Smash Brothers Odyssey Book 5: Ultimate

by SmashBrosOdyssey

The fifth tournament is underway! Behind the scenes however, Conker the Squirrel has acquired the missing Smash Core and is assembling an inter-dimensional army of villains in a decade-overdue power play to dominate the universe. What havoc will the villains reek? How will Mario, who is now tasked with leading the Smashers, respond?

143. Round 4: Day One

Round 4: Day 1

Smash City

800

TV Studio

"YO YO YO!" Marina began.

"You know what time it is," added Pearl.

"OFF THE HOOK!" the two squids said together.

"Y'all know the drill by now," Marina explained, "A panel of five, one from each tournament to inform us on their predicted match of the night and MVP. First, from the 12 Tournament, it's Pikachu,"

Squeals of joy from women and children erupted in the TV studio as Pikachu meekly waved.

"And from the Melee tournament," Pearl explaijned, "His son, Pichu!"

More squeals lead to a much more animated wave from Pichu.

"From the Brawl Tournament, it's Pit," Marina said.

The angel waved, laughing at "Whaddya know" chants.

Next, it was Pearl's turn,"From the Duel tournament, it's the goddess herself, Palutena!"

The goddess extended a blessing hand to the crowd as they cheered.
Marina took over, "And from the Ultimate Tournament, it's Ritcher."

Again, the women screeched as Ritcher saluted.

"Wow, we seemed to have gotten a quintet of people popular with the ladies eh?" Pearl joked.

The audience laughed, the guests sharing polite chuckles.

"Okay we'll start with you Pikachu," Marina began," Who's gonna have the match of the night at the end of the week, and who's gonna be the MVP?"

"Match of the night will definitely go to Zelda and Ganondorf," explained the electric mouse.

This harbored some dissatisfied grunts from some Gerudos in the audience, but Pikachu continued.

"Matchups with history inside and outside Smash always, as the kids say, go a little harder than the ones that don't, and Zelda versus Ganondorf has both, if you all remember Brawl.."

"I wasn't around then, but I watched the footage and it was a hell of a fight" agreed Pearl.

Pikachu nodded, "Exactly, that's why it takes home my Match of the Night. MVP, I'm going to say Red. And that's not just because I know a championship trainer when I see one. He and Green went half an hour before we even saw damage, and I don't think Wolf can put up much of a fight against that."

A shrill 'oooh' permeated the TV studio while Pearl held a finger to her lips.

"Let the man cook," Pearl snapped at the audience, "Anyway, Pichu, it's your turn."

"I think Dante and Sephiroth will have the match of the night," Pichu chirped, "Those two are so powerful!"

"They are," Marina agreed, "Who do you think will be MVP?"

"Sephiroth," Pichu said, "Heck, if my dad would let me bet money, I'd bet on Sephiroth the whole way."

The audience laughed, but none seemed to laugh harder than Pikachu.

"It's like I told you son," lectured the mouse, "You have to bet on a weaker opponent so you get more. Plus you can handle your own money when you're a Raichu."

Pichu's ears drooped as the audience laughed again.

"So I take it you're a risky gambler Pikachu," laughed Pearl.

Pikachu laughed back, "Yeah, which is why I don't let the boy do it."

Again, the audience laughed.

"Alright," Pearl said, "Pit, you're on."

"Red and I fought alongside each other in the Subspace War so I have to go with him for MVP. I think Luigi and Donkey Kong are going to be Match of the Night though. They're two legends who have been overlooked for too long and have been improving a whole bunch!" giddily explained the angel.

"Seconded," Palutena announced, raising a finger.

Pearl rolled her eyes, "Of course you two lovefish would have the same opinion!"

"What do you think we do at night?" Palutena asked, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

An 'oooh' once again erupted from the audience.

Marina was now the one rolling her eyes as Pearl giggled incessantly.

"Alright," barked the pale Inkling, "Ritcher, you're up."

"Cloud and Banjo-Kazooie will be the match I look most forward to. Also Cloud better win considering he took me out of the tournament."

"Wow!" gasped Pearl, "Easy as pie! Now, after this commercial break we're going to talk about with a Mushroom Kingdom political expert about how Daisy's crowing as queen will change the political layout of that world, and a new diet craze that's sweeping Smash City, Hylian Steamed Mushrooms!"
For the TV viewing audience, Off the Hook faded to black.

Luigi

Smash City

"King of Fighters" section

"Duck You Too" dance club

2115

Luigi sighed as the music thumped outside of their private booth. Terry had recommended this place to them, saying the mohawked DJ at the highest point of the club had once been an opponent of his. Hubert had gone into a whole labored speech about how a noisy club would provide great cover, but all Luigi could feel was the juxtaposition of the wild party outside and the hanging dread inside their booth.

"THIS IS DUCK KING COMIN' AT YOU LIVE!" hooted the DJ to the cheers of the clubbers, "I know what y'all want, and I think it's time for an old favorite. Duck You Too!"

"He…he just named the club after the damn song huh?" Luigi weakly chided,

Not even his weak attempt at a joke could take Daisy's eyes off that photograph Hubert had handed her when they'd all arrived. She had kept her expression neutral, but her blinking away welling tears confirmed the horrible truth to Luigi. He cast a glance around the private booth in which they sat. The songstress Dorothea had seen it too, her face morphing into a sympathetic frown. The Black Eagles that didn't follow suit glanced around confusedly.

"So they were all in on it huh?" Daisy reasoned.

"Yes," Hubert nodded, "Even the one you asked that we spare."

He tapped a few commands on his communicator, the sound file projecting the a voice Luigi knew well.

"You know I can't do that!" begged the voice of an elderly voice Luigi knew well.

"Governor Avebury!" roared the unmistakable voice of Governor Ono.

In the pause of the recording, Luigi and Daisy shared somber glances. That was the governor Daisy considered a family friend, and they both knew that the recording would implicate him.

"If you do not join us in our coup-d'etat," declared Ono, "That ungovernable harlot will come for you as well."

"And you assume this, why? Because you bare some hatred to Luigi/"

"It isn't about my personal feelings, Governor. Do you trust Luigi's judgment, the judgment of a commoner implicitly?"

"I do have concerns about Luigi's effectiveness to rule…"

"Ah ha!" hooted Ono, ""And you would gamble Anna's future, the future to her Seven Star-given right to Sarasaland's wealth, on the effectiveness of a coddled princess and the commoner she's chosen?"

Avebury sighed. His ponderous silence lasted only about 30 seconds on the recording, but felt like an eternity to those listening.

"And furthermore, who's to say Daisy on the throne won't give that wretched Bowser all the excuses he needs to stomp the land dry like some forgotten mudhole?"

Avebury's tongue clicked, his command wrought with pain, "Ono, enough!"

Again, he sighed, but his next words were bereft of any hesitation.

"The royal family, and especially Daisy has treated my family well. But I cannot gamble Sarsaland's, or Anna's future, for even a second."

"Good man," purred Ono, "We have much to discuss."

The communicator gave a click indicating the sound file had reached its end.

"That," Hubert explained, "Is the recording ROB's surveillance system picked up on, 8 hours before their in-person discussion of the plan."

"So eight hours before… this," Daisy asked, waving the photograph in her hand.

Luigi couldn't help but shiver.

"Is that a…crime scene photo?" Luigi gulped.

Daisy sighed. That was the confirmation he needed.

"You sure you want me to show you?"

He swallowed the bile pooling in his throat and nodded.

"If I'm to be king," Luigi decreed, "Then we need to shoulder all burdens 50/50.

Daisy smiled through newly welling tears, letting an anxious sigh escape her before she flipped the photograph around to them. A large table, adorned with a velvet table cloth and garish golden dishes, played host to no less than 30 limp corpses, each hunched over in a plate of food.

"And so," Hubert hissed, "The dye has been cast. You are now the undisputed princess of Sarasaland."

"Soon to be queen," Dorothea interrupted.

"Yep! And as a gesture of good will the Adrestian Empire will have as many seats at my wedding as you request."

For the first time since the group arrived, the Black Eagles began to clamor. Luigi sighed. Of all things to drown out the house music, it was more wedding talk. Edelgard had seen Daisy tense just as she had, the white-haired princess bearing a deep frown.

"Enough," Edelgard ordered, "We will cross that bridge when we come to it,"

Petra's forehead wrinkled in thought, "I've never understood that saying. How could one cross a bridge before you've arrived."

"I thought Professor Byleth was teaching you all of our idioms," snarked Ferdinand, "But then again, that's not the only thing he's taught you is it?"

Tetra blushed. Luigi cast a glance over at Hubert, who's usual frowning face sported an almost undetectable grin.

"I said enough," snapped Edelgard, "This is a time to celebrate the forging of new allies, and with business taken care of, that's what we'll do."

Following Edelgard's lead, the table raised their shot glasses into the air.

"To the Sarasland Empire, King Luigi, and Queen Daisy. Long may they reign," declared Edelgard.

"Long may they reign!" shouted the rest of the Black Eagles, downing their shots of water.

Daisy and Luigi exchanged confused glances.

"Long may we reign, I guess?" Daisy giggled, shrugging.

"Yeah," Luigi laughed back, taking his shot, "It's like when someone is you're getting happy birthday sung to you? What do you do?"

Petra pounded the table, causing everyone to look at her,

"Yes!" she parroted, "What do you do?"

Caspar rolled his eyes, "For crying out loud. Petra has found kindred spirits in awkwardness."

"She's not awkward Caspar," snapped Bernadetta, "She's learning another language,"

"Says the queen of awkwardness herself," Ferdinand cast a sassy glance at Bernadetta.

Luigi followed the rest of the Black Eagles' gazes, all uneasily locked on Hubert, who's ridgid stance now sported a closed left fist and a tightening frown.

"So Daisy, Edie, why don't you say we dance some?" squeaked Dorothea,"

"Yes, let's go," Edelgard hurriedly commanded.

Just as Daisy pulled Luigi, he saw Edelgard lean over to whisper something to Hubert, who immediately snapped into his usual neutral posture.

The relative peace of their private booth immediately left them as Luigi was ushered into a world of colored lights and the booming music. Luckily this was Daisy's forte, and all he had to do watch her movements, following her lead. Luigi shot a glance to his right, Dorothea dancing around Edelgard, the other girl looking positively frightened and rigid.

All Daisy had to do was pinch his back to let Luigi know she wanted to be dipped. The feeling came, and he did. Luigi dipped her, locking eyes with a random Koopa across the club. The turtle blinked, turning to their friend, a green speckled Toad. The turtle said something inaudible over the music. In response the Toad made an 'I can't hear you," gesture. Before Luigi could process what had happened, Daisy had snapped back into position, now dipping him.

As Luigi hung upside down, finally watching Edelgard make moves to the beat. Luigi felt a cold pang of anxiety go up his spine. He had seen Donkey Kong go into Smash City with Bowser earlier that day.

What could Donkey Kong possibly be planning with that idiot? Luigi wondered, as he was snapped up into a long, soft kiss by Daisy.

Donkey Kong

900

Smash City

"Kunio-Kun" Section

Donkey Kong sniffed the air, growling. Modern, dirty. Those who passed the outdoor patio in which he and Bowser sat gawked. Some asked for autographs. One sneer was usually enough to shy them away. And what was worse, he could hear the inane yammerings of these city slickers.

"Did you hear that Kunio and Riki are going to be in a tag match against the Lee Brothers at the Super Battle Royale Slam Jam at Capcom Stadium?" one girl excitedly chittered as the notification popped up on her phone.

"Yeah I did!" cheered the woman beside her, "I'm so there!"

Donkey Kong snorted as his wrist communicator beeped with the same notification. The communicator kept the Smashers informed of all the events around the massive city. Donkey Kong gave another annoyed grunt, looking at his communicator. How could he turn them off? Maybe Luigi would know.

"Um, Earth to Donkey Kong,"whined another voice.

Donkey Kong's eyes snapped up to see Bowser impatiently drumming his massive claws on the table.

What's gotten into you," he asked, "Missin' your butt buddy Diddy?"

The sneering king of the jungle snapped his angry gaze to Bowser.

"Nah," grunted DK, "He and Banjo wanted to race around a track somewhere, for old time's sake."

Bowser tilted his head, "Then what's the problem?"

