Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

-BLACKROCK LABS LOG NO. 3497-

*whirring*

“Are you sure this interdimensional transporter will work?”

“Yes…SO PRESS THE BUTTON ALREADY!!”

*click*

*louder whirring*

“…sir, it’s not worki-“

“LEMME SEE THAT!!”

*click* *click* *click* *click* *click*

*whirring intensifies*

“Sir, it’s buste-“

“MY BLUEPRINTS WERE 100% CORRECT!! YOU just need to build it RIGHT this time!!”

*clang*

“…yes sir…”

-END LOG-

————————————

(Kirby)

Kirby’s eyelids felt heavy. He was sprawled flat on the ground, taking in the beautiful blue sky, the refreshingly cool floor below him, and the distinct smell of…trash? This couldn’t be right. He shot up, and instead of being greeted with the cozy tree he fell asleep under, he was greeted with the cold, unfeeling locale of a dingy alleyway in the middle of a city. As far as he knew, there weren’t any places in Planet Popstar that looked like this. Maybe Magolor took him on a surprise trip to Halcandra while he was sleeping? Although, if that was the case…why wasn’t there pollution from the factories in Egg Engines? His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice calling out for him. He turned to where the sound came from, and saw what looked like Elfilin lying in a dumpster!

“Kirby! You’re here too! Thank goodness! I grew Elfilis’ horns-are you doing OK?!”

Chapter Text

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(Dedede)

Being the king of Dream Land was hard work, especially now that he’d taken on actual responsibilities after his clashes with Kirby. King Dedede was ready for a nice nap. He turned off the lights, flopped into his bed, tucked himself in, and closed his eyes. But, oh, his stomach rumbled like an earthquake. He needed a midnight snack. So, he opened his eyes and-

“Wha-HUH?!”

Dedede’s jaw lay agape. Within the split second his eyes were shut, he’d been transported out of his castle and into a jungle of some kind. His hammer had traveled into the dimension with him(he thanked his lucky stars for that), and he saw a strange-looking building in the distance. The tired king decided it would be best to shelter there for the night, so he pushed himself off the floor and began walking. Leaves crunching at every step, the king forced his way past the endless maze of trees. He managed to locate the place he was looking for, but on closer inspection…something was off. It was clearly a religious building of some kind, which bode well for the king, but the door was adorned with a singular peering eye, a reminder of Dedede’s encounters with Dark Matter. He felt a hollow sensation in his chest, his body telling him something’s wrong and this can’t be anything good. But still, what other choice did he have? He was stranded in another dimension, with nowhere to say, and surely any religion worth its salt would take him in, right? So, he stood, pondering. But before he could choose, much less act, the door flung open to reveal someone.

“Oh, a visitor! What brings you to the True Eye today?”

Dedede studied the man. He was humanoid, he was well-dressed, and was missing an eye. He talked in a jovial tone, almost reminiscent of a salesperson. But the most striking detail, to him, were the horns. They were as stereotypically devilish as horns could possibly be. All signs were pointing away, away from this…false priest, but…he also thought of the infinite expanse of woods that lay before him. After all, who knows what interdimensional monsters could be lurking there? So, he forced himself to respond.

“I’m just a traveler. Got lost somewhere an’ I can’t get back. So, I’m lookin’ for somewhere to stay the night. Don’t need anythin’ fancy, just wanna be off the grass.”

“We have an attic upstairs! I’ll guide you there. Just make sure to clean up after you leave.”

“Sounds good ‘ta me, thanks.”

“Oh, and if you want a little extra money on the side…we do have opportunities open for people like you.”

King Dedede let the thought of performing jobs for these people marinate in his mind for a second before following the man. Tough decisions could wait, for now. King Dedede needed to sleep.

————————————

(Sword)

The sights and sounds of Crossroads kept passing by. Inphernals talked, shops negotiated their prices, and Sword’s boots slammed onto the concrete. And yet, with all this stimuli, Sword’s mind was nowhere near here. His head kept replaying the same memory over and over again, forcing Sword on an endless rollercoaster of emotions. He could still hear Rocket’s screams, he could still feel his sword still in his hands, and he could still see his best friend being dragged away. He could even see the strange lump in his path-

*WHAM!*

He’d been snapped out of his flashbacks. He’d tripped over a pink basketball. Thankfully, he wasn’t seriously hurt, but his bruises still stung. He got up and prepared to pick up the basketball and take it to whatever court has lost it, so it was quite a surprise when he saw the basketball looking right at him.

