"So, see here?" Marx questioned, gesturing towards the white pop flower before them.
There weren't many of them around these parts, but Marx had managed to find one after searching for way longer than he thought it was worth. He was left with little choice in the matter since he promised Kirby he'd show him, and this morning the little hero hadn't stopped babbling about it until they left on this current detour.
"Poyo?"
"Yeah, so you just pop it open, and bam!" The jester exclaimed, demonstrating his point by making the flower drop a candy. "You have an item." He sighed. Marx had kind of hoped a cake would drop out, or even a lollipop – but no, just a measly little candy, wrapped neatly in red and white.
He pushed the candy over to Kirby with his right foot. "Here, you have it. I'm not really interested in it. I mean, sure, I love food, but it's just a small candy anyway."
He turned his head away when Kirby let out a squeal of delight. The little puffball wasted no time in gobbling up the candy, letting out a content little "poyo!" as he swallowed it.
"Marx poyo..." Kirby then said. "M-Marx..f-food? Poyo?"
"Hey, you're getting better! I see my mini lesson this morning wasn't a total waste of time!" Marx laughed.
Kirby laughed along.
As the two of them had their fun, another voice entered the scene.
"Hey, Kirby!" Fumu shouted from a short distance away. She and her brother was currently walking over to their location with slight frowns on their faces, and once they stood before the two, Fumu corrected her mistake.
"Oh, and Marx too..." She said, eyeing him warily. Marx gave her a cute smile, shaking his head to get one of the puffs from his jester hat out of his face.
"Yep!" He said, and then plopped down on the ground next to Kirby, who was currently greeting the two siblings with overenthusiastic happiness. "What brings you here? Wanna play with us again?"
Bun shook his head sadly. "No, but I wish!"
Fumu nodded. "Yeah, we have to attend one of King Dedede's ceremonies in about twenty minutes, so we came over to find Kirby before that."
"Poyo?"
Fumu smiled a little at the star warrior. "We're here to ask if you wanted to help Professor Curio with his excavation later today? You can join us too, Marx, if you feel like it."
There was that overly suspicious look again. Marx wondered what brought it up this time. He hadn't known her for long, but she was really starting to annoy him with her stares. What was he, some sort of circus freak for all to gaze at? He hadn't even done anything too bad yet. Was she perhaps still mad at him for blasting Dyna Blade's chick away?
"Poyo, poyo!" Kirby said, nodding his head in agreement.
Marx gave him a look. "It's yes, Kirby. Y. E. S."
"Y-y-yeesh?" Kirby tried.
Marx stared at him. "...Close enough."
Fumu looked surprised at their brief interaction. "You're teaching him how to talk?" She asked, looking amazed. "That's a great idea! Hey Kirby, I'll help you too!"
"H-help, poyo!" Kirby cheered.
Fumu looked extremely proud, and Bun whistled.
"Nice." The yellow boy said. "I can't wait to have a real conversation with you, Kirby!"
The pink hero squealed.
Fumu then turned her attention back on Marx. "What about you? Will you be joining us later?"
Marx shook his head. "Nope!" He said, popping the 'p'. "I've got some stuff to take care of, but you kids go have fun."
"Hey, you look younger than us, you know!" Bun exclaimed.
"Yeah, but—ouch!" Marx cursed as he accidentally bit his tongue with his sharp fangs. A few drops of blood rolled down his lips, and he hurriedly licked them away.
The other three were watching him with curious expressions. Fumu hummed.
"You know, I've been wondering. What kind of species are you, Marx?" She questioned. "We're Cappies, in case you were wondering."
"Well, I wasn't." Marx brushed her question off, content with evading her ridiculous question. "And I don't know. Never met one of my own kind before." He added reluctantly.
That wasn't even a lie, either. Marx truly had no idea what he was supposed to be, who his parents were or where he was born. Heck, he might not even be from planet Popstar to begin with.
