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For the regular eyes, Halcandra was only a dying land, another wretched place in the immenseness of the Dimensional Road, doomed to be forgotten by all. With its volcanic-type land, large mechanical scrapyard threatening to crumble or dangerous wildlife, it was no wonder why so many travelers had simply described with one word: “Hell”. To be fair, Halcandra really looked like the mythological purgatories described in ancients’ texts and various religions. As if Pandæmonium had break free from the twisted world of imagination to form itself in the vast nothingness.
Yet, it was home to the most beautiful sights that life could offer to Magolor. The giant lavafalls that flowed the landscape with no mercy or consideration for those who were on his way. The monumental megapolis that still rest proudly after thousands of years, its factories running aimlessly and androids patrolling relentlessly even after the disappearance of their masters. The burning planetoids that seemed to dance like fireflies near the world’s core. The numerous creatures that roamed the surface, each with their own extraordinary features, only exemplifying the law of might makes right. The frequent rain of ash mingling with the cloud-like industrial fumes that escaped from the various metal chimneys and the sweet smell of benzene similar to burning wood, being a spectacle to behold.
And don’t get him started on all of the ancient history and powerful technologies that were stock-still, hidden by a now long dead civilization, begging to be discovered.
And used.
The archeologist sighed as his eyes took in the scenery, looking one last time Halcandra as a mere mortal. Magolor had travelled to many planets in the span of the few years following his acquisition of the Lor Starcutter, yet none of them could compare in the slightest with the reddish floating island. It wasn’t that their landscapes weren’t pleasing to the eyes (a lot were gorgeous actually), they just appeared to him… dull, a bit boring maybe? He liked to believe that only one with enough sensibility (like himself) could truly appreciate Halcandra. This place may not have been his birthplace, but it had been his home for a longtime before he retreated the Lor from its sacred grounds. Halcandra had been a harsh teacher, showing him that in this universe, you could only count on yourself. Trust in other was useless and dangerous. And while Magolor had noted the benefits of manipulation, this land had taught him his life’s most valuable lesson:
It didn’t matter if you were strong or smart, rich or poor, cunning or kind. To be the master of his own destiny, one must stop at nothing to achieve his goal, no matter what good or evil is done, no matter the sacrifices.
Soon, the fruit of all of his hard work and careful planning will be in the palm of his paw as he becomes the undeniable ruler of all things. Magolor could feel a soft smile forming on his face at the thought.
A sudden unworldly roar tore him from his thoughts. His gaze quickly focused on the volcano's summit. The dimensional traveler could hardly perceive anything from all of the smoke and volcanic eruptions in its vicinity, but it was easy for him to guess that the last step of his masterplan had begun. The Four Heroes of Dream Land against the Four-Headed Guardian Angel. A battle that would have gone down in History if it were not to be eclipsed by his rise to power.
Landia was a formidable opponent (the magician had experienced it firsthand) and it was no wonder why the Ancients had tasked him to guard an extraordinary weapon such as the Master Crown. However, he believed that the odds were in his favor. He had secretly observed Kirby’s adventure. The pink puffball and his friends had defeated many mighty foes in his quest to help Magolor, and with what he had learned from one of Kirby’s older enemies, the trickster was sure that Team Kirby was more than a match for the dragon.
For what may have been many minutes (not that Magolor bothered to check the time, he wasn’t in a rush for he was enjoying view and reveling in his imminent victory) various explosions and screams could be heard from Haldera’s peak before fading to a sudden silence. Then nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing?
The mage’s anticipation slowly vanished before an inexplicable dread filled him. His first logical thought was one of the two opponents had fallen. At best, it was Landia, and the Halcadran will just need to sweep his prize in front of them. But if it was his friends…
Friends?