"This isn't a scone," Donkey Kong grumbled, "This is ice cream,"

Bowser blew a dismissive raspberry, "Same diff."

Donkey Kong raised an eyebrow, Bowser immediately sulked.

"When you havee a daughter like mine who's glued to her smart phone. You pick up the terms, you know?"

Donkey Kong huffed, "I wouldn't."

Bowser huffed back.

"Now you're mocking me?" DK inquired.

"I'm saying shut up and eat your damn ice cream."

Donkey Kong reclined in the chair, resting his hands on the back of his head.

"I should've known."

"Should've known what?"

"That you wouldn't even follow up on your most basic of promises. My money's going somewhere else. Like a banana scone."

Donkey Kong stood up, angrily pawing at his communicator, and jumping through a portal, leaving a slackjawwed Koopa King behind.

Zelda

800

Smash Mansion

Stage Floor

Hyrule Temple 64 Stage

Erdrick soaked in the silence around him. The auditorium above each stage was designed to seat 110 people. However, this early in the morning, the Hyrule Temple 64 sat nearly empty, housing only the ninja trio and himself. They sat to watch Zelda spar against Captain Falcon. As the two did some final stretches, Erdrick absorbed the stage beneath them, a jagged attempt at a castle, as if was built with children's toy blocks.

"This is what they used to fight on?" balked Erdrick.

Greninja cast a look at him, nodding.

"Oui. My research indicates that the Original 12 had far less resources, and things to consider, than we do."

As if that was the go cue, the two fighters on the field charged, flaying punches at each other at lightning speed. Falcon backflipped, somehow dismounting into a crouch.

"FALCON KICK!"

Zelda transformed from Sheik back to her usual form"FAYORE'S WIND!"

Captain Falcon's kick only caught the breeze Zelda left behind. The clang of a Phantom Knight assembling alerted the Captain to turn around quickly, blocking just as the Knight rushed forward, offering a single slash of his sword.

"FALCON KICK!"

Kicking past the armor, Falcon zoomed forward, only to fly directly into the blast of fire and sulfur Sheik would create when teleporting away. Before he could turn, a Bouncing Fish wrapped around his ankle, sending him up into the air with an explosion, the explosion leading to Zelda's signature Din's foot, knocking him so far out he could touch the Blast Zone.

"FALCON KICK!"

The jetting kick did not propel him enough, sending him dropping limply into the Blast Zone.

As Falcon got off the Revival Platform, he laughed, "You've been improving on the speed of your transformation young lady."

"Thank you," Zelda nodded, "Yes, something feels different about this."

Falcon nodded, "Like what?"

Zelda blushed, "I have someone to impress at this tournament."

"I've never seen you like this young lady. This person must be pretty important."

Zelda smiled, "Always perceptive Mister Falcon. Now, if we could continue."

"YES!" Falcon cheered.

As the two once again began to pivot around each other, angling for the best possible blow, Erdrick couldn't help the breath catching in his throat.

Does she speak of me? the warrior wondered.

As if he could read his mind, Yoshimitsu piped up, "What is the colloquialism Hayabusa-san? Erdick and Zelda sitting in a tree?"

"Correct, but it's often the mark of immaturity to say such a thing," Hayabusa hissed.

"Ease up Hayabusa," Erdrick said, "I'm not going to deny that I'm…quite fascinated by Zelda."

"That is certainly one word for it, mon ami." Greninja snarked, his tongue flicking mischievously.

Ignoring the defeated sigh of Hayabusa and the snickers of the other two ninjas, Erdrick watched on. Eventually, Zelda called an end to the training session, and the four onlookers made their way down the elevator single file. The ninjas were eagerly asking Zelda to join their ninja troupe, but as soon as she caught a glimpse of Erdrick, she stepped past them, flashing Erdrick a gleeful smile.

"How did I do?" she asked.

"You moved with the grace and elegance one would've expected from you Princess. It's especially awe-inspiring to me, as we knights have never moved with the most grace."

Zelda instinctively put her hand to her mouth to mask a laugh, Erdrick found himself mirroring the action, snapping back to his usual posture as soon as he noticed.

"And," sputtered Erdrick, "You are improving. That is, Falcon said you were, and considering you all have been a part of this longer than I have, I figured his word was pretty reliable."

Zelda nodded, "Yes, yes it is."

Erdrick took a deep breath.

"Would you be so kind to me as to accompany me to the park Zelda? It is a lovely day out."

"Yes I would Erdrick," she nodded, "Yes I would."

Zelda turned to Falcon.

"As for you sir, are you still looking to train with the Champions tomorrow?"

"As always, I'm looking forward to it." he said, with a salute.

Erdrick and Zelda began to walk out of the Hyrule Temple 64 stage in step, Zelda stopping before the door, offering her arm.

"Will you take my arm, oh noble knight?" she said with a smile.

Erdrick smiled back, "Yes I would Zelda. Yes I would."

Zelda chuckled as Erdrick took her arm, and together they left the Training Room.

"Zounds!" Yoshimitsu exclaimed as soon as the two were out of earshot, "I'm glad those Links weren't around. They are quite protective of the princess, and I did not wish to have to break up a fight between them."

"Yes," agreed Hayabusa, "Link is an intimidating character to say the least."

Greninja and Falcon enjoyed knowing glances.

"Link's a big teddy bear once you get to know him," Falcon explained.

"For Sir Erdrick's sake, I pray that this is the truth," said Yoshimitsu.

Ganondorf

Smash Mansion
Ganondorf's room

700

Ganondorf had been up for the previous two hours. His upbringing in the Gerudo desert had made his body incredibly in sync with the natural elements, sunrise as the beginning of the day, sunset as the end. But, his hours at rest had been even further trimmed by his stay in the Sacred Realm. In the absence of time, sleep had been meaningless.

Ganondorf's communicator beeped. He keyed a holographic button, the text appearing in the air, a simple sentence from Bayonetta

Be in the Umbra Clocktower, stage I'll be waiting

Ganondorf grinned as he changed into his armor. Causing distress gave him that pep in his step that replaced a good night's sleep in his demented mind. Ganondorf made his way down the Residency Hall, the massive hallway eerily quiet. Grabbing some berries and a slice of bread from the cafeteria, ignoring Kirby inhaling one of his many meals as he headed down the long spire to the Training Floor. Outside of the slices of Cloud's sword behind the Midgar and Assassin's Creed doors, this floor too was eerily quiet.

Prying open the Umbra Clock Tower, Bayonetta stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed, frowning deeply.

"Where is she?" Ganondorf growled

Bayonetta jerked a finger up. The roof above them became opaque, revealing Samus sitting in the barren auditorium.

Ganondorf grinned, "Good, she watches."

"I'd take that lilt out of your voice if I were you," Bayonetta warned, "You get one shot, 300 stamina. "

The grin did not waver, "You've changed the rules."

"Like you haven't schemed your way to the top of Hyrule doing the same thing," Bayonetta rolled her eyes.

"Oh, I understand the comeuppance you think you're enacting. All this will serve to do is make victory all the sweeter."

Bayonetta strode to the control cabinet, "So you say,"

The witch clicked a single button, and the blank room flared to life, the duo now standing on a falling clock face "The Legend of Aesir" blaring in the background. The two stared each other down as the automated voice of Mills counted down.

GO!

The two charged each other, Ganondorf barrelling through the lithe form of Bayonetta shoulder first, sticking out a palm coursing with dark energy, pie-facing Bayonetta as she flew backward. A Wicked Weave heel stomped on the ground between then, Bayonetta sliding through it, the impact and the accompanying bullets knocking Ganondorf back.

"Hm. Clever," Ganondorf grunted.

A cartwheeling kick from Bayonetta knocked Ganondorf further up.

"Do you ever shut up?" asked Bayonetta.

She spun into the air, drilling the Gerudo King in the air, a flying jumping kick, and another kick linking the combo together.

Ganondorf backflipped backward, readying his sword as Bayonetta stumbled to close the gap.

"DORYAH!" cried Ganondorf.

The cleave downward knocked Bayonetta off the stage, but she slid gratefully through the air. Ganondorf readied his Warlock Punch, but Bayonetta floated upward at the last moment, making sure the legendary punch met nothing but air. Ganondorf whipped around, grabbing Bayonetta by the throat.

"Feel the might of my Flame Choke, wench."

Dark energy exploded from Ganondorf's hand, sending Bayonetta to the ground. Bayonetta rolled away to avoid the sweep kick that always followed this.

"What?" Ganondorf snarled, charging.

Bayonetta jumped into the air, "Twenty years of footage exists of you doing that, and you're shocked someone dodging it/'

"Why you…"

Ganondorf's seething left him a prime target for a falling split kick. Unfortunately, this left Bayonetta open for another darkness-imbued palm strike. Bayonetta parried a front kick, but was open for a second one. As Bayonetta recoiled from the blow, Ganondorf readied his sword for another downward cleave.

"DORYAH!"

Darkness imbued him. His muscles felt like stone. A clock hand orbited around him.

"Is that all you've got?" taunted Bayonetta.

"YOU CUR!" roared Ganondorf.

Ganondorf launched into another Flame Choke the moment he could. As soon as the dark flame erupted, Bayonetta had rolled backward, firing the guns on her legs. Ganondorf wading his way through the bullets did not deter Bayonetta, launching a combination of hook kicks. Ganondorf angrily readied his Warlock Punch once again, Bayonetta simply hopping into the air to avoid it. Ganondorf was ready with another front kick, but Bayonetta turned into a flock of bats.

"Absolutely stunning footwork sire," Bayonetta's disembodied voice said, dripping with sarcasm.

Snapping back into her usual form, Bayonetta launched at Ganondorf with a Wicked Weave fist. This gave Ganondorf the cover he needed to fire off a Warlock Punch on an unsuspecting Bayonetta. However, she immediately became aglow with the power of a Final Smash.

"You didn't tell me we would have this power!" yelled Ganondorf.

"Sue me," spat Bayonetta.

"You…" Ganondorf's voice quivered with anger.

"SMASHING!" cried Bayonetta.

The world slowed, leaving Ganondorf vulnerable for a combo, summoning Madama Butterfly in full.

"INFERNAL CLIMAX!" Bayonetta roared.

Madama Butterfly chomped at Bayonetta, finally letting him go with a mighty roar.

Ganondorf huffed, shaking the pain away as he checked his communicator.

"Even after all that," huffed Ganondorf, chuckling, "You only hold a twenty hit point lead over me."

"I doubt you'll be able to bridge that gap," Bayonetta shrugged.

As she said that, Ganondorf was imbued with the power of a Final Smash.

Ganondorf gritted his teeth, "You will eat those words witch."

Turning into Ganon, he sliced the air around him, stunning Bayonetta and bulldozing her in the process.

Bayonetta wordlessly began to fire all four of her guns, but Ganondorf soldiered through it, hitting Bayonetta with a sweep, leaving her open for a sword cleave.

As Bayonetta pivoted from being launched away to flying back to the stage, Ganondorf could only smile.

"Prepare to serve me Aran," he growled.

Cocking back for a Warlock Punch, Bayonetta was right in line with the blow.

Ganondorf felt his fist bounce against the surface of Bayonetta's body. She had executed a parry..

"Get out," Bayonetta demanded, waylaying Ganondorf with punches.

A Witch Twist launched Ganondorf into the air, but overshooting on a follow up sliding kick left him open for a powerful air stomp from Ganondorf.

"Shit," cursed Bayonetta
Snapping back into Warlock Punch allowed him to tank another, more desperate Witch Twist, leaving her open for a final Warlock Punch.

As the match was declared over, Ganondorf howled with laughter as he sat in the Healing Plant's glow. As soon as the damage was mended, both Smashers found themselves in the blank room, Samus having wrapped Bayonetta in a hug.

"I failed you," grumbled Bayonetta.

"You didn't," Samus said with a small smile, "I'll survive,"

Ganondorf huffed as Bayonetta smiled back at her girlfriend.

"Pathetic," declared Ganondorf, "I'll see you tomorrow,"

Strutting out of the training room, and up the spire, he once again passed Kirby inhaling even more food, this time joined by King Dedede. The penguin emperor's eyes caught his, the knit-capped king reeling backward.

