Prologue
[Year 2031]
Mario sat heavily on his worn-out living room couch, the springs creaking beneath him. The dim light of a single lamp cast long shadows across the cluttered apartment, illuminating the dust that swirled lazily in the air. He adjusted the camera on his tripod, his fingers moving with a kind of weary familiarity. It had taken him a long time to convince himself to do this-to say the things he had buried so deep for far too long.
With a deep breath, he pressed record.
"It's been a few years since I've seen my brother," he began, his voice tinged with nostalgia and something heavier-regret. His gloved hands twisted together in his lap as he spoke. "We used to have such great times-stomping turtles, smashing blocks, saving the Mushroom Kingdom together. It wasn't always easy, you know. The whole kingdom depended on us." He let out a short chuckle, but it lacked warmth. "But somehow, it was simpler back then. We knew our roles. We knew what we had to do."
Mario sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He hadn't worn the red cap in a long time. It sat abandoned on a nearby shelf, its once-bright fabric faded with dust. "Super Mario ain't exactly so super without his little brother," he admitted, his voice quieter now. The words felt heavier than he expected. He hesitated, his eyes flickering toward the window where the city stretched out before him, glowing and endless.
"I just wish I would've been smart enough to realize that before I left everything behind." His voice wavered slightly. Outside, neon signs flickered, casting a dull red glow into the room. It wasn't the Mushroom Kingdom. It never would be. But this was his home now-wasn't it?
Mario's eyes lingered on the window, his mind lost in nostalgic memories. The laughter. The adventures. The feeling of knowing that, no matter how many times they were knocked down, Luigi would always be there to pick him back up. But now, there was only silence.
"The warp pipe that brought me here is destroyed," he murmured, his voice nearly lost in the hum of the city beyond the glass. "Just like the relationships I left behind when I went through it."
For a long moment, he just sat there, staring into the camera lens, as if willing his brother to somehow hear him across the vast distance between them. But there was no response. No familiar "Maaaariooo!" ringing through the air. Just the quiet, the loneliness, and the weight of choices made long ago.
Finally, with a quiet sigh, he reached forward and clicked the camera off. The red recording light vanished, leaving him in the dim glow of his apartment.