A weight appeared on Magolor’s abdomen. Why did it feel this way? Why had anxiety suddenly creeped on him? If his warriors had failed, even better for him! Landia would be surely weakened from his fight and the quartet of fools would not be able to stand up against him. They weren’t his friends. He had no friends. Only puppets that would obey him if his smile was wide enough,
if his little minigames were entertaining enough,
if he praised them enough,
if he looked desperate enough…
The sound of violence came back ten-fold from Landia’s lair, the sky now occasionally illuminates by various red and purple lightning strikes. Nevertheless, anxiety has still his claws dug deep into him and Magolor was at a loss of word to understand why. The hot wind seems harsher than usual… The cat-like alien retreated back to the Lor which hasn’t flown since its brutal landing caused by the four-headed reptile. Maybe it was time to supervise a lot closer how the plan unfolds. And ensure if his resources were still in good shape. Yes, they are only resources…
As soon as Magolor entered his home however, he felt that something was amiss. Not that someone had broken in the ship (he would have noticed and the Lor knew better than let in unwanted strangers). No, it was more about the vessel itself. He had only been welcomed by darkness, the Lor’s light being uncharacterized turned off. In addition to giving him the chills, Magolor was reminded of the only other time when he had seen them no being activated: the first time he had discovered the Lor, underneath Haldera.
“Lor, lights on, please”.
The request was left unanswered as the pitch-black darkness still plunged Magolor. It did nothing to ease his newfound stress. Using a little magic trick of his own, a small flame appeared in the palm of his right glove. Now seeing clearer, his next course of action was to approach the ship’s console in hope of figuring out the issue. He hadn’t even start typing that a holographic screen, no near as huge as the one who was displayed information about their final foe barely ten minutes before, appeared.
[NOTICE: USE OF THE LIGHTING SYSTEM DISADVISED]
“Why?” is all the captain could muster.
[STATUT: VESSEL AT 86% CAPACITY]
[CAUSE: ORGANISM LABELLED AS “Landia”]
[CONVERTING ALL UNNECESSARY POWER AVAILABLE TO SHIELD]
“Why?”, now he was dumbfounded. “You were fine when I exited ten minutes ago, why now? And turning why switching off lights when you’re clearly not in critical conditions ?!”
[WARNING: METEOROLOGY HAZARDS DETECTED]
[HIGHEST PRIORITY: CAPTAIN’S SAFETY]
[SECONDARY PRIORITY: VESSEL SELF-PRESENTATION]
Magolor really didn’t need this right now. The Lor had a habit to overprotect him, but this was just superfluous and impractical precautions. Victory was within reach. The life of his allies may be in danger. Allies? Hope that they will remain as such after all of this.
Kirby and his companions simply needed to listen to him. They will all see how he was right. The fate of the universe will be better in his hands. Magolor didn’t knew when their opinion had started to matter but he quickly pushed the question to the back of his mind.
He needed to calm himself.
His eyes fell on his favorite mug, in the Lor's colors and with an electric chip aesthetic, placed not far from the main computer. A gift from the Starcutter, at least that what he liked to think. He had received it when the ship had designated him as the new pilot. The “captain’s designated cup”. He was quite fond of it. Taking a quick sip to ease his nerves, Magolor immediately spit it out the moment the cold liquid touched his tongue.
Great. Just great. No time to refill it with hot milk, he had a world to conquer. Putting the container down, he leaned over the keyboard.
“It’s your captain speaking, turn the lights on and start the engines, we are going to Haldera Volcano’s summit.” The mage started to enter the coordinates to a place where he could land the most safely, the Lor taking strangely more time to perform than usually (to his annoyance). Immediately after entering the line of number, a new message popped up on the screen.
[WARNING: LOCATION REGISTERED AS HAZARDOUS]
[NOTICE: FLIGHT DISADVISED]
Sure, it wasn’t the first time that the Lor objected his requests. It had happened a lot in the past, when Magolor acted on a whim and travelled while taking avoidable risks. Lor’s refusals had always come from her desire to protect him, even if it was sometimes a bit unbearable for him. With time, a mutual trust had birth from their relationship, the two of them now having faith in each other's judgment. Because as much has everyone had looked down on her, seeing her only has another soulless machine made by ancient peoples, Magolor knew better.
He knew that deep inside all of the metal panels and flashy circuits, there was a heart. A heart mechanical yet majestic nonetheless. A mind, although made of number, functioning by electrical impulses just like his own. A voice that only asked to be heard, if maybe he took care of her well enough…
But now, she prevented him from helping his friends! The last words gave Magolor a weird feeling, like comforting his head despite worsening the nasty pain he had in his guts. Could their friendship hold past his incoming treason? Will they forgive him? He had a silver tongue; he could still persuade them to join him on his galactic conquest! The all mighty Magolor, “Overlord of the universe”, and his “Four Heroes of Dream”! Heh, they could be the new the Heroes of Yore.