"I don't like that look there son,"

"It matters not," Ganondorf said, casting a snobbish glance at the Dreamlandians, "For all that it ensures is that I will be Smash Champion."

As Ganondorf ascended the staircase back to the Residency Hall, King Dedede cast a look at Kirby, "Am I sure glad I'm out of dat dere tournament."

"Poyo!" Kirby chirped, nodding in agreement.

Red

1000

Smash Mansion
Mail Room

Red cast a glance around the Mail Room. A side room to the kitchen, the room was seldom visited because, quite frankly, anyone worth contacting had their respective Smash contact's communicator number already. Fanmail littered each mailbox, but Luigi's one of the first twelve mailboxes, positively overflowed with 'To: Luigi From: Mister L" letters. As he walked towards his own mailbox, he shot a text to Luigi.

Hey, your mailbox is overflowing

Red had made it to his mailbox, in between Sonic's and Lucario's, as Luigi responded.

I know, lol. Ignoring it.

Red nodded to himself as he shuffled through his mailbox. Fan-mail. Fan-mail, conservation magazine, PokeMart flier (how did they find him here? He got enough spam mail at home!)

And there, at the midpoint in a mountain of mail, he found what he needed. A manilla folder with the words Property of Cornerian Defense Force, a subdivision of the Lylatian Council, DO NOT OPEN, TOP SECRET. IF FOUND, RETURN TO COMMANDER W. GREY

Tucking the manilla folder under his arm, he brought his Smash Communicator to his lips.

"Text Green," he commanded the device.

A beep indicated that the red, bulky watch had heard him.

"What would you like to text to Green?" asked the communicator's robotic voice

"Meet me up in my room. Olimar's out early for some Pikmin talk in the city. We've got some studying to do,"

"Text that to Green?" asked the communicator.

"Yes," Red said, hurrying out of the mail room and up the stairs.

Luckily, Red's room was one of the first along the cavalcade of apartment doors that made up the Residency Hall, so Red was able to lock the door behind him, tossing the folder onto the bed. The files at the front of the folder were mugshots, which only served to show the degradation of the poor guy's bad eye. What once was a scarred, but still usable eye, had morphed into a grayed out blind eye, to the eyeball being completely absent.

Red winced, both from the gore before him, and from a knock at the door.

"Open up ya Shellderhead," beckoned Green from beyond the door.

Red rolled his eyes, standing up and jogging over to the door opening it. Green's shoulder length hair was tied in a ponytail, her usual training outfit replaced with a velvety purple tracksuit.

"Hey," Green greeted, "You caught me just as me and the kids were about to go for a run."

Red grinned. Through the brashness of their battles, he still found himself caught off guard at how familial Green could be to her Pokemon.

"Where's your crew?" Green asked.

"Oh," Red realized, "Tucked away in their balls. I like to give them the day off after a battle. They had enough of the gym to wild Pokemon grind for a lifetime I figure."

"That's sweet Red," Green said in a hushed voice, eagerly looking over to the bed.

"What?" Red asked.

"When Fox said he'd get you a classified dossier on O'Donnell I didn't think…"

Red shook his head, "Fox is a man of his word. I've lived in the same house with the guy for three tournaments now and I don't think I've ever heard him say anything jokingly."

" I guess there's enough sarcasm for an entire team with Falco around," Green observed as the two walked to the bed.

"Yeesh, the guy's been through it huh?" Green winced as she too saw the photographs.

"Yeah," was Red's only reply.

He began to shuffle through the nearly empty, formless folder, prying out something that looked like a motion sensor bomb.

"What the…?" Green asked.

Red pressed the center button, and a hologram flared to life. A date accompanied by a charge flared scrolled past so quickly that Red could only keep his eyes on some of it.

"Murder, murder, murder, grand larsony. Arson, murder again…" Red listed off.

"And the drunk and disorderly charges have started," Green groaned as several of the same charge began to drift by.

"Really would've thought those would've been his first charges, not murder," Red noted.

Green nodded, as the parade of drunk and disorderly charges continued, "I guess he's a lot more brutal than we thought, like as a baseline, you know?"

Crimes against the Galactic Federation began to find themselves among the drunk and disorderly charges.

"That's gotta be around the time Fox first bumped into him, fighting that Andross guy," Green concluded

Escape from a prison colony flashed on screen

"Wait what in the name of Darkrai?" Red balked.

"Yeah," Green nodded, "Imagine how tenacious you have to be to escape from a freakin' space prison."

"That's gotta be around Melee? Always heard Star Wolf was on sight for the Melee tournament.

"Yep, there it is," Green pointed at the screen, "Breaking Super Smash Brothers Peace Accords."

Red pressed a button on the outer rim of the circle, pausing the hologram. Scrolling up as lightly as he could so that Breaking Super Smash Brothers Peace Accords was the center one, he pressed a button. A circle with a line through it appeared to screen before flashing back to the original menu.

"Did you just hit back?" Green balked, laughing nervously.

Red shrugged, "I guess."

"Does that mean that one of these hologram things are meant to hold multiple people's records, but this one is all for Wolf?"

Red grimaced at the thought, immediately texting Fox that question exactly. The response he got back chilled him to his very core.

Yep. Usually holds all the incarceration of one prison colony. Wolf's rap sheet takes up too much disc space

"Arceus, Palkia, and Dialga," Green whispered in awe.

"I know,"

With that, Red clicked the Peace Accords charge.

Mister O'Donnell was found as an accessory to a bar fight with Mister Pigma Dengar, Mister Andrew Oinkonny, and Mister Leon Powalski. The Super Smash Brothers were awarded the bounty of 50,000 credits.

Red pressed the same button that had paused the hologram, and the scroll down the list continued.

Criminal record expunged, in order to compensate for assistance during Aparoid Conflict, was the next piece of Wolf O'Donnell's criminal record.

11 counts of defrauding the Cuthbert Aeronautics Company, 12 years in prison.

"He gets his criminal record cleared, and he's back in the slammer, how long?" Green shouted.

Red chuckled, "I don't know how to read the Lylatian calendar, but apparently the Brawl tournament happened right after the Aparoid conflict, so not long."

Green reached over, pausing the screen, scrolling back up to the defrauding of the Cuthbert company, and staring at it.

"What?" Red asked.

"I never would've thought of Wolf as intelligent enough to be a con artist, but I guess if you think back to his match with Lucario, that at least indicates that he's not just some galoot.

Red's face twisted in a frown, "Do you think he'd try to sweet talk the…"

He cast a knowing glance over at his Pokemon Trainer's belt, which held his three Pokeballs in place. Green followed his glance, also frowning at the realization.

"Yeah, geez, that's rough to think about. I guess it'd be no different than a confusion status effect, or attraction. Just be careful," Green's warning was sympathetic to the task ahead.

Red nodded, unpausing the hologram.

Bail met, 6 million credits, bail paid by M. Hand was the next notation.

"Yep, this is it. That has to be for the Brawl Tournament," Red explained, "I remember meeting the other two, Leon and Panther at that one. No doubt Hand paid their bail too.

Whatever nervous sympathy Green had had for Red and his team immediately melted away as she snorted with laughter.
"So let me get this straight," Green began, "He's murdered Arceus knows how many people, caused however many accidents by being drunk, and you can just bail him out with the amount of money Erica has as in walking around money."

Red laughed, thinking back to the famously wealthy Celadon Gym Leader.

"Money talks," Red reasoned, "How do you think Giovanni was able to keep his stuff under reps until I outright caught him at it."

"I guess that's true," Green said with a sigh.

The next charge made Red and Green glance each at each other and sigh.

Breaking Super Smash Brothers Peace Accords.

"You were there for that one right?" Green asked.

To this, Red nodded, "Yep. Right as we were wrapping up the Subspace business, Wolf almost killed Fox with his bare hands. Or at least, he would have had Falco not shot him in the leg."

"Arceus," Green sighed, "Is that why his fighting stance changed?"

"I mean," Red shrugged, "Wolf would never tell you that himself, but that's the running gag in the Brawl groupchat."

Green raised an eyebrow, "There's a Brawl groupchat?"

"Well yeah," Red stuttered, "There's a Duel groupchat. We're both in it!"

Green laughed at Red's exasperated protestations, putting on a faux authoritative face, "What do you talk about in that group chat young man?"

Red shook his head, "Subspace stuff. Mostly Dedede's tall tales, that we were all there for."

"Sounds about right," Green said with a giggle.

"Oh look," Red pointed at the screen. "Wolf got released."

"Just in time for Duel right?" reminisced Green, "Arceus, that's all that Officer Plum lady could talk about when she was at one of Peach's Tea Parties , all the nights Wolf spent in the drunk tank.

Breaking Super Smash Brothers Peace Accords

"What happened NOW?" shouted Green.

Red hurriedly reached over, clicking the charge.

"Illegal betting."

"That's the one I'm gonna call Tauros-shit on," Green announced, "People bet all the time around here."

"Yeah," Red nodded, "But the official channels help the powers that be keep an eye on every Smash Coin that circulates. Those are the rarest and most valuable coins in the multiverse after all."

"I know that, but…"

Something caught Green's eye on the screen.

"Oh, he also robbed a guy," Green explained, "Tauros-shit call officially retracted."

Some of the old familiars began to scroll down the list. Variants of murder and grand theft spacecraft began to cycle endlessly. Money laundering broke up the throng 10 minutes later.

Bounty retractation made by request of Fox McCloud and Gen Peppy Hare…denied.

Red clicked that one, thumbing through the newspaper clipping.

"Anglar," Red paused, "Yeah, Fox was real torn up about that last tournament, lead to a breakup with Krystal and everything"

"Geeze," Green once again said, "But they're back on the mend, at least."

Red nodded "Yeah,"

Red pressed the back button, and that was the last one, the hologram shutting off.

"And that's it," Red announced.

"So just be careful, is what we're saying, because he might try to manipulate the kids, is what we're saying."

"Yeah," Red concluded, nodding once again.

The two sat in silence for a while, each thumbing through the news on their respective communicator.

"Arven's taking on Gym Leader Castle," Green mumbled.

"Who?"

"Red you idiot," scoffed Green, "That's Arven Turo, the son of that robot…professor…guy from Paldea."

"That guy that's been palling around with that champion who has the…"

"Miraidon, yes."

"Which brings to mind Green," Red asked, "How'd you get one?"

"Having caught Hoopa really can let you do some amazing things," Green bragged, "For example, travel to the future and grab one for myself."

"You'd really abuse time travel for that?" Red scoffed.

With a groan, Green flopped out of her sitting position, now laying on the bed.

"What?" protested Green. "Cloud, Dante, and Travis and all of them look so cool on their motorcycles and I wanted one."

Red sat silently, pondering what his life long friend had just said.

"Do you know where I could get a Cyclizar?"

Green's eyes widened as she sat right back up,

"Oh! I saw an ad in the city that was looking to trade one for a Kantonian Tauros."

Red smiled, "I have like six of those, from trying to catch Squirtle and Ivysaur in the Safari Zone."

"Great! I'll respond to that ad for ya!"

As Green began to key away, the duo fell into silence, Red getting distracted by an alert about a music festival in the Dreamland section of town. Little did he realize, Green had intermittently scooched over, now cradling his hand in her's.

"Ya know. I've been thinking about Fox and Krystal," she said, "If they can find love in this crazy place, so can we."

"Yeah," Red said.

Hand in hand, the two once again sat in silence, this time locked in each other's gazes.

"We should finally set up that dinner with Lucas' parents," decided Green, "What a better way to celebrate us being official?"

"I can't think of one." Red admitted.

"I'll text Lucas, you text the others?"

"Sounds good Green,"

Red was barely able to press a button before he was interrupted yet again.

"Oh shit," Green suddenly yelped

"What?" Red asked.

"I've gotta clean up for the date."

"Nah, you don't."

"You like this ratty old tracksuit I bought in Unova three years ago?"

"Yeah," Red nodded, "You're still a ten in my eyes."

Green grinned, "Who knew you were such a charmer?"
The two got to work, looking at their own communicators, their hands still interlinked.

Wolf

1300

Smash City

Pokemon Section
"White City" district

Gym Leader Castle

For as long as Smash City had existed, White City and the Gym Leader Castle had too. A replica of a popular theme park that stood on the border of Johto and Kanto, Master Hand had copied it wholesale while creating the original Smash City, as well as expanding upon its most popular attraction, the Gym Leader Castle.

