Chapter Text
The cold had never bothered Crazy Hand all that much.
Perhaps that was due to a prank going wrong a while back, which resulted in him being locked in the freezer for a considerable amount of time instead of his intended targets. The Smash Mansion’s freezer was most likely one of the largest in the universe and was impenetrable from the outside and inside, mainly to deter anyone from messing around in there and accidentally finding themselves locked in. Like Crazy Hand. Luckily, he was released about half an hour later by Master Hand who, after seeing that his brother hadn’t become a massive chunk of ice whilst waiting for him, decided not to enquire as to how exactly he ended up in the freezer. It had only been a short while and he was completely unharmed, courtesy of the burning powers that ran through both their veins. Later, it became a story that both hands would laugh about.
But from where Crazy Hand lay, palm-down and battered on the floor in complete darkness, with a bitter wind running over him, he felt anything but happy as that memory entered his mind. Despite only awakening a few minutes ago, he would have gladly cut off his pinky finger to be locked in that freezer again.
Darkness crowded in from all sides and seemed to press down onto Crazy Hand as he struggled to keep himself from succumbing to the dizzying pull back into unconsciousness. His mind spun with confusion. Where… where am I? The wind was relentless, blowing through the inky space from an unknown source. Crazy Hand shuddered and instinctively tried to curl himself inwards, which was a huge mistake. Sharp, shooting pains ran up the underside of his fingers and stabbed him straight in the palm, making him hiss. ‘Ow, ow,’ he muttered, gingerly flexing them.
Everything still felt so hazy. A moment ago, he’d been floating outside the Smash Mansion in the warm sunlight, admiring the welcome banner that was hanging over the grand entryway. Yeah… we were outside, waiting for the arrival of all the fighters, new and old. We’d just finished our redesign of the mansion for the fifth tournament. Even in his dazed state, Crazy Hand let out a weak laugh. Master Hand wanted it just so. He’s always such a perfectionist, not to mention a control freak too. He’s…
A sickening realisation dawned on him and chilled him to the bone.
He’s not here.
Being palm-down was the equivalent of someone lying face-down on the floor, so, with difficulty, he pushed himself off the ground and into the air. Another wave of dizziness threatened to bring him crashing back down and for a few moments, he hovered unsteadily in midair. Crazy Hand’s whole body ached, like he’d decided to enter Cruel Smash with only half health points, which only served to further his confusion, as well as the slight panic gnawing on the edges of his mind. Hey, Master? You there? His words went unanswered in his mind.
While he desperately wanted to call out for Master Hand, he thought it best to hold his metaphorical tongue. Something had happened, just before their roster had arrived, that he was sure of. And to have been rendered unconscious and awoken in such a state, Crazy Hand knew that whatever had happened wasn’t a good thing. He tried again to reach out to his brother, using the telepathic link they had with each other. C’mon, say something, he mentally willed. I need to know that you’re not - He cut that thought short. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about those kinds of things.
Another blast of icy wind set his fingers spasming, though the pain was slowly receding now. ‘Okay, okay,’ he murmured to himself. ‘Looks like it’s just me for the time being.’ Sometimes, he found talking aloud helped with bringing some control over his spiralling thoughts during less-than-ideal situations. He took a deep breath and gazed ahead through the darkness. It’s way too dark in here. Yet, judging by how cold and windy it is, I must be close to the outside world, right?
Cautiously, Crazy Hand floated forward a few paces, completely blind to anything that could be around him. He realised this and stopped with a shiver in the air, trying to push away the fearful thoughts that were steadily snaking themselves around the back of his mind. What if there was something in here with him? Would he be strong enough to fight it? I need to light this place up. Yeah! The dark ain’t so creepy when there’s enough light to chase it away! Not that I’m creeped out by it, or anything.
He snapped his fingers and waited. Nothing happened. He snapped them again. His murky surroundings remained unchanged. The wind continued to howl. My powers…they’re not… I can’t…! Crazy Hand went to snap again, but a particularly strong gust of wind blew him backwards. Caught off guard, the left hand had no time to brace himself as he was mercilessly thrown against a wall, where he slowly slid down onto the floor. ‘Owww,’ he groaned. ‘I hope I didn’t break something, because it sure felt like I did.’ Muscles shrieking in protest, he hauled himself up and traced along the wall. It felt ribbed and spiky, yet strangely, it gave a little when he pushed harder against it. He flew back a few inches. ‘I’ll just have to do this the old-fashioned way then, seeing as I don’t have enough strength in this form to use my powers.’ Crazy Hand focused on the remaining energy that fizzed and sparked with life inside him.
Crazy Hand only realised he was standing on the floor rather than floating, when he felt what many humans called, “Pins and needles” jabbing up his legs. Despite the uncomfortable observation, he smiled to himself. His transformation from hand to human form had worked. Bringing his hands together (sometimes he forgot he had a spare one in human form), he rubbed them together and clapped twice. Thin veins of violet electricity crackled between them, tickling his palms, before expanding and growing upwards. Crazy Hand held them out and a purple, flaming orb flared to life, stray white embers falling from the main body of fire and being carried off into the dark. He grinned triumphantly and cupped his hands closer around the orb. ‘Now that’s more like it,’ he said. However, his spirit was dampened when he saw the condition he was in.