“Are you alright, poyo?”

“WAAAAAH-“

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(Slingshot)

It was a rather slow day at the café. The usual lunch rush failed to bring in many customers, and apart from a few small orders of coffee in the morning, the shop had been completely barren. But…a few minutes before closing, Slingshot heard the door glide open, and a mysterious figure approached the counter. It was cloaked in a shadowy cape, had branded shoulderpads, and glowing yellow irises under a large metal mask. Sling could’ve even swore its eyes were glowing. It slowly walked up to the register. Was it possibly here to…order something?

“Um…m-may I take your order?”

“…you serve parfait, correct?”

At this, Sling couldn’t help but crack a smile. This mysterious, terrifying demon wanted a teeny tiny cake. It was innately humorous. But he didn’t want to be sliced to pieces by the sword it was carrying in a sheath, so he suppressed the urge to laugh.

“Alright then…your total will be 520 Bux, then.”

“Will this do?”

The demon pulled out a sack filled with strange golden coins adorned with stars. It wasn’t like any faction currency Sling had ever seen. Maybe it was one of the many currencies used during the war? This guy looks like the type to be a veteran, anyways. And besides, he could probably sell them off to some foolish pawnbroker who’d think it’s some alien artifact or whatever.

“And…a name for that order?”

“…you may call me ‘Galaxia’.”

Chapter Text

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(Dedede)

Dedede hazily opened his eyes. He had hoped this was all some sort of dream, but as he stared at the same dingy attic, his heart sank. He’d really slept away the night at this dodgy temple. He took a minute to gather himself before descending the ladder to the church’s main office. He expected the room to be empty, but he would soon realize…he was completely surrounded. A circle of disciples clad in dark robes surrounded Dedede, brandishing a variety of weapons in the king’s direction. And in the middle of them was that same creepy smiling face that welcomed him in the night before. He spoke with the same poise that had welcomed the vagrant king in just one night before, but it felt much more sinister now.

“Ah, awake, I see! Apologies for the rude awakening, but we have important matters to discuss.”

“Hey, hey! What’s the big deal wit’ all this anyways?!”

“Well…I dug some files, and turns out, there’s NOBODY in the whole Inpherno who matches your description. So, have you been sent to destroy this church, fiend?!”

“I ain’t done nothin’, honest! The name’s King Dedede, and I’m just not from anywhere near these parts!”

“Well…we cannot trust you, but…we can work out a deal. You will stay in the quarters in the attic, where you will receive ample food and water and be surveiled at all times. But in order to prove your loyalty to the Church, and by proxy, leave, you must run some…errands for us.” His pause was strange, as he had spoken clearly up to that point. But Dedede wasn’t in a position to argue, so he tried to hide his reluctance.

“Errands? Well, if it gets me outta here, I don’t care about doin’ delivery runs or whatever. Guess it’s a deal.”

“It’s a deal, then! I go by many names, but you can just call me the Broker. Disciples, all of you! Show him to his quarters! And make sure to show him all the amenities!”

The hooded demons escorted the king out of the room and into the attic. The Broker seemed to be rushing them out, and once they had all scattered, he muttered something under his breath.

“So the Time of Blindness has come…”

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(Kirby)

“WAAAAAH-“

*thump*

As soon as Kirby turned around, the clumsy knight fell flat on his back. Kirby immediately reached out to the swordsman to help him up, while Elfilin, who was directly behind Kirby, attempted to stifle a laugh.

“Sorry I ran into you-I was…just…in my own head.” His voice sounded shaky and unsure. Kirby knew something had happened to him, but what? Their train of thought was unceremoniously interrupted by the lost adventurer.

“Um…so…wha-who are you, even?” Kirby was about to respond, but Elfilin beat him to the punch.

“I’m Elfilin, and they’re Kirby! What’s your name!”

“I’m…Sword.”