Unlike the original Castle, which played host to Kanto and Johto Gym Leaders in a gauntlet challenge every four years, the Smash City Castle hosted a floor for every Gym Leader in the Pokemon world as more regions were absorbed into the greater Pokemon League. Now a staggering 86 floors high, the gym leaders, champions, and the regions governing bodies, whether that be the Elite Four or the Kahunas, gathered for trainers to take on the ultimate challenge.

Its history did not matter to Wolf. All that matter that the elevator door closed, ushering The Star Wolf Team r to the VIP floor, away from the marks.

"I've been to every tournament since Melee," Leon observed as the elevator ascended the massive building, "And I'm always amazed by how many creatures live amongst each other here."

Wolf scoffed.

"All the more reason to keep out of public spaces," he grumbled.

"But boss, do you still not wish to take in all the culture on offer?" Panther gasped, "Why, just the other day I saw a fabulous piece of street art, done by someone from Samus' side of the galaxy, of all places."

\Wolf's gaze narrowed, "And?"

"I always assumed that place was an apocalyptic cesspit, the sort of place where culture goes to die," Panther explained, "And yet, I have found beauty."

"Shut yer trap," Wolf ordered, "You sound like that creep we ran into last time."

"Who?"

"You know Panther," Wolf insisted, "The noble from Ike's merry band."

"Oh, Oliver?" sneered Leon, "I thought those two would never shut up about art and beauty."

"So you see what I mean Leon?" Wolf insisted.

"In that particular instance, yes," Leon hissed, "But overall, Panther has a point. Even if you're not into art, like me, there's all sorts of things to explore. The food's better than anything in the known galaxies. Why, just the other day, Panther and I had teriyaki ice cream."

Wolf gagged.

"We've been over this Leon, the big dog and pony artsy stuff ain't for me. I get what I need to survive, and that's it."

"Poetic words from someone who has as much filth in their system as you do."

"Gah, not this straight edge shit," Wolf moaned, "You're on thin ice Caruso."
"Wolf, at least try something," Leon begged, "The food is far more delicious than you might expect, boss. I believe the saying is 'Don't knock it till you try it." Panther purred.

Wolf's ears drooped. The only way to get his squadmates off this train of thought was to agree. He'd just hoped they'd have enough sense to shut up this tournament.

"Bah, whatever you say," he snarled.

The elevator door opened. The elevator attendant reeled back a step in shock. Leon and Wolf chuckled, while Panther simply scoffed, boredly crossing his arms.

"Yeah kid," Wolf said with a fanged smile, "The tickets should be under Powalski, Leon."

The scared young man tapped at his tablet, eyes widening at the response.

"Ah, the reservation under Mister Powalski and company!" the man stammered, "You're in Booth G, please follow me."

A loud girl coming the opposite direction jabbered with her friends from the opposite end of the long hallway, Wolf's ears twitched as he tried to ignore it.

"The other booths taken up by other wealthy muckety mucks or something?" Wolf asked, rolling his good eye as the followed the man.

"Indeed they do," the young man said extra professionally, "Everyone from Silph, to The Rotamphone Company, and that's just the companies from our world!"

"So you're from the Pokemon world eh?"

"Yes Mr. O'Donnell I am!" the man excitedly said.

Wolf bore his fangs, "It's a real shame I'm gonna have to take your pussy ass hero Red out, then,"

By now, the two parties had intersected, and unfortunately for him, the source of impossibly loud voice, a girl with a tuft of green hair wearing a school uniform heard him.

"Hey look guys, it's that O'Donnell asshat," she said, "And he thinks he can get past Red, the greatest battler ever."

Her companion, a tall blue-haired boy in a matching uniform, reflexively laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Let's just get to our seats Nemona," the boy shivered.

"John, I ain't afraid of this joker, and neither should you!" Nemona stomped her foot.

"Nah, listen to your Fire Emblem circus freak boytoy. Hit the bricks before I…"

He caught sight of their companion, a girl in a hoodie too big for her, carrying a fluffy Evee backpack.

"Huh?" Wolf balked, "Ain't you that Phantom Thief that's predicting all the fights?"

The girl sighed, "For the last damn time, I'm not her."

"Did Penny just CUSS?" Nemona shouted entirely too loudly, "I guess that's a side effect of hanging out with Arven."

"Speaking of," said John, "We ought to head to our seats. We don't want to miss Arven take on the Gym Leader Castle."

"Ah, so somebody from your crew is taking this gauntlet on eh?" Leon determined with a sinister grin, "I hope he loses, and badly."

"Same goes for your flea bitten mut friend," snapped back Nemona, "Red's gonna stomp ya!"

"Arceus Nemona," Penny groaned, "Let's go,"

"Yeah, get to steppin' or you ain't gonna like what's next." threatened Wolf.

"What, you gonna make me walk the plank if I don't Patches?" shouted Nemona

The spirited girl barely had enough time to get in Wolf's face before John and Penny each took one of Nemona's arms, dragging her away, Panther and Leon doing the same with Wolf.

"Enjoy the private booth you pampered brats," Wolf shouted from one end of the hallway.

"Hey, at least my dad makes money," shouted Nemona, "You're gonna lose out on all that prize money. You'll make less money than my dad makes in a money estupido.

"See what I mean," Wolf shot glances at his cohorts, "Brat!"

Luckily, Leon and Panther had made it to their booth, the latter shutting the door.

"Calm down bossman," Panther pleaded, "They've already got food fo us,"

"I need a damn beer," growled Wolf, breaking free of his teammates' combined grasps and plopping lazily into one of the plush chairs.

"Even better," Leon licked his lips, "We've got bottle service."

Wolf's good eye raised, bolting out of the chair into Leon was.

"Mmm," Wolf purred, "Vermouth,"

Snatching the bottle away, Wolf got back into his seat.

Just as he did, a bugle sounded, Wolf rolled his good eye.

"Welcome and all for yet another Gym Leader Castle Challenge!" hollered the overly peppy announcer.

Despite metal glass between him and the common masses, Wolf could feel their cheers.

As the announcer prattled on about the fourth member of the brat's group of friends, yammering on about Pokemon League politics he didn't understand, Wolf sighed, throwing his head back "Never understood that,"

"What?" asked Leon.

"The love for this shit. You do what they do with any animals anywhere in the multiverse pretty much, and you get thrown in jail. But here, this is as much a sport as football."

Panther purred, "From what I recall, you asked the boy that in the Brawl Tournament, didn't you?"

Wolf took a swig of alcohol.

"Yeah, but he's a whelp."

Leon and Panther shared a glance at each other. Wolf glanced disinterestedly at the screen. A scruffy looking lad with an overfed bulldog walked down the hallway to the first battlefield.

As Arven squared up to his first opponent, a boy in a straw hat, Leon once again spoke up.

"Well, did he answer?" Leon asked as the first match began.

Wolf cast a glance at the screen. A caterpillar creature was charging to the massive bulldog with all the vigor it could muster.

"Some shit about how Pokemon are tools as well as companions. Sounds recited, if you ask me."

Leon began to rub his scaled maw in thought as the bulldog immediately bit the caterpillar, rendering it unconscious.

"I've heard it before," Panther realized, "When Leon and I were out getting Teriyaki ice cream, some kids at the next table over were saying that."

"And…" Leon intentionally let his thought trail off,

They watched the bulldog eliminate the straw hatted boy's next Pokemon, a simple cocoon, get eliminated with a simple tackle.

"Oh shit," Leon crowed, "This is going to be a fun night,"

"What were you saying earlier Leon?" asked Panther.

"Yeah ya bastard," Wolf demanded, "Spit it out,"

"The gossip television was saying that Red's Pokemon weren't getting along with Red in the run-up to the match with Green. Was that true?"

"That was the rumor, though I never saw it myself. How'd that make the gossip shows though. The Smash Mansion have a leak or…nevermind," Wolf came to a conclusion mid-thought, "It's the skeleton. Of course it is."

Wolf again cast a glance at the television screen. Whatever the bug boy's final Pokemon had been was short work for the bulldog, as a referee declared Arven the winner, who had wrapped his dog in a big hug.

"I'm going to the buffet table," Panther announced, "Does anyone want anything?"

Wolf nodded, "Whatever's fine kid, you know what I like."

"I'm fine," hissed Leon.

As Panther got up to make his way towards the food, Wolf watched Arven and his next opponent's Pokemon team flare up on screen. Arven's team was a rugged band of all-sorts, toughened animals from what appeared to be many regions. The unassuming boy that stood in Arven's way, appeared to have gathered whatever plant monsters he could find in a small radius.

Wolf shook the thoughts away. He couldn't let Panther and Leon know he was enjoying this, especially not after the diatribe earlier.

"So what were you sayin' Leon? About them not getting along?"

Leon licked his lips, "Well Wolf, I'm simply saying use that'

Much as Leon had earlier, Wolf rubbed his maw, processing his longtime wingman's words. Wolf glanced up to Arven encouraging another one of his strange entourage, a two-headed plant, as it was locked in a leaf throwing battle with what appeared to be nothing more than a blue skinned tuft of grass.

"If we take away their ability to encourage," Panther purred, "Your battle is as good as won."

Wolf shrugged, "It's as good a shot as anything."

"Speaking of shots," Leon grinned, "You gonna make us some rounds, or are you gonna hog that bottle all to yourself?"

Wolf laughed, standing up to head for the bar's shot glasses. What had started as a strategy session had turned to a party, as it always did. As Wolf shot glance at Leon and Panther, who were enthralled in the next Pokemon battle, he'd decided he wouldn't have it any other way.

Ken

Smash Mansion

Training Floor

King of Fighters Stadium Stage

1330

10 man survival, pushups, situps. 10 man survival, pushups, situps.

That's the rhythm Ken had been going in for the last hour after a quick lunch. He knew Terry had a chip on his shoulder, and he needed to be in his best form to stand tall against the onslaught.

"EY!" boomed Terry's voice as he threw open the door.

"Ah," Ken laughed, kipping to his feet, "And here I thought I was gonna have time to throw on another 10-man."

"Sorry to burst your bubble ya big silly," Terry laughed back, "I'm here."

Ken trotted over to the cabinet which controlled the functions of the room.

"Ya know Ken," Terry began, "When you texted me asking if I wanted to spar, I was a bit surprised."

"Why?" Ken asked, his journey to the cabinet halted.

"Well, I figured since you were training with that big ass Street Fighter conglomerate to fight the kid, you'd be off with them."

"Nah," Ken shook his head, "Gief and Mika are gonna put Quinn through his paces the old way. Boss Kanzuki wants me to take advantage of the Smash facilities, she thinks it's the only way I'll beat a Smash trained guy like Quinn."

Terry laughed, more uproariously this time, "That sounds backhanded as all hell dude!"

"Trust me, from Miss Kanzuki, that's a compliment,"

Ken finally made the rest of his walk to the control cabinet, "So anyway, any preferences on fight mode, music?"

"One stock, best of three," Terry announced, removing his cap to scratch his head, "And for music…throw on something groovy, like that Mark of the Millennium Metro City joint. Music-Needle I think it was called?"

Ken nodded approvingly, "Got it!"

With a press of a button, a featureless room became a roaring stadium, with a needle scratching a record playing through the air.

"What was that you said to me when we fought in that alternate dimension, the one where our gods went to war?"

"I remember like it was yesterday," Terry secured his tap, moving into possession, "Let's go wild!"

Ken laughed again, "Yeah!" Let's!"

The two assumed combat stances as the automatic voice counted down.
GO!
"POWER WAVE!" Terry immediately cried

"HADOKEN!" cried Ken at the same time.

Blue and orange fire met in the middle, sizzling to steam.

"Alright, we're gonna play that game eh? POWER WAVE!"

As Terry unleashed another slithering bolt of fire, Ken wordlessly jumped.

"TATSUMAKI!" he cried as he began to spin towards Terry.

Terry blocked the next two punches from Ken, guessing correctly that Ken would use his flash to close distance. He'd make him pay for that.

"RISING TACKLE!"

