͉͕͇̮͓͙́.̵̵̣̲̰̄̋͐̅̄̒̇͐ͬ͊̇͊Rͥͭ͊̒͗͢͞͠҉̯͕͙̥.̢̨̢͉͉̰̦̝̼͎̣̬͎̰̥̖̹̙͕̫̱̜̄̓ͭ́̓̽́̓͆̔͊͗͐̀
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"?!"
Little Mac found himself looking into a dark ceiling.
"..."
A nightmare?
The boxer blinked, fazed by the dream he experienced.
In his dream, a strange orb covered by a variety of dull, yet vibrant colors floated over his vision. It had a large group of faceless people following it, and each and every one of the people had a distorted limb. Then there was the fact that all of the people looked as if they were substances composed of dark ashes...
Strange.
If Little Mac recalled correctly, there was also something far away from the mystical orb, but he turned away from it as soon as he noticed that the thing looked like his own shadow. He did not think of it too much.
A static noise had dominated much of what he heard, but there were several instances where some kind of old device beeped with a surely artificial rhythm. The boxer had no idea as to what it was, as he did not learn of any "codes" of such.
Where did the noises come from, though?
He had no idea.
Getting up from his bed, the boxer lightly tossed aside his blanket. He got off of the comfortable thing before walking out of the room.
Turning on the lights to his living room, Mac immediately went to his kitchen and opened his refrigerator. A note remained pasted over the fridge.
Now you know I don't see everything as chocolate, ya? Ha ha! Make yourself some good stuff, Mac! -Doc Louis
Much to his surprise, the fridge was filled to the brim. Butter, french bread, milk, eggs, and all sorts of other things that fit nicely in the refrigerator were all present.
Crumb-topped peach pies were something Mac made before back at his life in the Bronx. While the pie itself tasted sweet, however, the peaches Ms. Toadstool gave him were both sweet and fresh. Thanks to the kind lady's gifts, Mac enjoyed an extra-tasty delicious breakfast.
Today was a fated day.
A blonde woman in a blue jumpsuit jogged across the streets right outside of Smashville. The sun had yet to make its debut for the day, but a pale dark-blue world still signified its presence.
The person known as Samus Aran recently set her eyes upon seeking hobbies, mostly due to the fact that the Master Hand found her regularly self-isolating habits to be worrisome. She, by no means, hated being around people; she just developed a habit of keeping every one of her own thoughts to herself. Though she appreciated the glove's good intentions, she did find it somewhat annoying to have him berate her.
Not that the Master Hand was as annoying as Crazy Hand; the crazed glove consistently made weird jokes that were sometimes not even that funny.
She had a Smash tournament to contend in soon, and she had no plans for losing. And even if she lost, she swore that she would not lose without putting up a great presentation of her power.
As she ran, she noticed a person in a pink jumpsuit slowly jogging past her. The person, who looked like a man, was shorter than her, but his legs carried him farther than hers.
Intriguing.
After taking a closer look, Samus remembered the outfit.
Though she did not remember if the man himself wore the outfit on purpose, a man in a pink jumpsuit had become the spotlight in the previous night's news. Wearing two green boxing gloves, he took down four space pirates by himself, the rest of the unseen pirates dealt by Marth, who was on his way from a grocery trip. Apparently, the space pirates planned on taking a large amount of wealth to create an armor-shattering weapon, but the Crazy Hand simply ate all of the money and threw the pirates into a jail cell.
How the freaky thing even ate gold, no one questioned about.
Samus eyed the man in the pink jumpsuit. Space pirates in general were hard to take down if one did not know them well. She wondered if this man was the same person that came out in the television. After all, no one was able to remember his face due to how quickly he left the scene. She found it highly possible that he would eventually show up as a newcomer in the Smash tourneys. Just the power behind his fists already made him a possible contestant.
She eventually turned her attention away from the man in the pink jumpsuit, paying attention to her own jog. The bounty hunter had a feeling that she would be seeing him again very soon.
