Archive of Our Own ^beta

The entire place seemed to be lacking any colour, reflecting Lucas’s mood in different shades of grey.

It had all happened so fast. When he had received the invitation to join the brawls (he had no choice but to accept it) and had been transported to the Smash Mansion, he had found himself being pitted against warriors, from, as it seemed, different planets and galaxies. They all had different skills that matched his own PSI powers, as he had realised from fighting a few of the beings whom had arrived at the Mansion. He had even met someone called ‘Ness’ who was from the same planet as he was and who also sported PSI powers, although Ness was very outspoken and cheerful whereas Lucas was quite reserved and shy and didn’t smile much anymore.

Not after he had lost his brother, Claus.

And these recent events that had been happening, only three weeks after he had been transported there. The Brawl stadium had been in use when a ginormous battleship had arrived, accompanied by thick purple smoke which obscured all the lights and the cameras, and the TV which all of the Brawlers had been watching the action had gone static. The Brawlers that had been fighting in the stadium at the time, Kirby (an adorable little puffball who could copy anyone’s special abilities by practically eating them) and Mario (a seemingly popular Italian plumber who was somehow also an expert fighter), were nowhere to be found.

Lucas, amidst all of the confusion and chaos, had been transported to this place and he had no idea why. What in the world was going on?

The young boy shook his head, trying to shake the pessimistic thoughts out of his head, and focusing ahead on this place that he somehow knew was called ‘The Ruined Zoo’. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was frightened. It was unusually quiet, save for a tingling breeze. The scenery in front of him was desolate and dismal: someone had completely destroyed it.

He kicked a tin can out of the way, his arms wrapped around his torso and his eyes swiftly darting towards his left and right.

A small whoosh sounded from behind him, and his PSI abilities immediately flared up a warning in his head that danger was nearby. “W-who’s t-there?” He whispered, his voice coming out high and squeaky.

He warily looked behind him to see a purple orb with a dark centre float down. Fear began to betray him and take over his body in the form of a shiver when he saw more of those orbs encircle him and mould together to form robotic figures, which began to edge towards him like zombies in a cemetery.

“No, n-n-no…!” He shook in terror. He was completely surrounded.

A huge BANG echoed behind him, blowing dust in every direction, making Lucas jump violently into the air and screamed in alarm, spinning his head around behind him to see what had made that noise.

It was a giant stone statue that was in the shape of a face he didn’t think he would see again.

It was Porky. The one who was in charge of the Drago cyborg that had killed his mother. The one who had brainwashed his brother, forcing Lucas to fight him. He had to watch Claus kill himself in front of him to rid himself from a fate that wasn’t his fault. It was all Porky’s fault.

Trying to think straight, he attempted to use his PK Fire ability against the giant stone mech, but it simply fizzled and died against the monster. This thing was completely immune to PSI, and Porky had made sure of that. Lucas’ eyes were wide with fear, and he had no choice but to run for it. His breath shuddered and rasped as he turned tail.

He raced through the barren atmosphere and tried a few PK abilities against the thing while at it, but with no luck. Lucas knew there was absolutely no chance of escape this time. Porky had come to commit his revenge, somehow, in this strange place he had been teleported to. He had probably ached with bloodlust and he would eliminate Lucas as soon as he got the chance.

The massive statue lunged, and Lucas dodged, shouting for anyone, anyone who might be listening. He wasn’t sure how long he could run for, until he tripped and fell, his leg trapped in a root that was growing out of the ground.

“NO! SOMEONE HELP ME!” He tried to force his leg out of the branch as the statue edged towards him in pounding footsteps, preparing to trample him. Maybe he should just give up.

No.

He would not give up, for his brother or mother.

But they’re dead, fool. His past seemed to whisper. They never gave up and look what happened to them. Your so called ‘friends’. Kumatora. Duster. They will never understand...

Lucas wanted to just break down and cry, right there on the spot. He barely heard the statue behind him. He bent his head, shaking, accepting his fate. The more frightened Lucas was, the less his PK powers worked, and that was why he was helpless right now. It seemed Destiny had planned for his death to be in this foreign galaxy or wherever he was, wallowing in his past failures. At least he would see them again soon.

Ssssshhhhhink!

The foot of the monster didn’t land.

Something almost as tall as he was and a cobalt blue with huge, leathery, purple bat wings was standing in front of him, pushing its spiked, golden sword up against the sole of the statue’s feet so it couldn’t step on Lucas. The figure looked like it was struggling, but its sword began to charge up with golden light, and there was a gigantic blast as the figure released the beam of energy with a mighty roar, flapping its wings and shooting up into the air as the statue slammed onto the floor.