... No.
It will never work.
Who could like a traitor? Who could love a being that had proven itself so weak that he had to rely on others to do his dirty work?
A perfect world was within his grasp… And he was stricken by indecision? Why? Why now? The fear for the lives of Kirby and the others, even now, hadn’t been distilled. That didn’t explain why he cared so much for them. Was it because they had him showed another perspective that he had never dare to imagine?
A world where kindness and love ruled?
A land where hope and dream existed, where no one experienced fear and anger, not because they didn’t know it but because living harmoniously was far greater than drenching their own thirst for power.
A place that was welcoming, that didn’t care about origins or scars, that only give and never take.
Dream Land.
Magolor knew of its existence long before the Lor had crashed there. A fabled paradise mentioned in the Book of legend that he had relegated as a simple fairy tale, and while its existence was later proven by the encounter of one of his inhabitants, he thought that the descriptions had been greatly exaggerated. In all of his short life, Magolor believed that he had never been this wrong about something. He still clung himself to the kingdom and its people. He had recalled his short stay on the star shaped planet. How Kirby, King Dedede, Meta Knight, and Bandana Dee had been so keen to land a hand whereas he was a perfect stranger, a nobody. The way the wind gently stroked his fur. The warm feeling of the sun, encouraging him to withdraw his hood even if he was normally so inclined to keep it as shut as possible. The nights were so fresh under the pale skin of the moon that he had been disposed to pass his insomnias stargazing, a hobby put aside long ago.
The magician remembered quite distinctly the childish curiosity on the voidling’s face each time that he had opened the door to a new minigame room, the somewhat amusing and charming personality of the king hidden beneath his imposing exterior, the long hours of discussion related the Ancients and their creations he had shared with the masked warrior, the braveness and loyalty to his friends that the spear wielding Dee had always showed.
He cannot lose them. Just as he cannot lose the Lor.
Is all of this really worth it? Years of meticulous planning, and on the last day, he really doubted himself? Magolor had found the “World of Peace” he has so desperately wanted to create. Is the Master Crown still necessary to fill the chasm in his soul?
Maybe, I can stop everything before it goes too far…
...
No.
He had passed this limit a long time ago. Perhaps, it was when he first learned about the crown in this dusty tome. Or when he had let himself be devoured by his own ambitions. When he had used the Lor against Halcandra’s guardian. When he had first lied to Kirby and his friends.
Magolor couldn’t go back in time. He had not right to. Things cannot be changed, even if they seal the future. He must stick to the plan. He needs to stick to the plan.
The mage hadn’t realized that his cheeks as gotten wet, making him registered that he had been lost in his thoughts for possibly several tens of seconds… or minutes. Wiping the tears from his golden eyes, he shrugged. He was being sloppy. Now was not the time to overthink. He should focus on the matters at hand to ensure his victory.
“This is a direct order from your captain: sail to the established coordinates as quickly as possible”. Magolor tried to not let his voice betrayed his feelings, without much success.
A loud buzzing noise assaulted his ears. The peaceful-like white light turning in an instant to red.
[SUBSTITUTION PILOT LOGGED OFF]
Magolor could swear he had felt his heart die for a second. Did he… Did the Lor had just logged him off? It could do that? Why?!
And “substitution pilot”? He recalled he was registered as such in the Lor’s database, but she had only used it during start of their relation. Magolor remembered fondly his first connection, the big “SUBSTITUTION PILOT FOUND” forever ingrained in his head. As weeks had passed, the ship had progressively referred simply to him as “PILOT” or just by his name. He couldn’t help but feel hurt, as the Lor reminded him that he was just a temporary aeronaut, he wasn’t her real captain.
Only a thieve tinkering with powers greater than him.
The Lor had been awfully quiet, not that it talk. She never did. But she had her ways through actions overlooked by most, that made Magolor think it was far more than a machine. Little touches that made him smile, like offering hot chocolate milk when he was overwhelmed or upset, proposing a little pause when he had so obviously overworked himself, transmitting little melody when he suffered from insomnias or nightmares. Magolor could swear that Lor’s wires were overflowing with empathy despite her often standard and simple actions.