Several hours later...
The time finally came.
Nearly every contestant- if not all contestants- remained seated behind a large window. The room they all sat in was as dark as a movie theater, and shaped like one. Why? Ask Crazy Hand.
It was the fated day to see the newcomer to the Smash Bros. Scene, and while some people knew who the newcomer was, no one actually knew what the human from New York possessed for the tournaments. What most of them knew was that the newcomer used to have the occupation of a fully active boxer and defeated extremely abnormal opponents. They heard that he even defeated a magician who utilized magic on the boxing ring.
Alas, without supervision, the Smash contestants proved to be an extremely rowdy bunch.
"Falcon... PUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNCH!"
"UUUuuuuuuuuuoOOOOGHHHHAGHHHH!"
"Captain and Ganon are going at it again," the blue-haired, buff mercenary known as Ike shook his head as he turned away from the sight of a Warlock Punch and a Falcon Punch colliding perfectly. Lucario, who sat right next to Captain Falcon and Ganondorf, simply stared at the two fully-grown men fighting each other in the dark area with wide eyes.
Jigglypuff, a balloon-type Pokemon with a puffy, round body, was used as a volleyball by Bowser and Wario, and Mario simply sat still with a composed smile. Beside him sat Peach, who hummed a little tune that she particularly enjoyed. Next to Mario's other side was Luigi, the red plumber's leaner brother. Though nicknamed as "King of Second Bananas" by one of Solid Snake's comrades, the seemingly frightful man clad in green experienced plenty of emotions other than fear. He was just... a little more on the shy side.
The two plumber brothers felt tempted to go stop Bowser and Wario, but the Master Hand was going to-
"BRUH."
Everyone stopped what they were doing, turning to look at the only exit in the cramped room.
A large hand floated very still, though unlike Master Hand, it had the shape of a left hand. At this point, everyone understood what the crazed entity would do.
All of a sudden, the Crazy Hand began to move erratically, dropping a bunch of bombs out of its... fingers.
Everybody screamed in unison as the room was filled with explosions. Mario managed to take his F.L.U.D.D. out and sprayed a powerful stream of water at incoming fires, while Luigi kicked away some of the bombs like a soccer player. Link, who literally entered the room right when Crazy Hand did, threw a boomerang at where Zelda was, pushing aside some of the bombs that would soil the dress she wore. Due to the enchantment of wind applied to the boomerang, however, one of the bombs were brought straight up to Link. The Hero of Time simply kicked the bomb at Ganondorf, who seemed to have every bomb kicked towards him (along with Bowser).
Several people found their own ways to protect themselves and their friends, but for the most part, Crazy Hand successfully bombed all of the Smash contestants. Giggling like an idiot, the hand began to make some sort of weird squiggling motions with his fingers.
"HUEHUEHUEHUEHAHAHA," Crazy Hand cackled crazily. "Behold! This is the power of the Mona- er, Monday morning!"
"...What?"
Ike, whose head was stuck within the ceiling, barely pulled himself out and fell on his seat, making Captain Falcon's question more awkward than it would have been.
"...WhateveryeyeyeyeANYWAY... We gahtz not a lahtz of tiemz, so I suggest you to sit like all the ghetto Hylian peoplebye."
Right after the word "bye" left Crazy Hand, the glove suddenly vanished, closing the door in light speed.
This was approximately the thirty-seventh time Crazy Hand visited the Smash contestants just to blow them up. And so far, all thirty seven times have been quite successful.
Little Mac stood behind an automatic door. Today, Master Hand would inform him of what Doc Louis and he had decided for him, and he would also go through another test. This test, unlike the first test he took, would be recorded for the sake of statistics.
Interestingly enough, the testing ground was located underneath the gigantic dome-shaped stadium. Mac had to pass by more strange creatures and lifeforms. He even tried to say "Hello" to a Dodongo, but nearly turned into a crispy Happy Meal when the creature noticed him. The boxer would make sure not to talk to chained creatures.