Lucas could make out the rest of the figure’s prominent features: the silver mask, the polished gauntlets, shoes and shoulder guards, the white collar, and the burning yellow eyes that shone with purpose through his mask. He watched in awe as the masked figure nosedived towards the centre of the monster, somersaulted in the air and brought his sword slicing at the monster’s centre with a growl. The hit seemed to absorb into statue’s core.

It was then he remembered the name of this being – he was also present at the Smash mansion.

This was Meta Knight, the swordsman who was not to be underestimated by his stature, as some Brawlers had done so and had not stood a chance. In the three weeks that had passed, he had gained a formidable reputation for being arguably the most skilled fighter out of all of them. Even so, Lucas didn’t really see him around the Mansion much. For a small blue puffball he was somehow very intimidating.

Meta Knight jumped off the statue and in front of Lucas, shielding him with his purple wings as the statue exploded, bits of rock flying everywhere, and from the midst of the smoke and dust, a spider-like machine appeared, encasing a familiar figure which Lucas dreaded.

The masked warrior in front of him outstretched his arm containing his sword in a challenge towards Porky. “Run, child!” He growled at him, taking on a fighting stance.

Lucas was cut out of his daze at the sound of Meta Knight’s deep, powerful voice. He gritted his teeth. His fear was familiar to him, and despite it, he would help the warrior fight Porky. It wasn’t fair, to just abandon him. He had just saved his life.

“N-no.” He wrenched his foot out of the branch and stood next to the knight. If he ran, he would become a coward. “I-I’ve fought him before, sir, and now I won’t run from a fight!” He shut his eyes, sparks flashing between his fingers. Meta Knight's appearance had given him much-needed confidence, and now, due to the stone casing being broken off, Porky was more vulnerable. If he could beat him once, he could beat him again. “I know his weak spots, let me help you!”

The swordsman stared at him in momentary shock at this sudden transformation, but he bent his head in acknowledgement. He knew what Lucas was capable of due to watching him fight in the Smash tournaments. “Very well.” His wings morphed into a flowing purple cape with a shadow of a bat emblazoned onto it. “Let us fight together.”

Much to Lucas’s disbelief, they had fought Porky... and won. Meta Knight was truly a formidable ally, and it made Lucas feel a bit insignificant even though they both did more or less the same amount of damage to him.

Not even allowing Lucas to breathe in relief after they had watched the machine encasing Porky explode, Meta Knight had unfurled his wings and taken to the skies, carrying Lucas in his arms, immediately taking shelter within an indoor centre of the Ruined Zoo, which looked like it had been abandoned for years. He had told him to wait there before unfurling his majestic wings and taking off into the sunset in a glide, probably to scan the surrounding areas for any potential danger.

It had been about fifteen minutes since Meta Knight had left, and Lucas stared at the serene sky, and looked down at his knees, allowing the humid air to blow through his yellow-blond hair. He wanted to feel optimistic. He wanted to be able to convince himself that everything would be okay, that he had perhaps not failed his mother and brother and that it wasn’t his fault. But every time he felt this way and things seemed to get better, something tragic happened. It was almost like a curse.

His thoughts wandered to Sir Meta Knight, who was nowhere in sight. What was he hiding behind that mask? Why was he so secretive, so unwilling to make friends at the Mansion? Or more trivially, how did he fit those massive wings under that cape?

Lucas felt his throat swell painfully. Those wings reminded him so much of him. No, he would not cry at that thought: he was stronger then this and he had made a promise to himself that he would stay that way for his brother.

'I hope we meet again someday', he says... as he lay... he lay dying, and with those tears dripping down his face, ginger hair in many different directions, caked with blood... 

"It is ironic," An unexpectedly rich voice came, gently accented with a foreign dialect. “How a ruined landscape can be so beautiful.”

Almost jumping out of his skin at the voice, Lucas turned around to see the masked swordsman approaching him from behind, his cape wrapped around his round body. His aura was no-nonsense and commanding, and admittedly made him slightly uncomfortable. Not mentioning how he had managed to sneak up on Lucas when he had been looking to the sky the entire time.

Oh yeah. He can teleport.

"Y-You scared me." Lucas rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He watched as the knight perched himself next to him, his armour clinking and his golden eyes shimmering with something he did not understand.

"My greatest apologies." He faced him and bowed deeply. "You are the young PSI master Lucas, the warrior with psychic powers, if I’m not mistaken?"

"Um, yeah." He blushed in embarrassment at his formality and his glorifying statement. He had never spoken to Meta Knight like this before – usually it was at the respectful distance that he liked to keep with all of the Smashers – and already he was turning out to be… well, polite was an understatement. "I'm not a warrior, though. A warrior is someone brave, or strong. Like you." Lucas internally cringed at that statement. It sounded feeble to him, like an amateur student turning sparkled eyes to their mentor, even though he meant it.