His spinning body connected with Ken's jaw feet first. Ken backflipped through the air, immediately assuming his ready stance. Both men charged, Ken's punches coming out faster, scoring two shots to the ribs. Terry managed to back away and outlast the follow-up Hadoken. Ken kicked away Terry's extending fist, rendering his planned straight punch useless.

"POWER WAVE!" cried Terry.

"SHORYUKEN!" Ken cried in turn.

Both moves connected, setting both men to neutral.

"BURN KNUCKLE!"

Ken jumped over it, Terry frustratedly grunted, gritting his teeth as to not let a string of curses slip. Unfortunately, that was enough to leave him wide open. A combination of blows to the back punctuated with a Shoryuken told him that.

"Agh, you pinheaded son of an ice cream maker!" Terry snapped.

The two once again charged each other, matching each other's punches and kicks move for move.

"POWAH DUNK!" screamed Terry.

That was enough to catch Ken off guard, being driven into the air and punched down again. Ken managed to hit Terry with a Shoryuken from hi knees.

"Hoo boy," Terry wheezed, backflipping out of the fall onto his feet, "I'm feelin' saucy."

Ken's serious, determined look gave way to fear, "Oh no," was all he could manage.

"POWAH GEYSER!" Terry roared.

Ken backflipped away, barely avoiding the explosions Terry conjured from the ground. Terry made a third explosion erupt with a delayed punch to the ground.

"HADOKEN!"
"Power Wave!"

Once again, the fire from each competitor met in the space between them, sizzling out.

"C'mon!" Ken beckoned him forward with a single finger, "Where's that fire?"

Terry immediately slid forward, his fist extended.

"ARE YOU OKAY!" Terry asked, connecting with the punch.

"Shoulda seen that one coming honestly," Ken grouched through gritted teeth.

"BUSTA WOLF!"

Through the wall of the King of Fighters Stadium he went. With that, the two basked in the Healing Plant long enough to heal their wounds, finding themselves once again on the stone floor of the King of Fighters Stadium.

"Hey Terry, you can't escape," Ken joked.

Terry spun his cap on his middle finger, "Smartass,"

GO!

Crack Shoot and Tatsumaki collided, both flipping through the impact of the other's signature move, landing on their feet. Another Burn Knuckle timed just as Ken took to the air for yet another Tatsumaki allowed Terry to duck the move. Terry pivoted a full 180 degrees, hitting him with another Burn Knuckle. Unfortunately, the follow up Burn Knuckle wasn't long enough to hit the spiraling fighter, neither was a follow-up Power Dunk.

"Damn, ya slippery rich boy," Terry grumbled.

Ken was on the ground. Terry saw his chance.

"POWAH DUNK!"

Ken rolled underneath him, kipping to his feet, while Terry stood crouched, his back exposed.

"SHIPPU JINRAIKYAKU!" Ken snarled.

Terry was completely defenseless in the midst of the onslaught of punches and kicks that befell him.

"SHIPPU JINRAIKYAKU!" cried Ken again

Before Terry could ask questions, he was through the wall. It only registered what had happened when the Healing Plant had cured the ringing in his head.

"The hell was that?" Terry asked.

Ken cracked his knuckles, "Little move I picked up when Shadaloo had me under their control in that Chaos otherworld.

Terry nodded, "Ah, I thought that looked familiar. Didn't think there was any footage of that escapade for you to watch, considering they wiped your memory after."

"It's amazing what you can find in this place. Master Hand had eyes everywhere, so it seems."

"My girl Corrin spends a lot of time there. Maybe we'll make a date out of it after I'm done kickin' your million dollar ass." Terry snarked, assuming his combat stance.

Ken assumed his combat stance with a laugh, "You know as well as I do, you never book a date right after a fight."

"I've never had that problem," Terry shrugged, "I've always dated chicks who could fight."

Ken shook his head, "That was always a deal breaker for me. Never could look at Chun the same after she whooped my ass the first time. You ready to go though?"

"OKAY!"

"That's what I thought you'd say Bogard."

GO!
Two Tatsumakis knocked Terry out of a Burn Knuckle, but as soon as he was on his feet, The Hungry Wolf launched into a Crack Shoot. A Power Wave knocked his prone form into the air, leaving him prime for another Power Dunk. Ken kipped to his feet, sending Terry away with a Hadoken.

"There it is," Ken cried, "There's that footwork!"

Terry smiled, "Did you think I lost my mojo or something?"

"Wouldn't dream of it Bogard," Ken shook his head, "You always just fought better when you're coming from behind."

"Fair enough," Terry said, "But that means you just gotta step it up boy."

The two charged each other, Ken's Shoryuken landing first, knocking him into the air for a trio of Tatsumakis. Unfortunately, Ken was too slow on the forth, allowing Terry to duck it.

"ARE YOU OKAY! BUSTA WOLF!"

As Terry's signature move connected, he launched into another one.

"POWER GEYSER!"

Ken spiraled away, smacking into the cracking wall the separated the Smashers from the Blast Zone.

"Guess somebody better call Chick Fil-A!" Ken wheezed, "Cuz it's sauce time!"

Terry faked shock, "Wubba wubba Masters, you insult me, you know I'm more of a Popeyes man."

"Can't get a salad from Popeyes Bogard," Ken snapped with a smile.

"You can taste the mid-ass homophobia in that shit. The sooner I put you down, the sooner this stupid conversation is going to end!"

Ken was on his feet now, woozily assuming his signature stance, "I'd like to see you try homeboy."

Ken charged his shakey opponent, his first punch parried.

"God damn it!" barked Terry.

"SHIPPU JINRAIKYAKU!"

And through the wall he went.

"KEN WINS!" announced the canned announcer's voice as the two bathed in separate Healing Plants, being teleported back to the now-featureless King of Fighters Stadium. The roof above them became opaque, revealing that Chun-Li and Ryu had been watching. The two clapped as they made their way down to the stage floor on the elevator.

"Karin's going to be pleased with that, no doubt," said Chun-Li.

"This is exactly the split second timing and ruthlessness you're going to need to beat Quinn." Ryu encouraged his friend.

The two friends fist bumped as Terry looked on.

"What?" said South Town's favorite son, "Are you this Karin Kanzuki's eyes and ears now?"

"I mean, they are?" Ken stated as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.

"And that ain't concernin' to ya?"

"Not at all Terry," Ken explained, "It's kind of a necessary evil, if this World Tour thing's gonna work."

"Seems pretty haphazard to me, not assuming that two of your people would immediately have to fight each other."

"Quinn's inclusion was haphazard, I'll admit," Chun-Li nodded in agreement, "But we all think it has potential, and it'll be interesting to see how that potential refined goes up against a veteran like Ken."

Ken scoffed mockingly, "I thought y'all were on my team."

"We are Ken, always," Ryu assured him.

"It was a joke," Ken laughed.

"But it will be interesting to see what the grapplers can do," Chun-Li explained, "That's why I was so excited to bring Quinn into a World Tour scenario like this one."

All four communicators pinged, with the news alert, "Avren Turo advances to Kanto Elite Four."

"You best be watchin' that stuff Masters, that Pokemon," Terry warned, "I think Red's going to the next round, regardless, so you better study up on that if you win."

Ken stretched his hands behind him, interlinking his fingers to stretch his knuckles, "Best not fret about that kinda stuff. I can't overlook Quinn."

"You scared of those little guys?" Terry laughed.

"I'm not looking forward to fighting a fire breathing dragon, if that's what you mean," snapped Ken.

"We've both fought worse," Ryu said matter-of-factly.

"We all have," added Chun-Li.

"That's exactly why I'm not looking forward to fighting it," Ken sighed, "Getting too old for this, I think."

"You know what always helps me compound the unrelenting march of time," Terry asked, "Beer!"

"I could use one,"

At Ken's decree, the three headed upstairs to have a mid-afternoon beer.

Quinn

Smash City

Street Fighter Section

Honda's Yakisoba

500

As Quinn stepped out of the portal, watching the sun rise over the unassuming Street Fighter base of operations, its unlit neon sign of Honda's boisterous smile catching in the sun, Quinn could've sworn he heard the pounding drums and foreboding harmonicas of a western he'd seen once on TV play.

Wonder if Rosa would be into that kind of movie?

Quinn shook the thought away, walking up to the door and knocking on it.

"Punctual as always, Mister Marmaduke, I like it!" boomed Honda's voice from beyond the door.

He swung the door open, smiling as brightly as the sign that adorned his face.

"Ring's…"

"In the back, I know. Thanks Mister Honda!" Quinn waved.

As he navigated his way around tables, he heard Honda muttering something in Japanese. Likely a quirk of the civilian-issue Smash Communicators, his snappy prayer became audible to Quinn.

"...mercy on his soul," Honda finished.

Quinn waited for the kitchen door to close before he let out a gulp. He moved automatically around the chrome kitchen implements, fear having taken the autonomy out of his movements. He pushed his way into the back roo, where Rainbow Mika and Zangief tussled with each other, their hands interlinked, pushing against each other for position. An old man in a referee's shirt smoked a cigarette. The door closing alerted the three to his presence.

"Ah, Comrade Marmaduke! I appreciate your punctuality. You would be a welcome hand on any collective farm in the motherland!"

"Thanks?" Quinn asked.

Zangief's eyes widened in realization, "Ah. Sometimes I forget that Soviet Union is no more in some reality."

"Understandable," Quinn nodded.

Reflexively, Quinn took off his signature oversized sunglasses to clean them. His eyes immediately narrowed in response to the light.

"Did Honda get a new light or something?" whined Quinn, "Cuz that thing's brighter than I realized."

Zangief and Mika exchanged glances. The former looked uneasy, the latter looked like a child concealing a prank.

"That's the thing Quinn," Mika began, leaning leisurely on the ring ropes, "You've heard of the Super Battle Royal Slam Jam correct?"

"Between my old roommates incessant texting about it and Incineroar crowing about it to anyone who'll listen," Quinn rolled his eyes before putting his sunglasses back on, "I'm aware of it,"

Mika's smile only got wider as Quinn absent mindedly jumped from the apron to the ring,

"Well," she finally revealed, "This is a qualifying match for that,"

"Huh," Quinn grunted, turning 180 degrees, "That explains the camera."

Then, the weight of the words hit.

"Qualifying match?" Quinn shrieked, "You want me to be in that?"

"Whether you win or lose, is good training, da?" said Zangief.

Quinn nodded, "Absolutely!"

"Alright," the old man in the referee said, "If everyone's on board, I'll do the introductions. My name's Grover Calhoun, I'm a referee for the VWA assigned to the bout. As it's one of them new-fangled three ways, there will be no disqualifications or countout. You get pinned, submitted, or knocked out, you're eliminated. Last person standing qualifies for the battle royale. Got it?'

Zangief and Mika nodded, but Quinn could only snicker.

"New fangled," mumbled Quinn, "Don't they do eight man ladder matches and stuff now?"

Grover rolled his eyes, "Killin' the business, that's what I say. You got any more smartass questions like that?"

With a shake of his head, Quinn deflated Grover's ornery posture. At that moment, the red light of the camera before them flared to life. They were live.

"Ring it!" ordered Grover, flicking his finger to someone in the darkness.

A bell rang, and the battle was on! The three circled each other tentatively. Quinn took his usual Brawler School stance, hopping on his toes as he strafed around the circle. Meanwhile, Mika and Zangief kept their stances wide, locking eyes with their opponents as they circled.

"MIKA HIP ATTACK!"

Sure enough, Mika flew towards Zangief posterior-first, the Russian using his mammoth arms to cradle her into a headlock. As the referee conversed with Mika, Quinn saw his opportunity, jogging over and pelting the two more experienced wrestlers with kicks to the leg. Zangief let go of the headlock, master and student exchanging knowing glances before throwing their extended arms forward for the classic Double Clothesline maneuver. The two glared at a stunned Quinn scooted to the safety of the ropes, Mika jumped onto Zangief's back, locking in a Sleeper Hold.

"Do you think such trickery will fool me?" growled Zangief

Zangief hoofed Mika off of the hold with a simple thrust of his back, having enough time to turn and grab Mika for another move as she flailed in the air. But, even in such a state, Mika had the foresight to block any incoming attack, locking her hands with Zangief.