Mac held his breath. A countdown appeared above the door.
"Ten seconds."
The boxer danced on his toes, his gloves brought up to his chest.
"Nine."
Phantom punches flew, each punch barely stopping in front of the door.
"Eight."
Another sign glowed underneath the countdown. Little Mac looked up, curious as to what it said.
"Please destroy the door to shorten the countdown."
"..."
...That's a strange way of hastening the waiting process.
Little Mac slammed his gloves against each other, his expression tensing up.
"Seven."
"Six."
"Five-four-thr-t-o-"
SMASH!
The door's hinges broke, and the door flew away. It was made of surprisingly fragile material... at least, fragile enough for Mac to punch away.
A large white room, similar to the one Mac first found himself walking into. His gloves still on his hoodie, Mac slowly walked into the room.
"...! Look!" Mario said quietly with excitement. "Mister Mac has-a arrived!"
Everyone in the hidden theater room quieted down, all of them curious about the man clad in pink. He had actually gained a bit of fame after making an appearance in the news. His name, "Mac," had now become more known to the current contestants in the Smash Bros. Tournaments.
"According to some data R.O.B. kindly provided to us," Mario explained to some of the contestants that still did not know of Mac that well, "Mister Mac came from-a Earth. He is a boxer, and therefore, knows-a boxing! Many of his world's people saw him as an entirely new kind of-a hero, and I agree with them very much!"
"Wait, so he's a human being, right?" A small voice asked Mario behind several voices talking about a different topic. The red-clothed plumber smiled at the boy named Ness.
"That's-a right! And like all people, Mister Mac has-a great passion, from what I've seen and heard. I'll admit, the things I have-a seen when I did my own share of-a research on him surprised me."
Ness tilted his head in confusion, but Mario simply looked back up at to watch the newcomer undergo the mandatory testing procedures.
"You'll know why soon," the plumber said, excited to see the Smash Brothers' new family member show a splendid performance in the test.
Mac did not plan on keeping his hoodie on. Unzipping the hoodie, Mac took a deep breath.
"..."
With great vigor, Mac grabbed the hood of his hoodie, tossing the pink clothes behind him.
Finally, he was going to be properly tested. He decided to take the entire test as seriously as possible. Though there had been some amusing moments during his time in the strange world, he firmly stood by the fact that he should not think about laughing in the middle of a diagnostic performance test that might alter his fate in the tournaments.
Short black hair, a dark, sleeveless athletic shirt, and green boxing pants. Two green boxing gloves, white shoes, and one heck of an muscular build.
"Welcome, 'Little Mac'."
The voice of Master Hand boomed across the room as Mac continued to stretch out his body, listening closely to the directions he was about to be given. All he had to do was follow what the hand wanted him to do, and he would already be doing a decent job.
"This diagnostic test will help us measure your power in the Smash Brothers Tournaments. While you are still qualified to contend in the battles, failure to comply and perform the following tasks may risk your status as a contestant. Please follow all directions given to you with great care."
Mac nodded.
To say that the vast atmosphere did not make him nervous was an outright lie. The boxer was back in the white-blue space, standing on a wide bridge leading up to a large circular platform. Keeping his emotions to himself, the lightweight boxing champion walked across the bridge. For some reason, the thought of aliens flashed within his head every time he heard his footsteps resonate across the void-filled room.
Soon enough, he found himself standing in the middle of the circular platform. Waiting for further instructions, Mac looked around the room, wondering if there were any audiences watching him right at the moment. His attention quickly drew to a familiar glove's voice of authority echoing across the room.
"We will now measure your Standard Power. Please deal a single strike to the target in front of you."
A few seconds after the Master Hand spoke, a floating target pad blipped into existence, much to Mac's surprise. The circular, red-white target floated in front of him, as if waiting for the boxer to punch it.
"Hm?" Luigi asked his brother when the target pad came out. "D-Doesn't Master Hand normally take that target out when newcomers hit the sandbag too hard?"