"I digress." He turned away, his eyes brightening. "You may see yourself as not 'brave or strong', but I’m truly honoured to be in the presence of a fighter as yourself. You fight as well as I." His eyes were downcast with thoughtfulness. “As you clearly demonstrated today.”

Lucas didn't really know what to say to that, confused as to why he was being thought so highly of by this formidable war veteran. "S-Sir Meta Knight. You are Meta Knight, right?" Lucas says shyly to the warrior with a dutiful undertone. "Um, t-thanks for saving me. You really... uh.... you're really good. I appreciate it." He found it difficult to form his words, as if his mouth did not want to reflect his thankfulness. Not that he didn't mean them, but from what he had seen on the battlefield, and from his appearance, Meta Knight’s presence was incredibly overwhelming for a small blue puffball. And he wasn't good with words anyway.

"I am he." He spoke. "And there is no need to thank me, young PSI master." He stood next to him half a metre away. "As a Knight, it is my duty to go by my code of honour and protect the innocent in any way that is necessary."

The boy blushed further. "Sir Meta Knight, you don't have to call me 'young PSI master'." I'm hardly worthy of that title. "You can just call me Lucas."

The warrior bowed once more in his formal manner. "Lucas, then. As you wish."

An awkward silence passed. Meta Knight sighed gently, completely oblivious to the raging thoughts within Lucas's mind. My mother, would also be eternally grateful that you saved me, Lucas mentally told the warrior. And Claus as well. You saved me from death, Meta Knight. And yet you call me a warrior, as I'm unable to protect myself. You even look a bit like my brother too. The 'Masked Man', right? He had a mask, you have a mask, and those wings... those bat-like wings...

"Is everything the matter?" Meta Knight spoke, now fully turning to look at him.

Lucas hadn't noticed the tears that had begun to fall down his cheeks. He hadn’t wanted to cry in front of this seasoned soldier, but his childish willpower denied him that.

"It's just y-you remind me of s-someone." Lucas sniffled, wiping his eyes. "I don't really want to talk about it." Liar, you filthy liar, you want to talk about how your mother lay dying and how you watched your brother die, how you were powerless to save them.

"That is understandable." Meta Knight answers with a tone entirely devoid of emotion. The tone even seemed nonchalant and that made Lucas's insides boil unexpectedly.

"No, you don't understand." Lucas's voice heightened. "He was my brother. He…"

He faltered when Meta Knight turned to him in surprise at this sudden revelation, leading him to realise what he had just revealed. The deaths of his relatives were something he had wanted to keep a secret in the fear of everyone seeing him as weak, but now he didn't really know or care what he was saying, since he had just uncovered one of his biggest secrets. "He was g-going to try and take revenge on the c-cyborg that had killed my mother three years ago." His body shook from unshed tears. "He got captured instead... he was brainwashed a-and turned into a chimera and got wings that look like yours and I..." He let out a choked sob, not facing the masked warrior.

When Meta Knight didn't react in any way, Lucas suddenly snapped, but it was not directed at Meta Knight. He was angry at himself and at his mistakes. He could have stopped Claus from getting hurt: his friend Wess blamed him, and he knew from the way his father had looked at him during the visit to his mother’s grave that he blamed him, too, even though he would never admit it out loud. "I was forced to fight him, Meta Knight, to kill him! But I couldn't, and because of that, h-he ended up killing himself, to do the job that I never could. I'm not a warrior so don't call me that! I'm weak and always have been! My mother and brother are dead because of me!" He was fully sobbing now, breath hitching with every word, the unfathomable weight of guilt he carried from three years ago releasing its beast into his words.

"I understand. They even call me ‘The Lone Swordsman’."

"W-What?" Lucas stuttered hoarsely, whipping his head around as Meta Knight unexpectedly spoke in a voice as calm as ever, but so very, very low and passionately compelled. He was shocked to notice that his eyes had changed colour from their usual lamp-like yellow, and were now swirling with a dull, cold silver.

"I am known by many names from the galaxy where I am from." Meta Knight's rumbling voice was as emotionless as ever, but Lucas swore he heard his voice crack for a second, losing its vigour for a heavy moment and his eyes flashing a solid grey. "But that title is what my allies and enemies have referred to me as for over a thousand years."

Lucas felt his anger from earlier completely drain away. Why was he telling him this? Why-

Then it dawned on him. Lone.

Lucas wasn't the only one who had lost someone dear to them. His words had touched something within Meta Knight. Perhaps an emotion, or a stray memory, that he tried so hard to obscure its existence by using his typical stoic and mysterious composure.