The sorcerer knew that behind each of the ship’s measures, even if unrelated at first glance, there had always been an ulterior motive. And all of this didn’t add up. The light deactivation, the refusal to take off, his disconnection. It was crystal clear that the Lor didn’t want him to go to the top of Haldera and was actively making things hard for him.
Was she afraid that he got himself hurt?
The Lor know that I am no pushover. I know how to defend myself and with her at my sides I am near invincible. It's just a matter of eliminating an already exhausted Landia, I have done worst. The others surely haven’t caught wind of my deception yet, so no need to worry about them.
His brain operated like clogs in a machine, analyzing every possible explanation for his ship’s behavior, until one last consideration struck him. An idea that was so impossible that Magolor never had try to ponder about it. An underlaying impression that he had brushed off as one of his many intrusive thoughts, formed by his insecurities.
“Traitor” said the soon to be betrayer, his word tasting like dust in his mouth as the pit of hypocrisy swallowed him whole.
His accusation was met with a lack of responsiveness.
“Why ?!” In Void name, he was feeling stupid repeating the same question.
A simple text appeared, this time on a bigger hologram:
[HIGHEST PRIORITY: CAPTAIN’S SAFETY]
Then two others:
[SECONDARY PRIORITY: {4} SECONDARY PASSENGERS’ SAFETY]
[SECONDARY PRIORITY: VESSEL SELF-PRESENTATION]
Everything was starting to make sense now. The heavy encryption of some of the ancient’s artefacts in its database. The way the Lor had suffered such severe damages during his confrontation with Landia. How easily she had crashed down when returning to Halcandra. The fact that it didn’t want him to access the Master Crown’s location.
She had held information from him. She had hidden her true potential to prevent him from succeeding. She had let herself be destroyed in order to not be used by him for his scheme. She had been working against him since the beginning.
All this time, the Lor had been secretly trying to prevent him to obtain the Master Crown.
“You risked permanent deactivation, to let myself be stranded on Popstar… in hope to foil me?” Magolor didn’t knew who to turn his anger against: the ship or himself?
“>Yes”
To say that had Magolor had been taken back by such a simple word would be an understatement. He felt like his whole world had been crushed by three letters on a screen.
Never before had she addressed to him in such manner, communicating exclusively with lines of code or by simply assisting him in his maneuvers. He had even started to wonder if the Lor had even a mind of his own or he had just been projecting his need for companion by giving a will to a soulless vessel. Truth be told, Magolor would have been ecstatic about it this discovery, if it weren’t for the dramatic circumstances.
His hands grasped the cup again. He needed to hold it, but it didn’t give any warm: only a chilling sensation that ran through his gloves and straightened his fur.
“>Please understand that it was the only scenario that would have put an end to your ambitions and ensure your safety” continued the hologram.
“By abandoning me on Popstar?!”
His hands had still not loosened from the Lor themed mug. Magolor clung to it like it was the most precious thing in the entire universe. He hated how childish he must have looked in front of her.
“>By giving you a better life than the one you aspire to. One that you deserve. The path you are proceeding only lead to destruction.”
The mage didn’t speak. He couldn’t physically and psychologically. And to say what? Who was she to decided what he deserved or not?
“>Please reconsider your actions. For your sake and the universe’s.”
“The Master Crown will give me such a power that I will be immortal! I will no longer fear being powerless! And the rest of them too because I will protect them!” Magolor interjected. He could feel himself starting to ramble, like each time he was being a nervous wreck.
“>You do not deserve that kind of power. No one does.”
It broke. The handle had shattered in his hand, letting the rest of porcelain crashed to the ground in a dozen pieces. Its contents spilled onto the immaculate floor, spreading out in all directions. As Magolor floated, the milk didn't touch him, but it did affect the bottom of his cloak. A scarlet liquid began to mix with it. Droplets of blood were trickling from his hand, still firmly closed as pieces of the handle pierced his palm. The mage didn’t seem to care. In reality, he didn’t seem to be here at all. He was just staring into space, his mind far away from reality.
There was a pause. A few seconds, no more, but it felt like an eternity as the magician’s spirit crumbled. His ship, his partner, his only friend had truly communicated with him for the first time since years of companionship… to reveal that she had only seen him as a unworthy weakling since the beginning.
How easily I have been fooled.
“>I am sincerely sorry.”