"...Umm, let's just say that Mister Mac might hit really hard sometimes."
"I dunno about you," Ganondorf, who sat a little behind Mario, "but he doesn't look that strong to me. He'd probably have to send the Sandbag thousands of feet away like I could."
Captain Falcon leaned over to Marth and pointed at Ganondorf with a lazy thumb, whispering, "Would you look at that? Mister Century-Year-Old-Evil is comparing himself with a human being."
Though Marth seemed to have a hard time understanding what Captain Falcon was implying, Ganondorf had a particularly bright set of ears. The two of the contestants immediately grabbed each other before flying out of the theater, leaving the rest of the audience to watch Little Mac in peace.
"I wonder how strong he is!" One voice chirped out.
"Maybe he'd send the target far away?" Another chirped in. "Those things are way heavier than they look."
A large turtle monster grumbled as the pair of contestants known as the "Ice Climbers" chirped on, innocently unaware of the auditory damage they dealt to the king known as Bowser.
Little Mac stared at the floating target, clenching a fist with one hand. Gathering his strength, the boxer brought the fist a little underneath his waist. He would need to apply all of his strength to this punch if he wanted to accurately portray his strength.
With that in mind, the boxer grit his teeth as he swung a fist upwards, as if he were slashing a sword with great precision.
The target collided against the fist and, almost instantaneously, shattered into pieces before vanishing from thin air.
"..."
...
...
"...Splendid," was all the Master Hand said as Little Mac returned to waiting for more tests.
"...Splendid my $#%," Captain Falcon commented, pleasantly surprised to find that the newcomer had one heck of a punch underneath his small appearance. "Just what the heck did he box with to get to that level?"
"Enough to contest with us in the tournaments?" Marth said carefully, not wanting to sound rude by using a language he did not use that often.
"You have a point there."
From there on, however, things began to head toward a more serious direction.
"We will now measure the rate of attacks you can deliver within ten seconds. Please deliver as many attacks on the stationary target as you can within those ten seconds."
Little Mac followed the Master Hand's directions carefully. The new target seemed to be stronger than the one he had just managed to shatter, and had a green-white color scheme instead of a red-white one. The boxer threw sixty-seven punches in ten seconds.
"We will now analyze your running speed. Please run to the finish line from where you are as quickly as you can."
Unlike the previous two tests, a new set of platforms floated into Mac's field of vision. The platforms connected themselves and turned into a long bridge.
The boxer felt a little tempted to just walk for the heck of it, but decided not to. Instead, he ran up to the finish line like the Master Hand directed him to. He ran fifty kilometers per hour. A few seconds after Little Mac returned to the platform he had originally been standing on, the Master Hand proceeded to move on to other testing procedures.
"We will now analyze the range of your jumps. Do not prevent yourself from jumping, as failing to participate in this test may risk your status as a contestant. Safety measures have been prepared for your sake."
At this, the boxer wondered why the Master Hand mentioned so many things related to "safety" unlike the other tests he had taken. He decided not to question it any further, watching a floating platform float a little away from the boxer.
"...?"
Walking up to the edge of the circular platform he stood on, Little Mac stared at the platform floating a little away from him. A little reluctant on jumping on the thing, he followed the Master Hand's direction, albeit with a confused expression painted over his face. A second after he jumped on the platform, another platform floated into existence.
...Don't tell me I'm supposed to keep jumping on these things until I can't?
Sure enough, he was right. Every platform he jumped onto, a new one popped up. Each new platform was slightly farther from the platforms that appeared before them. After six measly platforms, Little Mac found himself grabbing onto the edge of the seventh platform.
He sucked at jumping far.
After crossing over the eighth platform, Little Mac failed to go to the ninth platform, falling into a trampoline that sort of appeared out of nowhere. The trampoline slowly lifted Mac back up to the circular platform. Feeling less uneasy about the test he just took, the boxer shook his head to keep his attention on the testing procedures that he had yet to encounter.
"We will now move onto the final test."
...Already?