“Life is cruel to many of us.” Meta Knight continues with a hint of a growl not directed to him. He unsheathes his glimmering sword in a shink of metal, runs a gloved hand over its edge and stabs it in the ground in front of him, making Lucas recoil. The old warrior's body began to subtly quiver. “Soon enough, you’ll learn to live with that fact. Nonetheless, to learn that fact at such a young age is a terrible and tragic curse no one should be fated to.” His eyes suddenly flashed a blood red for a millisecond, then they shut immediately after, but that was enough for the shivers to race up the young boy’s spine.

Lucas was rendered speechless at those words, his heart breaking at the passion and relatability of those words. He didn’t want to envision what Meta Knight had been through. He felt so ashamed and the contempt against himself that he possessed grew, tugging at his heartstrings. At the moment, he wished that he would take back everything he had just said to him, because he knew he had brought back painful memories from Meta Knight's enigmatic past.

He was horrified to find that when he tried get a glimpse of Meta Knight's feelings using his psychic powers, he was overwhelmed by the guilt, the anger, the turmoil, the pain, the emptiness, the isolation that were raging within the warrior.

The warrior may have a talent for keeping his cool in any situation, but saying that Meta Knight was emotionless couldn't be further from the truth.

He bristled. "Tearful remorse is a sentiment long foreign to me, and those painful memories were always present." Meta Knight turned to look at him, his eyes still that amalgam of silver and yellow. He pulls out the sword from the ground and sheaths it once more. "Beings are born, they live, they fight, they die. I’ve seen this many times, and not just because my species is cursed with almost a permanence of age."

Lucas fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt, shivering not of the cold. He just couldn’t meet those eyes anymore after that flash of malevolent red. "W-what do you mean?" He asks in a small voice.

Meta Knight's piercing eyes slowly faded back to yellow. "To put it simply, I am..." He hesitated for a millisecond. "I am many thousands years old, and my existence has been solely a constant battle in many ways for as long as I can remember."

Over a thousand years. Lucas couldn't even begin to imagine living with mental scars from war for that long. Meta Knight had mentioned earlier that he had been referred to by his title for over a thousand years, but Lucas hadn't fully comprehended he was being literal. The boy still had awful nightmares that derived from his previous battles, so he couldn’t even begin to imagine what nightmares stormed Meta Knight’s head from all the years that he had lived.

The memories never leave you, do they?

Lucas shook his head, eyes burning. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. You’ve… you’ve suffered a lot—”

The swordsman interrupted Lucas’ sentence with an almost animalistic growl, making him recoil with wide, startled eyes. “Do not waste your time with feeling pity for me.” His tone was almost spiteful, like a crack had suddenly appeared in his silent exterior.

The boy’s dark gaze blurred with tears. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have shouted at you, it just kind of slipped out, I…”

Meta Knight felt strangely guilty, the knot of anger within him loosening. My reminiscences have hurt him. “Child… Lucas… I must apologise, I did not mean to lash out as such. That was dishonourable to you as well as your losses.” Meta Knight's tone was now softer, taking on an almost gentle quality as he watched Lucas shake, clutching his head with tears rolling down his cheeks and his teeth gritted. Meta Knight knew that he had perhaps been a bit too harsh with words to the child. After all, he was very young, probably around twelve or thirteen, almost as young as Kirby. The difference was, Kirby had never had to deal with loss, and he would never be so unfeeling in speech with the baby puffball even if that were so.

Sir Meta Knight, contrary to everyone's beliefs, also struggled with loss: but instead of displaying remorse through crying he often resorted to a form of extremism that caused him to isolate himself from the world as much as possible - taking his turmoil out on other people in sudden outbursts of anger.

Now, this child was in a state that screamed at him for comfort. Even though he hated close contact and that he wasn't one with words, he would do it this once to comfort this young fighter whose innocence had been taken away so early in his life. He pitied him in that he had been forced to mature early and not enjoy his childhood at a steady pace like other youths. Meta Knight understood. For all his life, all he knew was suffering, and it was evident memories of past events lingered from his erratic and constantly anxious behaviour.

Awkwardly, Meta Knight moved closer until his right shoulder guard was almost touching Lucas's side, and unfurled a wing for it to rest comfortingly on his back in what he hoped was a tender manner. Lucas froze at the contact and flinched, but did not look up.

"Take deep breaths and calm yourself, young one. Wallowing in your sorrow will only intensify it."

Lucas did so, bowing his head shamefully, although his facial expression seemed to relax slightly. "It’s my fault. I hurt you too, I'm so sorry." It's like he's there, like Claus is here, wrapping his mechanical wings around me... please don't go away.

"Don't be." The knight speaks, his impossibly deep voice filled with ancient wisdom. "I want you to be aware that I do understand your sorrow, and in the future to not be hesitant to reveal your emotions in front of me as you did now. That is all."