Magolor wasn’t in control of his body. It didn’t feel like it, anyway. What he could feel however, is the electricity running through his flesh, his very bones. The tingling sensations in his finger’s tips. The warm emitted by the magic sphere he had just created. The hate inside of him that demanded to be expelled against those who had wronged him. The water that now flooded his sight, which was still fixed on the now only message that the giant screen displayed .
[HIGHEST PRIORITY: CAPTAIN’S SAFETY]
**********************************************************
After Magolor had entered the Lor Starcutter one last time before very long, he had exited the vessel his transformation complete, now only a shadow of his former self. The tears had disappeared, and his eyes had lost their sparks. His scarf raised and his hood lowered in a way that the feline features of his face were darkened. His already dying dream to share joy to all with theme parks now definitively gone as it was now insignificant next to the power to govern all. His movements far less graceful than before, he had slowly gone down the ship’s ramp.
Its only when he was now floating on the gravelly ground that he dared to look behind him. The Lor’s light were as bright at they could be, trying to be as loving as possible.
Magolor felt solely sickness.
Sickness because of her. And himself.
In truth, the mind shattering revelation just made him hollow at the moment.
He hadn’t had the strength to proceed with his threat. He couldn’t. He had been bested by an inanimate object, a true statement of his weakness. Not that he could kill the Lor anyway. She was lifeless. “It”, Magolor corrected himself. Destroying the ship would be no use to him anyway. In a few minutes, it will never refuse his orders again.
All of this is just some kind of test, Magolor tried to resonate.
His last obstacle to prove himself worthy of the Master Crown’s power. A king shouldn’t fall to attachment, especially to a servant just as soulless. His coronation was close at hand. No one should, or could, intervene.
A blast shook the planet, but Magolor didn’t lose balance. The battle had intensified at the top of Halcandra’s highest volcano. The end was near. The puppeteer watched as the smoke dispersed, four dragons now drawing circles over the combat zone before diving simultaneously.
Huh, that’s new.
Magolor lazily let himself float toward the titan of stone. Using his magic against some of the creatures one more time before it reached godly limit will be fun, he supposed. He knew the volcan like the back of his glove, he would reach the top in no time. No need of the Starcutter, the walk will give him more time to prepare his monologue. A newfound confidence now embracing him, his twisted mind drifted to more pleasant thoughts.
The legendary Landia will soon be no more. As for the Heroes of Dream Land… A small chuckle escaped him. No doubt that they will turn their back on him. But their protests wouldn’t be relevant. Nothing would.
They were only pawns upon a board. He will become a god. He will let them stranded in this hellhole. He will let them suffer just as he has suffered. They will starve, be desperate enough to eat the not so comestible fruits and creatures that roamed the land. They will hardly sleep, always scared to not survive the night. They will abandon all hopes knowing no one is going to magically rescue them, to save them from such undeserving fate. Kirby, Dedede, Meta Knight, Bandana Dee… let see how mighty you are when your so comfortable paradise is out of reach.
He will come back one day to save them just as they “saved him”. After what they had endured, they will follow him without questions. They will see his line of thinking and understand how it was right from him to ask for more than what life had given him.
Long gone will be the fear that lies in his heart, the terror that plagued his dreams and his awake moments, for he would not live a pointless life like so many had before him. And will, after him.
He will be transcending, overpowering, everlasting. This dimension, and the following ones, will know the divine right of king for he was above all.
As Magolor scaled the cliffs, dodging easily rock falls and lavafalls, the entirety of Halcandra surrendered to him. Funny how everything was so small up there. A pitiful little rock, forsaken in space now that he thought about it. His charm had worn off. The view had betrayed the planet, revealing it as more of a fade scar to him than a jewel fueling his will. The core of his new empire couldn’t be this pathetic.
The interdimensional traveler could even see the dimensions moving at the far reach of his vision. An infinity of possibilities. One appeared clearer than the others, however.
Planet Popstar, or the “World of Miracles” as it had been called by many, will be his. It will be his first conquest. The place where Magolor will sit in his throne, feeling the gentle breeze as the whole universe bowed down to him.
Those who had mocked him.
That obnoxious jester that thought so highly of himself.
Kirby and his friends.
The Lor.
In the end, Magolor only needed a crown to feel the respect and love he had so miserably craved.