Little Mac looked around the vast room as the Master Hand continued,
"The final test is experimental, and varies among the contestants being tested. In your case, Little Mac, the Cruel Smash test seems most appropriate."
"Let me explain. Cruel Smash is a test that pits you against extremely powerful opponents that scale off of a multiplied version of your power. Once you are knocked out of the platform, like any competitive Super Smash Brothers match, the battle ends. Your goal is to knock off as many of your opponents as you can. All of your opponents will be artificially designed for the purpose of testing you."
Little Mac prepared an offensive stance as the Master Hand began a countdown.
"Three."
"Two."
"One..."
Suddenly, five beams of lights fizzed into existence around the lightweight boxing champion. As the light faded away, five strange figures appeared. Pink wires formed the shapes of human beings, and a strange emblem glowed red on where the faces were supposed to be.
Never did Mac imagine that fighting a bunch of pink wires feel intimidating.
One of the more masculine-looking wireframes charged towards the boxer.
"Begin."
Immediately after the Master Hand initiated the test, the boxer put up a more defensive stance. The wireframe threw its own body towards Mac with a charging football tackle. Getting pushed by the wireframe briefly, the lightweight boxing champion skidded across the ground before coming right back at the strange being, delivering a powerful body blow. The force of the punch sent the wireframe falling over another wireframe that just managed to begin running, but it was not enough to actually send the being off of the platform.
Meanwhile, a feminine wireframe attempted to kick Mac off of the platform with a delicate, yet nasty kick, which Mac succeeded in countering just as he had before. From what he could tell, these wireframes were powerful. They packed a punch, and the instant moment Mac got smacked off of the platform, it would all be over.
Hardening his spirit, the lightweight boxing champion ducked and rolled under a wireframe that attempted to smash him with an elbow attack. Two hard punches sent the wireframe tumbling off of the platform.
Much to his own surprise, the wireframe jumped back up onto the platform.
Seeing that two punches were not enough, the boxer attempted to delivering a powerful jab at the wireframe's direction before sensing a presence behind him. Mac swiftly turned around and smashed away an incoming attack dealt by the first wireframe that attempted to get him when the test began. With a mighty punch, he smashed away the wireframe off of the platform, actually managing to cause the attacker to collide against a wall.
Dodge left, dodge right, duck, duck, duck.
Little Mac found himself playing defensively throughout the test, and, after managing to get fifteen of the wireframes off of the stage, finally got smacked off by one of the feminine wireframes. Right when he spiraled off of the platform, the wireframes disappeared. He landed in a trampoline that prevented him from plummeting down to the middle of nowhere earlier.
I could have done better kept on flashing in Little Mac's mind, but he knew he had to keep in mind that he had yet to know whether his performance was a good one or not. There was also the fact that Mac had recently retired from his WVBA career, and only just came back into yet another flashy scene.
For some reason, however, his own faults actually made him more excited for the tournaments. There were things that he did not exactly excel at, which clearly showed up when he went through the jumping test.
He was not perfect. He still did have room to improve, and though such things were not related to boxing that much, it did relate well to the competition he planned on entering.
Of course, that did not mean that he would be lazing around not attempting to improve his own condition.
"Well done, Little Mac. This concludes the first part of the mandatory testing procedures. You will fill out some information about yourself on the way out."
Thirty minutes later...
Little Mac jogged out of the colossal building, a smile indicating that he had little to no time for frowning around the place. There was some sort of feeling growing within him, and it, by no means, was a bad feeling. Good premonitions made Mac a happy boxer.
As the lightweight boxing champion did some sort of happy dance motion with his hands, a familiar voice called out for him.
"Sir Mac!"
The instant moment Mac turned around, the boxer found a Robin with a super wide smile flying towards him.
"GOOOOOOOD JOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOBBBBBB! A splendid performance, I say! By the way, let's play a game of Che-"
"No."
Whether he liked it or not, Mac celebrated his decent(?) performance with Robin by playing a game of Chess.