It was a weird thought to have.
"What?" Bun said, sounding skeptical. "How can you not know of your own race? That's super weird!"
"I just don't know." The purple puffball sneered. "To me, you're the weird ones. Does it even matter?"
"No, I guess not." Fumu relented. "I've just never met anyone like you before...It's strange."
"Don't you have a meeting to attend to or something?"
Fumu and Bun's eyes widened simultaneously.
"Oh no, we're late! Mama and Papa are probably waiting for us! Bun, let's hurry!"
"Yeah!" Her brother agreed. "Kirby, see you at the excavation site later!"
"Poyo!" Kirby waved.
Marx stood back up, his large, purple eyes glinting with mischief.
"Welp, I gotta go too. See ya later, Kirby!"
And thus the little puffball was left to his own devices.
Marx stood a little ways from the many benches laid out before the podium of Castle Dedede. It was a sunny day filled with bird songs, a soft breeze and many new opportunities, and the cosmic jester couldn't help but question why he was using his precious time listening to this snobbish speech. Escargoon was currently claiming King Dedede to be the Seventeen-thousand and fifty-second ruler in Dream Land, and Marx looked at the empty benches.
Did they even realize no one was there? He caught sight of The Cabinet Minister and his family attending as well – that was probably the customary obligation Fumu and Bun had been talking about.
The only reason Marx was there was because he was planning on sneaking into the castle after Dedede and his goon left to chase whatever scheme their pathetic little brains could come up with. He wondered if the King would ever learn to be anything other than a menace to his people.
He couldn't help but laugh once the penguin and the snail guy finally realized no one was listening to this celebratory commemoration. And as he had predicted, King Dedede and Escargoon soon left the platform to rectify this insolence (to him, at least. Marx didn't think this man deserved anyone's attention).
After that, infiltrating the castle proved to be no challenge whatsoever. Marx had a breeze sneaking past the many Waddle Dees stationed as guards, and getting into the castle was only a matter of utilizing his wings – there weren't any doors near the podium, but several windows were left open. It made him question Dedede's security in general, because it literally sucked. He could have just used the podium to enter, but Marx didn't want to take that chance – Dedede could still be there.
As he searched for the main operation room, Marx came across a room filled with various artifacts of Dedede, and among those a particularly large stone tablet caught his eye. He could feel some sort of energy emanating from it, which piqued his interest.
"What's this junk doing here?" He asked.
Entering the room, Marx poked the stone tablet with a foot. A cruel and sinister smile graced his features, his eyes turning a lighter shade of purple.
"Well, whatever it is...why don't I destroy it? I'm sure that'll piss Dedede off, hee hee hee hee!"
Due to the fact that it was pretty huge compared to his admittedly small self, Marx summoned his wings and hovered in front of the stone. From within, Marx began to glow slightly before he willed forth a stream of arrows, the projectiles shooting with such force the stone tablet broke immediately upon impact, crumbling into little heaps of rubble and dust.
"Hahahahaha!" The jester laughed, reveling in a job well done.
Onward he went.
Marx did eventually find the room containing the connection to Holy Nightmare Corporation, but the hovering throne chair with the button to summon said connection was nowhere to be found.
"Hmm, that's strange." Marx mused, wandering around in search of the chair. "Did Dedede grow a few brain cells and actually hid it?"
This wasn't really a problem, but it was quite annoying.
"I guess I'll just have to make him show me where he hid it."
Marx suddenly paused, having spotted something on a table nearby. It was a telephone you could flip open, and the screen switched on to show the logo of Holy Nightmare Corporation as soon as he did. Marx grinned.
"Or..." He said. "I could just use this one, hehehe!"
Bringing forth his wings, Marx pressed the call button with a claw. He waited for a few seconds before the face of a man he had never seen before showed up, smiling widely at him.
"Welcome to Holy Nightmare Corporation, Your Majes—oh my."
