Chapter Text
It was a dark and stormy night.
Well, actually, it was more overcast.
Nevertheless, lightning flashed through the skies, casting jagged shadows over the inhabitants of Castle Dedede’s throne room. In the back of his mind, Escargoon remembered a faint rumor about the spirit of Kracko still appearing in the skies some nights, seeking revenge. He didn’t really believe it, but the thought contributed to the slowly-building sense of dread within him.
Beside him, the look of anticipation on King Dedede was illuminated by the intense sparks of their NME™ Monster Transporter.
“I think you’ll be very impressed, Triple D.” Said the gray-faced NME Salesman on the screen before them. “This is one of our finest monsters. A classic, updated to make even more trouble than before! Your little Star Warrior problem should be solved in a snap.” He brought the heels of his hands to each other and, at “snap,” clapped his palms together.
A form began to materialize from the electric blast of the teleporter.
“Let me introduce you to one of our most ferocious monsters, the fiery fang…” he gestured dramatically, “Wolfwrath.”
Dedede and Escargoon huddled together in anticipation as their monster appeared— hunched, furry, with pointed claws and even pointed-ier teeth, and the pointed-iest spines along its back. Its ominous red fur and white mane flowed as the sparks died down, their last reflections in the yellow crystal on the beast’s forehead dimly highlighting its ferocious expression.
Then, just as suddenly as it was summoned, it blew a fireball out of its mouth into the wall in front of it, firing it through the king and his advisor like a ball through very unprepared bowling pins. Once it made its path, it leapt off the platform and sprinted out of the throne room through the new hole in the wall.
“Hey!” Escargoon cried. “What was that all about!?”
“Oh, well, ya see,” Customer Service replied, “we’ve always had a bit of an issue taming Wolfwrath. He doesn’t take too well to training.”
“What!?” Dedede bellowed. “You mean it’d attack me?”
Customer Service only chuckled.
Cod dangit! Dedede thought. How could this happen!? There was no way that them Night Mare Enterprises goons could outsmart his superior intellectance!
But everyone had their off days, he supposed.
Quick as a penguin, he rushed to his throne and pushed the buttons on its arm to activate the castle-wide alarm and intercom system.
“Sire, are you intending to lock down the castle?” Escargoon cried.
“‘Course I am!” Dedede replied. “We gotta make sure that monster gets its sights on Kirby!”
“By locking it in here with us!? ”
That question went without an answer.
/*|*\
Sword Knight and Blade Knight, vassals of the great Sir Meta Knight, walked through the halls of the castle, as they were wont to do.
Just as they were about to turn a corner, an alarm rang out through the castle.
“Attention!” Boomed the voice of their king. “Be on the lookout for an escaped monster! Don’t let it get away!”
“Hrn?” Sword Knight said. “A monster? We better get to Sir Meta Knight before-”
As if on cue, the hulking form of Wolfwrath rushed into their path, causing them to draw their sword (and also their blade) on instinct. Sword and Blade shared an intense stare with the beast, memories rushing to the forefront.
“Wolfwrath…” Blade muttered.
“Now we really ‘ave to tell Meta Knight.” Sword said.
It seemed that Wolfwrath was experiencing memories of its own as it lunged forward, snapping its jaws in an attempt to catch one of the knights.
They jumped back, and Sword responded with a lunge of his own.
The blade clanged across the gem in Wolfwrath’s head and caught on the corner of its muzzle.
Taking advantage Sword’s temporarily vulnerable position, Wolfwrath surged forward, jaws open. It left a scratch on Sword’s armor, but couldn’t get farther before Blade threw his shoulder and the flat of his blade into its face, forcing it onto its hind legs and giving the knights time to reassume position.
Sensing its disadvantage, Wolfwrath snarled and gathered fire into its mouth, sending a ball of flame at its opponents before they could advance.
Undeterred, Sword and Blade strafed to avoid the flame and tried to launch an attack, prompting Wolfwrath to fire several more shots at the wall supports beside them.
The walls on either side crumbled, causing part of the ceiling to cave as well.
Sword and Blade stumbled back just in time to avoid being crushed, but through the dust they saw the silhouette of Wolfwrath dashing down the perpendicular hallway.
They scrambled over the rubble in an attempt to catch up, but by the time they got into the hall, the monster was no longer in sight.
“...To Meta Knight, then…?” Sword asked, looking to Blade.
Blade nodded and grunted.
Hesitantly, the duo set off.
/*|*\
Chef Waddle Dee had a very important job.