“You don’t look like you’re doing okay, pepoh…we wanna help!!”

“…!”

————————————

(Big Bag of Tix)

Although, they were 500 kilometers deep underground at 4 in the morning, Tixbag was on top the world. Spawned from nothing, they’d risen his way up through a no-name gang and turned it into the most successful counterfeiting operation in the entire Inpherno. Playground currency became essentially worthless in the interfaction economy, and there was no greater culprit for this than Tixbag’s family. They were always 2 steps ahead of the government-to the point where you could bet your average Playground citizen would be unknowingly carrying around the equivalent of at least 7,000 Bux in counterfeit currency. High-ranking family members even tended to believe Tixbag’s bills were more valid than the government’s own. And at the heart of this operation lied the Plant: a locale only a select few knew the existence of. It was the one and only place the family could print bills. Protecting the secrecy of The Plant was priority number 1 for the family: so secret, infact, that only Tixbag knew where it was: hidden within a secret passage in an abandoned back-alley laundromat. They paced around the facility each day, inspecting every printer to see if they were printing the family’s beautiful green bills. They often stayed late at night, even sometimes sleeping there. A passing motion interrupted Tixbag’s nighttime retrospection. They dismissed it as nothing, but unbeknownst to them, a figure darted and dashed between printers, staying hidden from Tixbag’s gaze. It moved with the agility and discipline only fitting of a royal guardsman, but its small size made Tixbag unsuspecting. Finally, when Tixbag traveled to a corner, the figure came out of hiding.

“W-wha?! Who are ‘ya?! Identify yourself!”

The figure made no noise. Tixbag was terrified. It seemed to have a spear sharp enough to cut air. It shakily moved forward, and to Tixbag, it looked like it was itching to take the kill. It thrust its spear forward and…

“I-Uh-YOU LOOK SCARY!!”

“AAAGH!!”

He’d screamed…but the spear was lodged in the wall. Tixbag gazed silently at his capturer. The figure, no longer draped in shadow, was tying a rope around the boss. It turned to face Tixbag-and a closer look revealed bright orange clothing, a pale white face wrapped in a yellow scarf, one fractured horn, and a striking blue bandana. And then, it started to speak.

“Um…sorry about this whole rope thing, but I need to know some things…”

“You-WHA?!”

Chapter Text

(Katana)

“Katana!! How are you today!!”

He’d become used to the loud voice at this point. Slingshot’s energy had a tendency to fill any room he entered-whether that be a good thing or not. Katana’s mind wandered to an old pleasant memory for a second before he got back into focus-he was incredibly thirsty.

“I’m doing quite well. Thank you for your concern, Slingshot.”

“Your usual?”

Katana nodded. He’d already prepared the Bux necessary for his order. His favorite dish-one scrumptious strawberry parfait with the perfect complement: a large latte, with mounds of whipped cream on top. Truly, this was the peak of confectionery delight, he thought.

“Hey, ‘Tana? Saw some strange customer here a few minutes ago. Gave me some strange coins-DEFINITELY not any faction currency I know, but too high-quality to be counterfeit. They definitely reminded me of you-do you have like, a long-lost cousin or something?”

“…hm. There is a possibility…” Katana started drifting into the past for a second-before he quickly snapped out of the unnecessary and returned. “It interests me as well. I will have a look.”

Gripping his blade’s sheath, he approached the masked knight. His eyes glared at Katana in a blazing hue. After a few seconds of silence, the masked stranger’s words cut through the still air.

“State your business.” He pointed his sword in the air, a beautiful golden light reflected in the blade’s point, shining directly at Katana’s throat.

“It is nothing more than a friendly conversation. But if you are dead-set in your ways…” He gripped his hand on his katana’s sheath. “…I am prepared to defend myself.”

The stranger stood up. “You seem a quite capable swordsman-but I have honed my craft for years on end. I propose we cross blades in honorable combat-it would be quite enjoyable, after all.”

Katana drew his blade, and clashed it with the shining gold weapon at his throat. “A duel it is, then. We shall fight until one of our masks shatters in two.”