The man stopped talking as soon as he realized the person behind the screen wasn't King Dedede. Marx grinned widely, showing off his razor sharp fangs.
"Hey, hey, hey." He greeted. "Marx is here, reporting for duty!"
It would do him well to pretend he knew what was going on. That book back in the library gave him quite a lot of insight about his alternative self, so Marx had a pretty good idea of where this other Marx stood within Nightmare's Empire...and it wasn't anything he was interested in keeping – neither rank nor deal.
"Marx, what a surprise to see you...alive." The service man said.
"Yep. I'm just full of surprises!"
The man beyond the screen nodded. "So you are."
After a brief silence, Marx began tapping his foot impatiently.
"So?" He inquired. "Aren't you going to let me speak with Nightmare or something? It's him I have business with, not you."
"As impatient as ever." The man mumbled. "I'll see if he's available, Marx. Though, I do not understand why you aren't back within our base by now, if you are indeed alive. You should have no problems returning with your abilities."
Marx glared. "You ask too many questions, old geezer. Just get on with it before I mutilate you in your sleep. I can do that when I get back." He stated calmly, although on the inside he was mentally going over every possible excuse he could use for not knowing the coordinates to Nightmare's base.
Should he just say he's suffering from slight amnesia? Or would that lie be too obvious? The book did mention something about Marx supposedly dying after wiping out several sections of the GSA.
"And I see that part of your personality hasn't changed either. But there's no need for empty threats, Marx. You won't get your end of our deal if you try to harm me or anyone else under Nightmare. Surely you know of this?"
"Don't tempt me, you useless sack of meat." Marx's eyes turned dangerous. "Just forward me to Nightmare, and you won't have to sleep with the lights on at night."
Marx had had enough of this pointless conversation by now.
"...As you wish." Customer Service relented.
The jester watched on as the screen flicked over to the towering figure of Nightmare himself, his very being as imposing as ever.
Time for business.
Nightmare was a man of ambition.
And because his most amicable ambition to date included making the entire universe fear his name – for fear was the very emotion that sustained his entire being – Nightmare was determined to see this conquest through. If nightmares existed, so too would he exist, ruling every single creature's minds with the fear his reign caused. To date, Nightmare already owned more than half of the universe. It was a marvelous time to exist, as next to no one dared oppose him.
Some had, of course, been a hindrance to his plans, but those were merely dealt with accordingly. Small, insignificant bugs to squash underneath his rule. Everyone would know not to oppose him, for in the end he was all that would matter.
Nightmare's jaw clenched, his huge hand slamming down on his favorite chessboard. The board cracked on impact, and several pieces scattered around, some falling off, never to return again. He breathed deeply.
There was, of course, the matter of those insolent Star Warriors. Only a few remained, but the fact was that those few should have been eradicated a long time ago with the rest of their pathetic team of galactic defenders. Their resistance was futile, and yet they never stopped trying.
Nightmare let out a sinister laugh.
He rolled a round chess piece back and forth with his bony hand. He gave it a scathing look, and then crushed it, watching as the sawdust ran between his thin fingers. Nightmare never should have tried to replicate one of those puffballs, as that particular pet project went out of hand way before he could do anything about it.
Such insolence wouldn't be allowed. Nightmare refused to rest until all was his for the taking.
It was as simple as that.
He wondered when his surprise Demon Beast would arrive. It was about time he made his presence known. The man of nightmares had taken the news of this beast being alive in stride, finding slight interest in the matter – but only slight.
He could care less about each individual Demon Beast he mass produced, but a few of them were more...advanced than others. Nightmare had thought this beast perished in the war between the GSA, but color him surprised.
He could use this pawn again to wipe out those remaining little worms, and then no one would be able to stand in his way – least of all Kirby.
"Sir, Marx is on the line and is waiting to speak with you." He heard one of his servants say from the reality beyond his warped dream space. Nightmare brushed the dust away and dispelled his vision, returning just in time to see that small little puffball with no arms scowling at Customer Service on their huge television screen.