It was well-settled in the lore of the Kingdom of Dreamland that the preparation and eating of food was of the greatest importance. At any and all hours, the kitchen was to be kept clean, full, and running. As such, the kitchen was constantly, diligently tended by a rich line of Chef Waddle Dees, going back across generations of dees who happened to be wearing the chef’s hat at any given time.
Even during times of crisis, the kitchen remained running. In fact, it was to run especially in such times, as it was well-known that the Great King Dedede was a nervous eater, and it was equally well-known that crisis made him especially nervous.
It was therefore reasonable that Chef Waddle Dee and their bevvy of sous chefs, themselves part of a long line of dees who happened to be working in the kitchen at any given time, were working tirelessly to prepare an extravagant meal for their king, and maybe also the king’s advisor if he was fast enough.
“C’mon now, chop chop!” Commanded the imposing Captain Doo, tapping the blunt edge of his sword against the stone doorway. “The king’s expectin’ a three-course meal within the hour! It’s the only way he can lead us through this emoi-gency!”
With each platter filled, the dutiful waddle dees lined up single-file, marching out of the kitchen on the cue of their captain. As the last server left, Captain Doo addressed the last remaining dee with a point of his sword.
“Chef!” He said. “Hang back and keep tidy. You’re gonna wanna leave the burners on. By the sounds of it, this situation could last us a while.”
Chef Waddle Dee saluted with the ladle in his hand, soliciting a nod from their captain before he turned away and joined the rear of the serving line.
Once they’d left, Chef Waddle Dee turned and set to the tasks to which they’d been ordered, washing dishes that were lightly soiled, putting more roughly-used ones in another basin to soak. Once they moved the scraps from the prep counter into the compost bin, they turned back to the stove to set the burners to low heat.
As they turned the knobs, they heard a sound behind them, something like a low growl.
They turned, but saw nothing.
“...Wanya…?” They called into the empty space.
There was no answer.
Chef Waddle Dee mentally calculated the distance from the throne room to the kitchen. And then they did it again. Neither time did they come up with a number that soothed them.
Waddle dees, as a species, were social creatures. In a group they could keep warm, seek comfort, and come together to crush (oftentimes literally) those who would seek to do them harm.
Chef Waddle Dee, alone, frightened, facing a large kitchen containing many, many sharp objects and heavy things, shivered.
Eventually, they stepped away from the stove, taking tight hold of the ladle as they went to finished cleaning the heavily-used dishes.
The moment they put their mitts in the water, they heard the sound again.
It was much louder, much deeper, much closer.
They started to cry out again, but the sound died in their throat, along with their courage to move.
CRASH.
The sound was so deafening that for a moment Chef Waddle Dee could hear only ringing, processing any other sounds through one ear at a time.
Out of their left ear, they heard the falling of a shelf and the scattering of cookware and dishes, then more ringing.
Out of their right, they heard a loud snarl and the distinct sound of metal and stone being crushed.
Was this presence…eating the stove?
It couldn’t do that! Chef Waddle Dee needed that to cook for the king!
They whirled around, the water that had gathered in the spoon of the ladle whipping across the kitchen.
There was, indeed, a creature with its jaws around the stove, small fires erupting around the creases as its teeth pierced a gas line.
It scarcely had time to begin consuming its meal, however, before it was splattered with blobs of water. It yelped as the liquid almost instantly turned to steam against its fur, then it released the stove to set its eyes on a new target, teeth bared.
The fur on Chef Waddle Dee puffed involuntarily, a common fear response meant to generate static for clinging to dees who were not and would not be there. The ringing in their ears began to subside, filling instead with the snarl of the monster before them.
“Wanya!” They cried, their voice high, breaking. “Wanyawanyawanya!!”
As much as they’d hoped that their distress call would alert somedee, anydee that may have been roaming the halls, that hope was simply not enough to summon one there.
They found themselves at a loss. They were a chef, a chef! They didn’t have the skills to defend themselves against a monster!
They’d need a bandana for that!
The only thing that they could think to do as Wolfwrath approached them was scoop more water into their ladle and throw.
Stunningly, the creature howled and stumbled back when the water hit its face.
Was that it? Was that the secret to cooking and/or guarding and/or doing some other job another day? They didn’t have the luxury of time to contemplate any further, desperately scooping water and lobbing it at Wolfwrath, deterring it even as it tried to advance.
Once they’d gained themselves enough space, Chef Waddle Dee set their thoughts on the door. It was in splinters, meaning that all they had to do was run, and they would be free. With one last mighty splash, Chef Waddle Dee leapt off of the stepstool they used to reach the sink and rushed for the door.