"Good technique comrade Mika. Unfortunately, muscle is more powerful here," Unfortunately, the defensive measure didn't amount to much, as Zangief was able to push her to the bottom-left corner of the ring as soon as she landed on her feet.

"You have good technique Mika," Zangief tutted, "But muscles forged by the Motherland's tundra will always win.

"You think that's all I've got?" spat Mika.

Mika pushed the action to the center of the ring, Zangief controlling the combative waltz in order to prevent being backed into a corner. Unfortunately, in their focus on each other, they'd neglected Quinn, who managed to dropkick both in the wrists, breaking their tie-up.

"Gotcha," teased Quinn

The Mii Brawler fired a massive hooking kick on the body nearest to him, Zangief. The Russian wobbled backward, hooking his arms in the ropes. Quinn turned to deal with Mika, only to find that she was a hip attack ahead of him, Quinn immediately knocked to the mat.

"Shoulda seen that coming," an embarrassed Quinn mumbled.

He rolled to his feet, observing the situation. Each of them had inadvertently found their way to a corner of the ring Zangief still shook the cobwebs from Quinn's earlier kick, whereas Mika sat on the turnbuckle itself, loosening her wrists through gritted teeth.

Quinn and Zangief charged each other, arms extended for a collar and elbow tieup. Mika leapt from the top rope, stomping on both their wrists.

"HA!" she hollered, attacking Quinn with a time tested body slam, "See how that fe-"

Mika was mid sentence when a forearm connected with Mika's jaw, the move delivered with such force that the pop hurt Quinn's eardrums.

"You talk too much, young lady," Zangief growled.

Zangief lifted a staggered Mika up for a suplex, but Quinn scurried to his feet, landing a dropkick on Zangief's jaw, thus inadvertently causing him to complete the move on Mika. Without even thinking about it, Quinn dove onto Zangief, splaying his frame as best as he could across the sheer girth of Zangief.

In response, Grover eased himself to his knees, ready to count the pin.

"One…"

Mika dove out of a run to immediately lock a headlock on an unprepared Quinn. Quinn immediately powered both himself and Mika to their feet, hoisting her high into the air, and falling to his back, sending Mika crashing to the mat as well.

"Prizirak Stalina," guffawed Zangief, "You have true Russian instinct,"

Quinn stood as Mika writhed on the mat.

"If you think I've got instinct, check this out,"

Quinn immediately dove into a front headlock, grabbing at Zangief's trunks for leverage on a suplex. Zangief, in turn, gripped as his gi, but with far much pressure.

"I have blocked suplex from bear cub tinier than you," Zangief flatly stated.

Before Quinn could even process what was going on, he was up and over for a Zangief suplex, sat like a misbehaving child on the turnbuckle, and hit with an elbow to the neck to make sure that he was splayed out upside down, Once again, before Quinn could even think, Mika charged from across the ring, her hips in his face.

"Damn," said Mika, "What are those glasses made of?"

"Comrade Ryu tells me that Mii engineering is as sturdy as the Stalingrad factories. But this is irrelevant. Come at me with your best, my student."

At this, the two exchanged forearms, the impact vibrating across the silent air in Honda's Yakisoba. Again, the two wrestlers' forearms collided, then again, and again.

Zangief placed his hands on his hips, laughing loudly and merrily.

"I sometimes forget how sturdy you are in combat Comrade Mika. However, you will not be so sturdy against a maneuver as old as the wheat."

Zangief gripped her by the arm, attempting to throw her into the ropes, however, she turned ducking under Zangief and twisting him into a rolling kick.

"You really think I don't know how to counter an Irish Whip Master Zangief?" mocked Mika.

As Zangief wobbled seconds from collapse, and Mika admired her handy work, Quinn dove off of the top rope, spreading himself as wildly as he could. The move was a success, as both of his opponents fell.

"Gotcha right where I want you," huffed Quinn as both Zangief crawled to their knees.

Striking his usual stance and smiling brightly, Quinn unleashed a bevy of kicks into Mika's chest, then turning to do the same to Zangief, finishing off his triage with a spinning kick to the head.

"Argh," growled Zangief, "Curse the Buzzsaw Kick."

As Zangief finally collapsed, Quinn turned to Mika, but she dove at him before he could unleash another kick, rolling all the way through to twist Quinn into an unnatural position and pin his shoulders to the mat.

With an aggravated sigh, Grover once again gingerly got to his knees.

His verbal count was in rhythm with the slaps to the mat, "One…two…"

Quinn rolled to his right, breaking the pin. Their heads perpendicular to each other, Mika smiled.

"I wasn't sure what Master Zangief and the others saw in you, I'll admit," she confessed, "But as usual, the master is right. You do have instincts for this."

"Thanks," Quinn managed to gasp out.

"You need to work on your cardio though,"

Quinn frowned, unable to process someone who could be hit so hard and still be so sassy. The two eased themselves to their feet, only for Quinn to be grabbed in a waist lock by Zangief.

"HA!" shouted Mika, "It's time for our new double team maneuver, the Rainbow Cyclone '93!"

She backed up, charging, and pivoting mid pirouette to expose her hips. Quinn's arms immediately flew up, latching Mika in a waist lock himself.

"There's no way he can German Suplex both of us!" Quinn reasoned

"You underestimate the master!" Mika and Zangief said in unison,

Quinn found himself dropped onto his neck, hearing Mika crash near the ropes.

Grover was on the ground again, as Zangief kept his bridge locked, "One…two…"

Again, Quinn rolled his shoulder, maneuvering onto his belly, only for Zangief too lock him in a headlock.

"Do you give up?" asked Grover, with more zeal in his voice than Quinn thought the old man had in him.

"Nuh," grunted Quinn, his neck throbbing as Zangief twisted his neck.

Quinn heard a crash, and Zangief's gripped released, the massive man rolling away from him, groaning in pain.

"And the Mika Leg Drop strikes again!" cheered Mika

Quinn rolled to his back, which caught the attention of the rainbow-obsessed warrior.

"Now as for you," Mika thought aloud.

Mika forcefully gripped his hand into hers, attempting to pull him up, only for Quinn to use one of his feet to kick the outstretched, and vulnerable, arm.

"YEEOWCH!" she cried.

On instinct, Mika wobbled to the corner, but Zangief kipped up, unleashing a chop onto her chest, then another.
"Chops like Comrade Flair, da?" Zangief muttered to himself.

Mika screamed, grabbing Zangief and depositing him in the turnbuckle, firing back with a barrage of chops. Quinn kipped up, charging to the unprepared Mika.

"SUPLEX!" he cried.

Grabbing her by the waist, Quinn leapt into the air, spiking her down onto the mat face first. As Quinn stood up, admiring his handiwork, he felt Zangief clasp him by the waist again.

"You know," Zangief pondered, "For the incredible ring awareness you have, it is sometimes easy to forget that you have the ring awareness of my babushka.

Lifted up in the air and spiked down on his head, there was nothing he could do about it. Luckily, the blurred vision centered itself quickly, and Quinn had rolled his shoulder by Grover's count of two.

Zangief rolled to a sitting position, once again placing his hands on his hips and laughing, "But you are tougher than leader of bear pack. This I cannot deny!"

Meanwhile, Quinn and Mika staggered to their feet. Unfortunately for Quinn, he kept his head down a second too long,

"KAWADA KICKS!" screamed Mika

Quinn's position allowed, Mika to unleash with an onslaught of heaving kicks into Quinn's unprotected face, causing him to sink back to his belly. Before Mika could even think to react, Quinn's foot became engulfed in flame.

"EXPLODING KICK!" cried Quinn.

A flaming boot connected with Mika's unsuspecting head, the luchador collapsing into a heap. Scooting onto Mika's unconscious body and splaying on his back across her, Grover counted the pin.

"One…two…three!" Grover declared.

Pointing into the darkness where Quinn presumed the ring bell was, the groggy voice of Grover declared, "She's out!"

"Rainbow Mika has been eliminated!" announced the mystery person behind the bell.

As though she was able to understand the going on through her groggy state, Mika rolled out of the ring, which caused Zangief to laugh even harder.

"You have Russian instinct, but American tenaciousness," he roared, "Truly a greater opponent has not existed for me since Comrade Big Bear…or…forgive me, Comrade Raiden as he is now known,"

Scooting over to the ropes, Quinn pulled himself up.

"Don't know who that guy is," slurred Quinn through the pain. "But I'm going to surpass him."

Zangief smiled, "Well said comrade. But the time for posturing has passed, for we must decide this!"

Quinn smiled knowingly and nodded before the remaining two competitors locked up. Quinn found his way into the headlock position first,

"HA!" Quinn shouted victoriously

Quinn's victory was short-lived, as Zangief pushed towards the ropes with such force that he was sent bouncing back in the other direction, simply colliding with Zangief's near-invincible frame, and falling back first onto the mat.

"That was ze shoulder block my friend," Zangief explained, "Truly, the purest of all wrestling moves."

Quinn staggered up through gritted teeth.

"Now that I show you most pure wrestling technique," Zangief warned, "I show you most fun technique. Not for you, for Zangief."

That bit of clarification was just the opening Quinn needed, hammering punches into the big man's seemingly iron skull, Zangief dropped to one knee and Quinn immediately launched a dropkick at the side of his skull. Much to Quinn's chagrin, he simply staggered back into a squatting position, Quinn charged, jumping into the air, only to be met with a chest full of head, and once again breathless on the mat.

"Da," Zangief bragged, "Is called Iron Headbutt. Staple of Russian wrestling, passed down from one great to another."

Quinn immediately responded with a dropkick, his feet planting right on Zangief's signature tuft of chest hair, staggering him back into the turnbuckle.

"And yet," sighed Zangief, "I continue to underestimate you,"

Quinn got into position, once again his foot engulfed in flame.

"EXPLODING KICK!" Quinn announced.

Much to Quinn's eternal shock, Zangief cupped his ablaze foot in his hand.

"I was forged in greatest Soviet foundries," Zangief yelled, "A little fire does not scare The Red Cyclone!"

Throwing Quinn into the air with the greatest of ease, Zangief jumped after him, placing his flailing form onto his shoulders.

"POWERBOMB!" Zangief declared.

Crashing into the mat from what seemed like five feet up, Zangief held him in place. His shoulders were down.

"One…two…" came Grover's verbal count as he slapped the mat.

Once again, the Mii raised his shoulder. Zangief could only stare, utter disbelief crossing his face.

"Perhaps suplexes are not the answer, no," Zangief whispered to himself, backpedaling into the opposite corner.

He crouched into a three-point stance.

"Perhaps I need to invoke lessons from training partners, the brute force of a bear.".

Like a predator on the prowl, Zangief waited for just the right opportunity, waiting until Quinn's muscles were at their least active, his beaten body slumped in the corner.

With a roar not unbecoming of the bears he sought to emulate, Zangief charged, his hulking frame clashing with Quinn's. On instinct, Quinn turned, throwing windmill punches with no power behind them.

"Perhaps Comrade Sting is onto something, da?" Zangief announced to no one in particular

Zangief clasped him at the waist, throwing him overhead. Zangief shook the cobwebs, righting his vision, spiking himself upon execution of the move as hard as he'd thrown Quinn. Clawing himself over to Quinn's prone form, his eyes began to water. The pain of the Mii's earlier punch volley had just registered. Which made it all the more confusing when he saw something glow orange.

"EXPLODING KICK!"

From his back, Quinn executed his flaming kick, the boot connecting with the Zangief's unguarded mush. Like Rainbow Mika had before him, Zangief slumped to his back, unable to respond when Grover counted the final three count.

Grover made an immediate, aggressive grasp for his wrist, holding his arm up in victory.

"WINNAH!" declared the ancient referee.

After what felt like an eternity, Quinn finally rose to his feet, the referee spinning the groggy wrestler to stand right in the camera's line of sight. The two sat in this pose for a few seconds before the camera clicked off.

"That's…that's it?" wheezed Quinn.

"Yep, all that's left for you to do is show up for the big Battle Royal tomorrow at 1600. Me? I gotta go take a shit."

And with that, the grumpy referee left the ring, already lighting a cigarette as he pushed his way to the kitchen.

R. Mika and Zangief began to stir at the same time, the former not having left the ringside area since she rolled out.

"Wow, you pulled it off kid?" slurred Mika

The timekeeper accidentally rang the bell as he began to pack it away. Quinn winced.