When the tiny puffball noticed him, he gave his customary greeting.
"Hey, hey hey!" So said the child, his smile wide and friendly.
Nightmare's dark, towering form gave the impression of him looming over the puffball even from behind the screen. It still perplexed Nightmare how such a diminutive creature could hold as much power as he did. All things considered, this little puffball should have been nothing more than a defenseless child, and yet he knew better than to underestimate children. Kirby was, again, one such example.
"Marx." Nightmare said, grinning just as widely as his beast did. "Why are you contacting me through King Dedede's phone? Did you not receive my message to meet me at my base? I won't tolerate laziness." He spoke, his voice reverberating through the vast space in an eerie way.
To his frustration, Marx didn't appear to be intimidated whatsoever. Nightmare could tell the child exuded no fear at all – a slight contrast to how he was back when the two of them had first made their deal.
"Sorry Nightmare, but I think I have amnesia." The little beast said, sticking out his tongue in a playful manner. "I can't remember much of anything before the war, including the coordinates to your base. Hehehe, that's too bad, though, so you'll have to give them to me now!" Marx finished with a demand.
Nightmare's smile twitched. He reached forward with a thin, bony arm and pointed at his minion.
"You don't make the commands here." He said, and then pointed to himself. "I do."
There was a brief silence where the child's eyes narrowed dangerously. To the trained eye, Marx might have seemed like someone wanting to rip out Nightmare's throat with those fangs of his, but that thought alone was laughable and utterly ridiculous. The small beast wouldn't even be able to nibble on one of his fingers.
"But let that be as it may..." Nightmare eventually continued. "If you speak lies, I will dispose of you."
Marx faked surprise. "Now why would I lie when the stakes are that high? That's just stupid." He retaliated, frowning slightly. He was indeed wrestling with some hidden emotions, but fear still wasn't among them. Nightmare supposed he could humor this puffball for a bit.
"You will receive the coordinates only when you have proven your strength is still worth my time. If you do indeed have amnesia, then I suppose you don't remember our deal." Nightmare leaned forward, his face dangerously close to the screen. "Let my Customer Service enlighten you."
The man in question bowed deeply.
"Sure, thanks!" Marx cheered.
Nightmare found himself being revolted by this creature's cuteness, enough to make him nauseous – beings like Marx belonged in the sweet dreams of children, not the nightmares he induced.
His most trusted servant then began his retelling.
"Marx, you came to us one day, back when those GSA meddlers chose to resist Nightmare's reign. You had just gained some sort of power from what you described as a giant comet called Nova, and so you chose to make a deal with us. Seeing your potential, Nightmare accepted your condition of owning Planet Popstar. And in return, you would have to become one of his Demon Beasts, helping him eradicate all enemies and conquering the many galaxies. You-"
"What?!" Marx shouted, effectively halting Customer Service's speech. "Wait...Wait wait wait!" The little puffball continued, his eyes huge. "You're telling me I came to you when I could have already owned Popstar from the wish Nova granted me?! No way!"
Nightmare laughed. "Your little comet from the times of the Ancients was halted by several of my strongest Demon Beasts within the area. I remember how...unsatisfied that left you, so you saw little other choice than to join me. You told me you realized how futile your plan was when you came to know of my existence. That was the first wise move I had seen from you, and also the reason I forgave you for killing the Demon Beasts that stopped Nova."
Marx had turned eerily quiet, his eyes unblinking. Then, like a switch had been pressed, the jester smiled widely, his gaze looking almost deranged.
"Oh, I see!" He giggled. "My mistake, hahaha! Of course I'd join you, if that was my only option."
The way Marx phrased that sentence felt a bit off to Nightmare, but he brushed it aside.
"Indeed." Nightmare agreed.
"Were you really okay with me owning something though?" Marx suddenly asked.