Despite the lack of legs, the dee managed an impressive speed, the doorway to salvation growing larger and more welcoming by the second. What was much less welcoming, however, was the well-oiled sheet pan that had been knocked to the ground earlier, which Chef Waddle Dee stepped on and then, with its assistance, fell face-first onto the ground.
They recovered and looked up just in time to see Wolfwrath bounding toward them.
They squeaked, unable to even form the single word that comprised the entirety of Waddlese as they feebly pointed their ladle at the monster.
Undeterred and furious, Wolfwrath opened its maw, consuming the entire length of the ladle and clamping its jaws around the dee's little arm. They cried out on instinct, but found with confusion that the bite didn't actually hurt. If anything, they felt only pressure where one of Wolfwrath's fangs sunk in.
They hardly had time to process this before Wolfwrath began violently shaking them, apparently regarding them more as a chew toy than prey. Once it had its fill of this, it tossed them aside and turned back to the stove.
Chef Waddle Dee hit the wall and then the floor, uninjured thanks to its puffed fur and natural bounciness. Dazed, they turned their head toward the back of the kitchen.
By now, the stove was more of an inferno than an appliance. The flames outshone the kitchen lights, sending brilliant flickers of orange onto the walls. The wavering shadow of Wolfwrath imposed among them as the creature itself approached the fireball. It opened its mouth wide and inhaled.
Chef Waddle Dee furrowed their nonexistent brow, unsure whether they were seeing things as the creature began sucking up the fire. It was as if it were dining on a fine spaghetti, and also the spaghetti was made of pure flame.
Wolfwrath continued feasting until the blaze went dark, sighing as it looked around and then, finally, busted through the overhead vent in the wall, exiting the kitchen.
Chef Waddle Dee chittered wearily as it pushed itself off the ground. Now that that was all over, they had a job to do. They were Chef Waddle Dee, after all, so they had to do chef things.
The fire was out. Did that mean that the oven and stove were broken…? Uh oh. That was bad. They had to cook. Because they were Chef Waddle Dee, and that was their job.
There was an emergency, and they had to use the stove…to cook. To be a chef.
They stumbled toward the remains of the stove, limbs suddenly very heavy.
They were wearing the hat and…and everything. They had to go do chef things, because…because that was what they hat…had…to do…
The numbness started at the soles of their feet, spreading before they could register the sensation. They fell into a sitting position.
They had to do the chef thing…as the chef. Captain Doo…told them…to keep the burner on…he had to…turn on…to turn on…to turn…
They began to find it more and more difficult to keep themselves up.
They had to…cook…
An intense heat started to replace the numbness that was now encroaching on their arms.
…for their king…
The ladle clanged to the ground.
/*|*\
Despite being outdoors and theoretically allowing for any creature with, say, large claws to scale a wall on the inside of the castle over to a wall outside of it, the courtyard of Castle Dedede was perfectly accessible during the lockdown.
Despite being fully aware that there was a monster on the loose that was so dangerous that it required an emergency lockdown and active man…monster?...hunt, the Prime Minister and his wife were more than content to let their son Tuff and their adopted Star Warrior Kirby play Unsupervised Ball in the courtyard.
This particular run of the game had Kirby feeling quite proud of himself. The little sphere-shaped warrior was frequently confused for the ball whenever he played with Tuff, so it felt like an incredible achievement to be the one in control of the actual ball instead.
“C’mon, Kirby! Do an ultimate move!” Tuff called, confident that this was an official sports term.
“Poyo!” Kirby cried excitedly.
He kicked the ball up high and, taking in a small amount of air to give him more height, jumped up to meet it with his head. Just as he’d seen the other children do, Kirby bounced the ball off of his head, directing it toward Tuff.
“Yeah!!” Tuff cried, pumping his arms in the air as he intercepted the ball on his chest.
The ball landed on the ground in perfect goal-kicking position.
“He shoots…” Tuff mumbled, kicking the ball toward the goal net nearby, “HE SCOR-!”
No sooner did the ball start flying through the air than a creature rushed into view, biting into and popping it. The creature— big, growling, with red fur and spikes along its back— dropped the lifeless rubber on the ground
“Wh-what the…?” Tuff said, backing away. Then, what he was seeing clicked in his mind. “That… that’s the monster!”
Said monster locked eyes with Kirby, who’d just landed in front of it with a confused expression.
“Poyo…?” He asked, touching a curious mitt to his face.
“Kirby, this is the monster Dedede was yellin’ about! Get out of the w-!”
Before Tuff could finish his warning, the monster reared up on its hind legs and shot a fireball out of its mouth, making direct contact with Kirby and blasting him back against the fountain behind him.