“Very well. Then let us beg-“

“CAN YOU NOT HOST A DUEL IN MY RESTAURANT?!?!” Both demons(well, one wasn’t a demon) turned to face Slingshot, who had his head in his hands in exasperation. “Ugh. Sorry. Just…Katana, last time you dueled someone in my café, you split three tables cleanly in half, accidentally Thread Towed one of my loyal customers, and almost burned the place down with a wall of fire.” He removed his hands from his face. “Please, just…take it outside.”

“I am sorry, Sling. I did not mean to create such a disturbance.” Katana’s eyes wandered to the exit. “We will meet again-upon the strike of sunset tomorrow, make your way under Crossroads Tower. That shall be our battleground.”

The stranger reached his hand out to shake Katana’s. “Then, it shall be done. Prepare to the best of your ability-you will need all the strength you can muster.”

“You as well, naturally.”

—————————

(Sword)

Wait…what?

They were doing this out of genuine concern? There HAD to be a motive-a scam, perhaps? No demon was this kind to other strangers-especially not ones from outside their faction. And the only demons that ever comforted him like this were Medkit and-

“Heeeey!! You spacing out?”

He turned and Elfilin was behind his head…FLOATING?! He hadn’t noticed-the creature had been previously standing normally-but…this was just straight-up floating.

“H-how are you flying?! What?! Huh?!”

“Oh…uh…yeah! I just…do!! Right, Kirby?”

“Yeah, pepoh! I’m really jealous…”

“Hehe, well, being part of a planet destroying alien has its perks!!! Besides, can’t you fly as well?”

Planet-destroying alien?!?!

“Not as cool as you can, pepoh…”

When Kirby and Elfilin turned back around to look at their new friend, they saw that his mouth couldn’t be closer to the floor. Sword was experiencing information overload. No way they could be lying-nobody goes THAT unbelievable? Then…were these demons…actually-?

“YOU’RE A WHAT?!?!”

“Kirby…should we give him an explanation?”

“Later! We have to save this guy’s friend first, pepoh!”

“Y-yeah!” He still had a mission: find Rocket as SOON as possible. Although he wasn’t sure why, Sword grabbed the two’s hands(or, nub, in Kirby’s case), and dashed between alleys. After what felt like years, they found someone. Those beautifully blue horns, that flashy visor, the prosthetics he’d helped build in his spare time-he knew it. ROCKET! He ran up to his best friend, and screamed. When that didn’t work, Sword started violently shaking him. He had to wake up. He had to. He had to. He ha-

“ROOOOOOCKEEEEEETTTTT!!!!!!!”

“…gh…what.” Rocket groggily cleared his eyes to see his best friend desperately clinging onto his shoulders.

“Rocket! Rocket! You-I thought you DIED!!”

“…I go missing for one or two hours and you think I’m dead.”

“A couple hours? It was DAYS!!”

“Huh?!?!”

—————————

(Subspace)

Subspace jumped up from his workbench. The alarm immediately stole his focus-his work could resume when he had taken shelter-right now, he had to get to safety. It was several flights of stairs he rushed down, hastily clearing steps as fast as his rotting legs could take him. And just when he had finally reached the bottom, reached the exit of the labyrinth-

THOOOM!!

Subspace desperately tried to hold onto consciousness as the world
went
black.

////////////////////////////////////////////

As his consciousness faded back in, he gazed at the floor, now glowing a fluorescent blue. As his eyes started to wander up: he quickly found the source. It was something unlike he’d ever imagined, not a rock from the depths of space, not a stray attack from Firebrand-it was crystal. It had changed the ground into a rich blue gem, and the scattered debris of buildings around it seemed to glow in chilled hues. Subspace started to think. If it can change the world around it…what other parts of reality can these things alter? He jumped at the gem, breaking off as many samples as he could before anyone else could arrive-this was his discovery, and in turn, his new legacy. And as he looked closer into these beautiful gems, as he brought it closer to his head, and consequently, to his ear…he heard something.

Tell me again, how it all ends…

A voice that couldn’t have been there.

And how the forgotten planets bloom...

Speaking a language long dead.

Light shines on the dew, twinkle and dance…

And it twinkled in beautiful, musical tones.

…newborn cries arise to the skies!

“Is this…music!?”