Nightmare's grin twitched. "I beg your pardon?"
The child nodded. "Yep, I know your type! You're the kind of guy who won't let anyone have anything you could own for yourself, so is this deal even legit? Marx doesn't believe it, nope!"
Right. Nightmare had almost forgotten this puffball's deranged insolence and brilliant mind. Of course the deal had been nothing but a scam, but he hadn't counted on the child figuring it out. Time for a clever lie.
"You are correct. However, Popstar was never among the planets I planned on conquering – no, I have instead chosen to annihilate it once I reach its destination, so I have no need for it. Since you are one of my Demon Beasts with this deal of ours, I see no problem in granting you domain over it."
"How benevolent of you..." Marx muttered, his eyes once again narrowed. "So, let me get this straight. You'll let me have planet Popstar if I help you get rid of the pests in your way? Is that all? A 'scratch each others' backs' kind of deal?"
"Yes, that is correct." Nightmare nodded, leaning away from the screen. "But as I mentioned before, I won't give you the coordinates to my base before you show you've still got some worth."
"And how will I do that?"
"Quite simple, really." He said with a broad smile. "Get rid of the Star Warrior known as Kirby."
Marx turned quiet again. In fact, he stayed quiet for so long Customer Service briefly checked the connection to see if the screen had frozen. But no, the little puffball simply remained quiet, until that quiet was broken by a high pitched giggle that soon turned into uncontrollable laughter.
"Hee hee hee hee! Easy peasy! Popstar is as good as mine already, and everyone will bow down to Marx before long!"
Nightmare quirked an eyebrow. This child was beyond deranged. He had no intention of following up on his end of the deal, and once Kirby had been dealt with, the man of nightmares would get rid of this child as well.
"You'll be seeing me a lot sooner than you'd think, Nightmare. Look forward to it!" Marx chirped, sticking out his tongue. "Because as you probably know, I'm in Dreamland right now!"
The purple jester ended the call and disconnected from the main screen. Nightmare stared at it for a few seconds before he returned to his own world of nightmares, adding another purple chess piece back on the board. The piece stood proudly, adorning a jester hat and bowtie, and before it another little piece stood, this one pink.
"Checkmate." Nightmare said, and then he laughed.
To Marx, it had never been more obvious that Nightmare was playing him for a fool. With one good look, the cosmic jester could easily spot the many lies he spouted.
Well, two could play at that game.
There was no way Marx would be controlled by anyone – least of all someone as rotten as that towering man. But he would play the fool for however long it served him, as he knew his other alternative self had done. It didn't matter that the Marx from this universe had failed in cutting that man into tiny little pieces, because he still set up a brilliant plan for him to follow up on.
This wasn't just about taking over Popstar anymore. Marx didn't need Nightmare's help to begin with, but there was no doubt he would be useful to his amazing new scheme. After that though, the man had to go.
Joining Nightmare hadn't been his only option. Not even by far.
It was later that day when Marx joined up with Kirby, Fumu and Bun. They told him of how many treasures and artifacts of King Dedede had been found during their archaeological excavations, which in turn confirmed the penguin's rule as Pupu Land's rightful king. Marx thought back to that stone tablet he had destroyed earlier on and laughed.
"What's so funny, Marx?" Fumu questioned, sounding slightly annoyed. "You keep laughing all the time, are you sure you're okay…?"
"Hehehe! It's just, Dedede is playing you all for a fool!"
"What do you mean?" Bun asked.
"I saw one of those treasures in the castle today, so I bet you my hat he's paid someone to burrow them for the villagers to find."
"What?!" Fumu shouted, her eyes widening. "Oh no, Professor Curio! What did you do…?"
"Sis, let's confront him before it gets any worse!"
Fumu nodded. "Yeah!"
"Poyo!"
Marx yawned. "Welp, I'll be at your place if you need me, Kirby."
And with that they all went their own separate ways, three out of the four children not aware of what would soon take place.