“Kirby, no!” Tuff cried, unable to do much more than that as the monster barreled toward Kirby, jaws wide open.
Before it could finish off its prey, however, it was intercepted by a figure who dashed through the waters of the fountain, blinding it with the light of the golden weapon that they used to hit it in the face.
When its vision recovered, the creature witnessed the form of its opponent— the stout but imposing Sir Meta Knight, vassal of THE King Dedede, navy cape flowing behind him, incredibly cool-looking six-pronged sword in his right hand, silver mask glinting in the moonlight.
Tuff, assured by the presence of Meta Knight, ran behind him to tend to his friend.
“Kirby, are you okay…?” He asked, helping him right himself.
Meta Knight locked gazes with the monster, waiting for it to flinch as it bared its teeth at him.
“Meta Knight!” Cried a voice from the edge of the courtyard.
Sword and Blade ran to either side of their lord, weapons drawn, another child in tow who sprinted behind the three of them.
“Kirby, are you all right…?” Asked Tiff, Tuff’s sister, as she placed the back of her hand on Kirby’s head.
“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks for asking…” Tuff muttered, crossing his arms.
“Listen to me, both of you.” Meta Knight commanded. “Take the children and go. Protect Kirby at all costs.” He tightened his grip on his sword. “I will take care of Wolfwrath.”
“Wolfwrath…?” Tiff murmured. “Is this that monster? The one everybody’s looking for…?”
Sword and Blade nodded and went to the children, helping them off the ground.
“With me.” Blade grunted as they escorted them out of the courtyard.
Meta Knight waited until he could no longer hear them before addressing the beast before him.
“We meet again…” He said, “but this time will be different. This time…” He turned his sword, exposing the cutting edge to his opponent. “Only one of us will survive.”
Meta Knight surged forward, slashing at the beast.
It raised its claws to take the hit, ears twitching from the resounding clang.
They exchanged blows like that for some time, the monster seeming oddly content to smack its claws against Meta Knight’s sword.
Meta Knight could only conclude that it was toying with him and, in an effort to end such a game, ducked beneath its next swipe and thrust his blade toward its chest.
Unfortunately for him, the distance was just barely not enough, causing only a minor abrasion to the monster’s skin.
Despite the nature of the injury, it yelped and retreated, growling and releasing hasty fireballs as it went.
Meta Knight jumped back, avoiding the barrage with what felt like an eerie ease. He knew that the creature wasn’t capable of much high-order thought, so it couldn't have been planning to lure him into a false sense of security. What, then, was this sudden sloppiness…?
It was no matter, he reasoned, positioning himself on the edge of the fountain.
What mattered was obtaining this vile monster’s head.
Once it sensed that it was no longer being borne down upon, the creature glanced around for and then locked back onto Meta Knight, glaring at him through the flames. It charged forward, snarling like the bayed animal it was.
Meta Knight chuckled and, at the last moment, jumped straight upward, allowing his opponent to crash into and break the fountain’s basin.
A cacophony of whines and howls filled the courtyard as the monster helplessly flailed backwards, spines dragging through the mud and preventing it from turning back over.
With the time he bought, Meta Knight walked over to the goal for Tuff and Kirby’s game and cut the netting away from its frame with a single motion.
The monster panicked yet more as he threw the netting over it, harming its mobility further and rendering it all but helpless.
“So, my old foe,” Meta Knight said, his visor obscuring his eyes, “it appears that our ancient feud…” He held his sword point-down over the struggling creature, “has come to an end…”
For a moment, he was fully prepared to feel the triumphant cracking of the gem in his opponent’s forehead against his blade. This was, of course, until he realized that there was no such gem.
“Or…perhaps not…?” He murmured, holding his sword back at his side.
Meta Knight was well known for occasionally getting lost in the intensity of battle, but even he was surprised to have somehow missed such an important detail. As best he knew, the gem was a prominent physical feature of Wolfwrath’s, one that was affixed to and part of its skull. Yet, the squirming creature before him bore no sign of ever having had one, not even a scar from a possible removal.
And now that he was thinking about it, he remembered Wolfwrath being a bit bigger, too. Bigger and far more capable.
As he pondered this, something in the water flowing by his feet caught his eye.
He reached down and took it— a scrap of white fabric. Plaited, doubled-up for structural integrity. He stood by and observed as other, similar pieces floated by, seeming to originate from the creature in the net.
“Hm…” he murmured, eyeing said creature. “Very interesting…”
He closed the fabric in his fist.
“Something is not right.”