"Yes my boy," Zangief said, sitting up, "You have paid dues for today, and you will make us proud in Battle Royal tomorrow, dah?"

Quinn nodded meekly, "Dah,"

Quinn spoke into his communicator, "Mansion," he slurred.

A portal opened, and, waving a shaky goodbye to his friends turned opponents and back again, he limped through the portal, straight to Doctor Mario's office.

Cloud

Smash City

"Little Smashville" Section

WTHIT Steakhouse

1900

Cloud cast a glance at the massive table around him. What was originally meant to be a quiet dinner between him and his already sizeable group of friends at What the Hell is It?" Steakhouse had ballooned out of his control. Snake had offered to accompany them, as that had been a mutual favorite restaurant of there's two tournaments apart. Isabelle had also happened to be with them, and she invited Sonic. Thus the party of 18 had been born.

"So is this something you Smashers do often?" Yuffie asked the table as they all took their seats, "Get into restaurants after close?"

Snake grinned, "No. It's just that Blanche owes me a favor."

"She owes you one too?" Cloud asked.

"Yeah," Snake nodded, "Team Galactic was still active then, and…"

"Is that one of the gangs from where Pikachu is from?" Wedge interrupted.

"Yep," Snake nodded, "And they were trying to shake down Blanche for protection money. I took care of them, and she owed me."

"Look at Snake, throwing his celebrity around," Sonic teased, to the giggles of Yuffie and Isabelle.

Snake glared at Sonic, despite Snake being at the head, and Sonic being at one of the center-most seats. His glare only intensified when Isabelle wrapped her arm around his.

"You should know people from Smashville operate almost exclusively on acts of kindness Sonic," Cloud added, hoping to Materia above he could diffuse the situation.

"Didn't you say you used to hang out around here?" Barrett's voice boomed across the empty restaurant, "With that in mind, I'm surprised they didn't chase you outta here with torches and pitchforks."

Snickers erupted from nearly everyone at the table. Now it was Cloud's turn to glare.

"You have to realize," Cloud began, "No one from our world was invited to Duel, so I spent a lot of time warping around the city, and the Smashville people were the ones who showed me all the kindness."

"You said it was that wannabe actor right?" said Sonic.

Cloud nodded, "Yeah, Ken."

Isabelle's jaw dropped. Sonic's confused glance did nothing to deter his date's overly dramatic expression.

"Your first experience with a Villager was Ken," Isabelle balked, "And you decided to stay?"

Cloud smiled, "Yeah, luckily I'm used to wanna-be thespians."

"I know you're not talking about-" Jessie began.

Cloud jerked a thumb to Reeve, who was sat on his right.

"Hey!" he protested.

" Cloud's right Shinra Boy," Jessie teased, "That ridiculous accent you put on for your little cat toy wouldn't land you a role in Alfred of Paldea ,"

"I had to throw on some kind of voice, and the more you do something like that, the more fun you have with it,"

"Putting on a voice like that is fun to you?" balked Snake.

"You don't understand how soul-sucking Shinra was to work for," bemoaned Reeve.

The door to the kitchen opened, Blanche towed a dolly filled to the brim with plates of steak. The faceless cat darted in between the dolly and each space at the table at lightning speed, a white flag planting in each steak with the degree to which it was cooked scribbled onto it.

"Damn Blanche," Snake exclaimed, "You're pretty good,"

Blanche wordlessly produced a pen from her apron, scribbling a blushing cartoon face onto where her own face should've been.

"Woah," Yuffie exclaimed.

"How in tarnation do yah…do that?" asked Cid.

"When you have no face, you might as well pick up some neat parlor tricks, you know?" Blanche shrugged, wiping the sharpie from her face with a napkin.

"Totally agree," Sonic nodded, "You might as well show off when you can,"

Blanche nodded back, "Yeah. Anyway, you folks enjoy your steaks, and I'm at your service for as long as you need the place Snake."

"Always a pleasure doing business with you Blanche," Snake saluted.

The cat saluted back, giggling as she strode back to the kitchen, Cid began to pry at his steak with his knife and fork, frowning.

"What's the matter Cid?" asked Tifa.

"When ya said this was a fancy steak place, I kind of assumed they'd at least have sides,"

"Cid, all the steaks are wagyu beef," Cloud explained, "That's all you need for a good meal."

As Snake nodded in agreement, a haughty laugh escaped Yuffie.

"What?" Yuffie laughed, "Did you want some unlimited peanuts to go with that?"

"Hey!" Sonic wagged a finger in the air, "Don't diss Texas Roadhouse,"

Snake crossed his arms indignantly.

"What, you gonna start giving me crap too?" demanded the hedgehog.

"No, it's just…" Snake trailed off, "Any establishment who's main gimmick is free bread products have to be running their business at a negative right?"

Sonic huffed, "What?"

"It depends on the place honestly," Tifa said, "Like, my bar also has a food menu, so it's not too egregious for me to stock up on snacks like pretzels for people who want to eat. If you don't have a food menu though, it's definitely a harder value proposition."

"We're really thankful for that too, those pretzels are the best!" Denzel proclaimed, looking up from a handheld gaming system for the first time all night.

"These pretzels…are making me thirsty," Snake muttered.

"What the hell?" moaned Barrett, "First I gotta deal with the kids acting like tech addicted zombies because somebody…"

He glared at Cloud, who pretended to be absorbed in his steak.

"Decided they needed one of them handheld game systems."

"If you're gonna blame anyone, blame us," Jessie announced, gesturing to Biggs and Wedge. "I figured if Cloud wanted to get the little squirts a gift, I could participate."

"Plus," Zack shrugged, "When have they just been allowed to have fun?"

Barrett's stern expression softened in real time.

Aerith nodded, "Yeah Barrett, it's not like there's a ton of recreation for kids after the big corporation's collapse."

Barrett sighed.

"Alright," he relented, "But if you don't put 'em away right now and eat your food they're getting hidden for the rest of the trip, you hear?"

With that threat on the table, Snake barely had time to blink before the children's game systems were tucked away and the group began to eat silently, the meal had almost concluded when Sonic spoke up.

"So Cloud," he asked, waggling his eyes suggestively, "You sweating Banjo-Kazooie?"

Cloud shook his head, "They're an obstacle to beat on the way to Sephiroth, nothing more, nothing less."

The table chattered in shock amongst themselves, but Yuffie punctuated it with "WOW!"

"What?" Cloud asked, "They don't train, and they're a one trick pony. I've tanked more than enough invincible attacks in my day. We fought the Holy Weapons and walked away, right?"

The Final Fantasy crew muttered amongst each other again, this time much more assuredly.

"I believe," concluded Red XIII, "That they are simply seeing fit to train in their own way."

Before anyone could say anything more, every communicator at the table beeped.

Professor Travis Kukui defeats Arven Turo at Gym Leader's Castle Championship Row. Arven Turo is eliminated from the Gym Leader Castle Competition.

Biggs slapped the table, "Shit, I had a bet going."

"Me too," Yuffie whined.

As Yuffie slumped dramatically into Vincent's lap, the immortal warrior immediately beginning to stroke her hair, Aerith continued the original conversation.

"Red's right Cloud," Aerith began, "Banjo and Kazooie interact with the world in ways we can't even hope to understand."

"Yeah," Sonic nodded, "There's even around a rumor going around that they know James Bond, as in the secret agent from the movies."

At this, Snake began to chuckle, the chuckle growing intensity from a full-on belly laugh.

"I don't like that," Sonic shuddered, "It scares me."

Cloud meanwhile, couldn't help but grin, "What's so funny?"

Snake explained, "I had my own dinner plans to get out of tonight, and I saw them racing with Diddy on go-karts around the park on my morning walk, and I asked if they could do me a favor…"

Banjo-Kazooie

Smash City

Metal Gear Section Marriott

The Boss' hotel room

1730

"You mean to tell me," Zero concluded, "That you've met the James Bond?"

Banjo smiled, "You betcha! We go way back"

Kazooie sighed, glancing around the hotel room. For this spur of the moment favor, Kazooie had demanded she and Banjo record a comedic phone call with the legendary soldier himself. But if Kazooie knew she'd end up in a hotel room that looked like it hadn't been remodeled since 1935, surrounded by a bevy of shady military types, she might have turned him down.

At least that lesbian named after the Beatles album has cool sunglasses she remarked inwardly, beginning to daydream about how cool she'd look in them.

Zero's face twisted, his posh demeanor now sporting a child-like whine to it"And you mean to tell me that he's here, doing espionage?"

"Yep!" Banjo nodded.

"But how can you know him?" indignantly asked Young Ocelot, "I mean, as a character in a film, isn't he a bit outside the realm of…"

"Well ya see…"

Before Banjo could begin his explanation, Kazooie covered his eyes.

"No Banjo," Kazooie snapped, "These foggies don't know how to even turn on a computer, let's not confuse them with that level of interdimensional nonsense,"

"I mean, I do," interrupted the pilot once known as Venom Snake.

"And who asked you?" countered Kazooie.

The faux-Boss sunk in his seat, "No one ever does,"

"Who invited this moronic parrot?" demanded Doctor Strangelove, her fists clenching.

"Snake sent them as a personal recommendation. I would've liked to have gotten the information from Snake himself, but he assures me that he's the next best thing." The Boss explained

Immediately, Strangelove's *posture softened.

"I mean, there's nobody that's traversed the dimensions more than us!" Kazooie proudly proclaimed.

"Oh, believe me," The Boss warned, "Snake informed me of all of that."

Banjo raised an eyebrow, "So why do you ya wanna know? Just personal interest or…"

"Yes," Boss nodded, "I've spent the majority of my time here reading about the conflicts on some of these other worlds, or lack thereof. Living in such peace, such harmony is truly beyond my philosophical understanding. And I just wanted to know, from someone who's traveled the dimensional cosmos, if it's all true.."

The bear and the bird nodded eagerly.

"Yep!" they confirmed together.

A warm grin finally pierced the Boss' unreadable poker face.

"Good," she sighed.

"If it's not too much to ask ma'am," Banjo asked, "What place has been most interestin' to ya?"

"The universe that that K.K Slider character comes from,"

"Yeah," nodded Big Boss, speaking for the first time, "We all went to a concert of his the other night. It's amazing what one can do with a simple guitar."

"Indeed," The Boss nodded, "But more importantly, it's amazing that, despite the presence of capitalistic structure, they truly work together for the greater good of their community.."

"Yeah," Young Ocelot nodded, "That Animal Crossing place just operates on commune rules. Lenin and Stalin would be soiling themselves if they ever figured out how to make things work that well."

Old Ocelot snorted, "And that's why that country crumbled. One should just give into selfish desires if they hope to lead."

The Boss growled, glaring daggers at Old Ocelot. Everyone in the room, Banjo and Kazooie included.

"While I thank you for your assistance in helping me piece together this dimensional conundrum for me, as well as indulging Zero's incessant James Bond fandom, I would like you to report something to David."

"And what would that be m-m-m-m'am?" Banjo stuttered.

The Boss stood up, only to kneel to Banjo's level, looking him right in the eye"Tell David he will meet us for breakfast tomorrow with his team."

The Mother of Special Forces slowly placed a hand on Banjo's shoulder.

"Or else," she hissed.

"Y-you got it m-m-m-ma'm." Banjo stammered harder.

"Thank you for your time Banjo and Kazooie," The Boss said, "You're dismissed."

As the duo silently waved goodbye, Banjo stood, turning on his heel and leaving the hotel suite. It wasn't until they'd turned the corner to the old elevator that Kazooie began to snicker uncontrollably.

"What?" Banjo asked.

"M-m-m-m-m-m'am,"she mocked.

"Oh stop it," scolded Banjo, "That woman was scary,"

"Oh I know," Kazooie swooned, dreamily clapping her wings together, "Between her and that Strangelove chick, that might have awoken something in me.

"For Jiggywiggy's sake."

Banjo stepped into the elevator as Kazooie giggled even harder. The door closed, and the two stood in silence for a while.

"You love me though right?" Kazooie finally broke the silence.

Banjo gave a joking sigh, "Yeah, yeah I do."

At that moment, both their communicator's pinged. A text from Diddy Kong awaited them.

DK agreed to train, see you guys bright and early tomorrow

Kazooie sighed, "I mean, I'm glad Diddy was able to pull through so soon, considering we only talked about it this morning while we were racing, but I'm not looking forward to an early morning at all!"

"We'll sleep in the day after tomorrow for sure," Banjo nodded.

"At least I've got that to look forward to."

The elevator reached the bottom floor, dinging as it opened, the two walking through a hastily configured portal into the Smash Mansion.

Administration Team

Smash Mansion
Portal Machine Room

2210

Sans cast a glance at the board room table everyone sat at. Marth, Otis, Mikey, and Shulk glared back, while ROB stared blankly at the head of the table.

"Don't you say it," Shulk growled through gritted teeth, glaring directly at Sans, "Don't you…"

"Mustache is 10 minutes late," Sans declared, "College lecture rules! We can leave!"

A groan erupted from all the present flesh and blood members of the Admin Team.

"You always pull this crap," Mikey quacked, "Every single meeting, every single time."

"You know just as well Sans that Sir Mario must meet with multiple groups in preparation for Conker's inevitable strike, the numbers have which have only increased since Cloud and Sephiroth's ilk appeared." Marth said sternly.

"I know, you gotta have public facing ops and private stuff, but doesn't it feel like we should take all of this on together? Mario's dealing with this, the Team FUCKIT stuff, he single- handedly approved the Phantom Thieves op and what happened with Porky."

"Sir Mario has chosen to shoulder many burdens independently, for which I will always respect him."

"However…" Sans goaded.

"However, you may have a point."

Sans pumped his fist, "Yes! Sans is right again,"

"At least he's delegating the tournament and Mansion security stuff to us," Shulk added, "From how I understand it, Master Hand didn't even do that."

"Do you oldtimers agree with that?" Sans asked the room, "I wasn't around for the Master Hand era so…"

"Yeah, Shulk's right," Otis agreed.

Mikey simply nodded.

"This is almost certainly true," Marth agreed, "I believe that aided in their eventual demise as much as the poisoning of the Smash Core did."

Sans nodded, pointing to ROB "What about you, bucket of bolts?"

Seconds ticked by, ROB finally coming to life, "My apologies, I was speaking to Cortana."

"We're really shipping Cortana with ROB aren't we?" Sans bemoaned.

"What?" said the other administrators in unison.

"Nevermind, sorry. That isn't something you'd understand."

"And you were just having a moan about secrecy earlier! Yet you weave some pretty intricate riddles yourself," shouted Shulk.

"You're right, I'm sorry," Sans sighed, "I guess I'm just anxious about everything. Having a war in which one guy is actively preparing is a little bit unnerving ya know?"

"You can ask him yourself," blurted ROB, "He has arrived."

As if on cue, Mario walked through the door, discarding his white top hat on an empty conference chair and easing himself into the chair at the head of the table.

"Do you really gotta wear that hat everywhere?" asled Sans.

"I'm a tournament promoter," Mario shrugged, "Gotta keep the look up,"

"I guess I can vibe with that," Sans nodded

Those at the table with eyebrows raised there's, but Mario spoke up, "Vibe?"

"Frisk's pickin' up all sorts of new lingo, and I like that particular young people phrase a lot."

Now it was Mario's turn to nod, "Ah. So, how've things been around here all day?"

"Non eventful," shrugged Shulk, "The only thing that's been a constant thread throughout the day is Dante and Vergil training."

Shulk pressed a button on his communicator, and the big screen behind them flared to life. Dante and Vergil darted around the classic Battlefield stage at seemingly light speed.

"Mama mia, and they've been going at it like this all day?" Mario asked.

"Yep," Shulk confirmed

Mario mockingly wiped his brow, "Man oh man-a, am I glad I'm not in the next round."

Everyone except Sans chuckled, a sad sigh escaping the skeleton instead.

"You missin' your friend pal?" Mario asked, his voice wrought with genuine concern.

"I mean, he's takin' this fight seriously, as he should. He's got Sephiroth next round for Toby's sake. But it ain't the same as when we watched anime and ate pizza."

Mario's forehead wrinkled in thought, "Speakin' of that, how's our resident gargoyle?"

Otis spoke up, "Nothin' new, aside from his daily trip to the springs to bathe and do his laundry at 300 hours."

"What, you worried about him too?" sarcastically squawked Mikey.

Mario shook his head, "No. I've been convinced he's committed to our cause to the beginning, and having Materia on our side only strengthens that belief."

Sans's eye went blue, "Speakin' of which boss how're all these dignitaries you won't tell us about?"

Mario's posture remained confident even though his brow bristled.

"I haven't been keeping you anything. I've mostly been overseeing the accommodations and training of Smashcraft R. All of Ryu's friends are ready to go, as are the ones connected to Joker. King Mickey and Materia can summon reinforcements at any time, and all of our sister platform fighting federations are happy to help out if need be."

"And you're serious about recruiting some of them to the sixth Smash tournament?"

Mario nodded, "This is as close as we will ever get to unifying all the dimensions. Figuring out the Imagined Order's technology and using that to assist The Seven has opened up all the possible doors. The next, and quite frankly, only step is to unify them all under Smash City."

Marth dramatically placed his hand to his heart, "If the Hands could see you now they'd be extremely proud."

"Yes, of that I'm certain,"

"Okay," Sans huffed, "If we've got all that sappy crap out of the way, who's Team FUCKIT."

Mario stiffened, "Top secret I'm afraid."

"Top secret from the most in-the-know people here?"

"Yes," Mario answered, his tone firm and frustrated.

"You know, you've made a lot of executive calls, following the Hand's formula without telling us what exactly that is." Sans shouted just as firmly.

"Understand that Conker's people are completely incompetent-a," Mario shouted louder, "But in the case of a Subspace Emissary-grade event, the Dedede Broach protocol is active. This is the Hand's formula."

Sans' eyes widened in realization "Ah, that anti-trophy measure from years ago right?"

"Yeah. Something about this world makes it so that death manifests that way. But we have a secret weapon."

"That's gotta be the only helpful thing that penguin's done in his entire life," was Otis' snarky retort, Mikey squawking with laughter in agreement.

"Sonic said that as a joke once during the Brawl tournament. Kirby and Meta-Knight let him have it at length."

Marth laughed, "Oh Mario, that had to be one of the most comical things in Smash's history."

"Really?" Sans blurted, "The puffball got mad?"

"One of the only ways that you can make him mad is by insulting the people he's been in the trenches with longest, Dedede, MK, and Jigglypuff," Mario explained.

"I might have to try it sometime," Sans laughed with a wink.

"Illadvised," barked ROB, "Kirby is an alien of unknown origin, and unknown power."

"I know Robbie," protested Sans, "I was just joking. But yeah, if Kirby does recognize how powerful he is at some point we're all dead and there's nothing we can do about it."

Mario cleared his throat.

"The fact of the matter is," Mario began, "We have multiple layers of defense, even in an apocalyptic scenario, and this tournament is sharpening the battle skills of everyone in it. By the metrics that the Hands laid down, Smash Brothers is operating at its most efficient capacity since its inception as a peace-keeping force."

It was then that everyone looked at the big screen. Despite midnight creeping closer and closer. Dante and Vergil still clashed swords.

"Should somebody go tell them to wrap it up?" Mikey asked.

As if they'd heard them, both Dante and Vergil went into their Devil Trigger forms.

"Do you really wanna get in between that mess?"

Mikey shrunk in his seat, causing the rest of the administration team to laugh.

"No Sans, I don't," bashfully admitted the duck.

Sans winked, "I thought so."

"You're really surly today Sans," teased Shulk,
"Well, we're gonna beat the record today," Sans said, "And I've been working on that."

"What're you talking about?"

"It's a fourth wall thing."

Shulk rolled his eyes.

"Here I thought you were going off on one because Dante was actually doing his job, and Travis…"

Shulk's forehead wrinkled.

"Where has that bloke been anyway?"

"Travis is on assignment," Mario explained, "We've loaned Quinn out for some appearances outside of Smash, and Travis is a part of the package."

Sans laughed, "Me and a bunch of the guys have a skybox view to it tomorrow? You want in on this Gary Spivey?"

"Why do you keep calling me that?" asked Shulk.

"He's my favorite psychic from the Human world. Besides, you'd kill the silver afro look."

"First of all, not on your life, and second of all, Is it a sports thing?" Shulk asked.

"If you consider pro wrestling a sport yeah,"

Shulk shook his head, "Thanks but no thanks. Too many wankers try to use me as an almanac, even people I've told expressly not to."

Sans nodded, this time sadly, "Yeah. Ever since I told Asgore I was aware of all the timelines, he's been badgering me with all sorts of questions."

"Having young people in your army produces a similar effect," muttered Marth.

"So we've all had experience being assaulted with dumb questions," Mario concluded, "That is why I kept my cards close to my-a chest. I'm sorry if you all feel left out, but you are the people I trust most to oversee the day-to-day operations of the mansion. Leave the rest to me."

"Yeah, I'm sorry." Sans nodded, holding out a hand to shake.

Mario shook it, shocked when the clasp didn't end in the juvenile trumpeting of a whoopie cushion.

"No prank?" Mario asked.

Sans shook his head, "Nah, didn't feel right."

Mario laughed, "Alright, dismissed."

Sans immediately snapped his fingers, warping to the self-serve cafeteria heading up to the counter.

"Two helping of burg," Sans commanded.

"Absolutely Mister Sans," the Female Wire Frame said, "Coming right up,"

The hamburgers appeared, Sans taking his plate. As he headed to the sitting area, the basement door opened, Cloud, Dante, and Vergil heading up.

"Training hard, or hardly training?" laughed Sans.

Cloud simply grunted, heading up the staircase..

]"I was just gonna say you both have a chance to knock Sephiroth out of this thing."

Strife kept moving, where Dante smiled.

"Thanks man," he said, yawning, "I'm gonna hit the hay, been a long day."

"Oh I know," Sans shouted a little too loudly, "But hey, we got to the north end of 17,000 words, broke the record and all. Gonna grab a snack and go to bed..'

Dante waved, this time dismissively, "Whatever man, I'm just gonna head to bed." Now it was Dante's turn to head up the staircase, Vergil begrudgingly following behind.

"What's with you Devil Luigi," teased Sans, "No dorky quip?"

Vergil flipped him off as Dante snorted with laughter from a stair ahead.

"No worries, ya emo dork," Sans snapped, "We'll get to the record with or without you,"

Sans sat down, beginning to eat his burger, thumbing through videos on Smashtube.

"Why are all my recommended videos completely needless video essays? About notoriously weird fan comics too."

Sans thumbed through Smashtube. More video essays.

With that, he wolfed down his burgers.

"Nope," Sans shook his head, "I'm calling it now. Record be damned. You are not making me watch a video essay, ya Quartering-ass looking author."

With that, Sans snapped his fingers, teleporting to his room. The first sight he saw was Altair, his arms crossed.

"Geez Louise," Sans jumped, "I feel like I haven't seen you in a while. Where have you been?"

"Keeping to the shadows, as my training dictates, unlike yourself. I could hear you ranting about whatever nonsense goes through your head from all the way in here."

Sans shrugged, "It's a living," he concluded.

"What?"

"It's what you say when you need to get out of a comedic bit when you're a comedy savant like me."

Sans was silent for a second, gasping in realization, "Do you want to come to the wrestling thing with us tomorrow? We've got plenty of open seats."

"No," Altair said, "I've been summoned to an outing with some of the other assassins, and I must honor that request."

"Makes sense," said Sams, "Yeah, thank God we barely have to pay for anything, or else I'd be broke, taking the gang to all these events."

"I'm sure," Altair nodded sagely, "If you happen to speak to Quinn, tell him I said good luck, and that I expect him to win the battle."

Sans laughed, "I'm not gonna tell him that! You know how he gets,"

"That's where your instinct fails you Sans the Skeleton," Altair snapped, "Whatever training he is undertaking with the Street Fighter contingent is forging him into something sharper, more confident. He will take what I've said and use it to win,"

"Whatevver you say man, I'km going to bed."

Altair nodded, "That is for the best Sans,"

Sans shuffled to his room, immediately flopping onto his bed, these administrative meetings really took everything out of him.