His left hand was decorated with multiple cuts and scratches, with bruises beginning to bloom under the skin. All the damage he’d suffered still transferred into his human form and he could faintly hear a ringing in his head. Because it had been a formal event, what with welcoming everyone back, Crazy Hand had chosen to wear his long white coat over his waistcoat to match his brother’s, much to his approval. As he carefully cast the flickering firelight over himself, he saw that the fabric was stained and torn, with a huge piece ripped away from the back. One of his sleeves was slashed down the side and he’d lost a few buttons. Luckily, the Smash emblem he wore around his neck was unharmed from whatever creature had tried to maul him alive. Crazy Hand touched it lightly; it had been a gift from Master Hand when he’d first joined, back in the days of Melee. A wave of worry washed over him. I hope you’re okay… wherever you are. I’m too unreliable to solely be in charge! But just as quickly, a flash of fury merged with it when he looked down at his bedraggled self again. Whatever it was that did this… I’m going to show it exactly what happens when you mess with a force of destruction!
Just then, the wind dropped. It didn’t peter out naturally though. One moment it was threatening to blow out Crazy Hand’s precious light source, the next, it ceased to exist. For a moment, it was completely silent. Then, what could only be described as a slithering sound filled the void of silence and Crazy Hand jumped as something wrapped itself around his ankle. Stumbling backwards and biting back a gasp, he managed to kick it away, terror closing like an iron fist around his throat. The flame in his hands flickered and sputtered, throwing brief flashes of light around his surroundings. The wall he was pressed against shifted and Crazy Hand instantly sprang away from it, all instincts to fight flaring up inside him.
But, before he could do a single thing, more of those tendril-like appendages shot from the darkness, two wrapping around his arms and another coiling itself around his waist. Crazy Hand gave a shout of surprise, which then turned into frustration as the tendrils around his arms forced his hands apart, causing the purple fire he’d desperately tried to keep alive to die out. It was as if someone had simply blown a puff of air over a lit matchstick, the light was snuffed out so suddenly. ‘Let go of me!’ Crazy Hand yelled, glaring blindly into the murkiness. ‘I don’t know who you are, but if you know who I am, then you’ll release me right this second!’
The tendrils squeezed tighter around his wrists. Thinking quickly, Crazy Hand concentrated his power and teleported, just in time for the shadowy tendrils to constrict into an iron-grip around the place he had just been. The force behind it would probably have been enough to snap his bones cleanly in half. He reappeared further away, balanced higher up on a short ledge jutting out from the wall, hopefully out of range of this strange being.
To his utter shock, it chuckled.
‘You’re faster than I expected. Although, I would expect nothing less from one who wields chaotic energy at his fingertips.’
‘Who are you?’ Crazy Hand demanded, glaring into the darkness. ‘And what have you done with my brother?’
Another chuckle, so deep a sound it bordered on a growl. Crazy Hand instantly hated the sound; it made the hairs on the back of his human form’s neck stand up and his skin prickle uncomfortably. Paired with the fact he couldn’t see the source of where the voice was coming from, it felt as though he was being scrutinised from every angle.
‘I’ll give you one chance to come down from there of your own free will.’ The voice sighed and the darkness seemed to pulse violet for a moment, before fading. ‘Or I’ll drag you down myself. The Light is strong. We can’t afford to waste more time.’
Crazy Hand narrowed his eyes. One moment, you’re trying to squeeze me to death and now you want to talk. Everything about this screamed wrong, but he knew he needed to play his cards right if he wanted to get out of here. Whatever this thing was, it was going to be stronger than him at this moment and as much as Crazy Hand preferred to hash things out on the battlefield, talking would be the safest approach.
He felt himself wobble as he touched down onto the ground, the surge of magic weakened by pain and exhaustion sending dizziness rushing to his head, but he planted his feet firmly and stood his ground.
‘Much better,’ the voice rumbled. ‘Now we can speak as equals.’
Lifting his chin, Crazy Hand stared into the space in front of him, watching for any signs of movement. ‘Who are you?’ he repeated, hoping his tone sounded just as intimidating as Master Hand’s.
A cold gust of wind blew behind him, almost knocking him over. His prison… shifted? Thin cracks of daylight shone through weakly as huge, spiked tendrils, like vines, readjusted themselves. Rivulets of purple and crimson red mingled with the black, the only other colours visible, like glowing veins.
‘Who am I?’
One of the walls of vines trembled and then split, revealing the largest, most piercing blue and yellow eye Crazy Hand had ever seen. He stumbled back a few steps, shock and fear clashing with each other. The eye tracked him, unblinking and calculating.
‘I am Dharkon, the embodiment of chaos and darkness.’
Crazy Hand’s back hit the wall behind him, and he was thrust forward roughly, forced to face the eye head-on.
‘And I am here to offer you a deal.’
Crazy Hand swallowed, a bolt of terror freezing him to the spot. Oh boy.
*****
Something warm blanketed Master Hand’s form as he surfaced from the deep waters of unconsciousness. It felt light and airy, almost tangible, and it seemed to soothe all the aches and pains running up and down his body like rogue, live wires. Master Hand raised his head and slowly blinked his eyes open and was instantly blinded by the orange glare of the fiery sunset sinking into the sea in front of him.
… What?
He cast his gaze around, mind hazy and sluggish, struggling to comprehend what he was seeing. When he looked down, he instinctively moved to levitate, for instead of the ground as he knew it, crystal-clear glass was the only matter preventing him from plummeting into the sea hundreds of feet below him. However, Master Hand didn’t get more than a few inches into the air before he landed heavily back onto the glass, gasping as the ache behind his eyes suddenly flared into a pounding headache that forced him to shut his eyes and clutch his head until it passed. In the temporary darkness, his mind was reeling.
Where in all the Realms was he? His mind was running a mile a minute trying to piece together the events. What felt like a moment ago, he had been standing outside the mansion with Crazy Hand to welcome the Smashers back for the fifth tournaments. The grounds had been cleared, each portal summoned for new and returning contenders alike to arrive through, and everything was perfect. Sunlight had poured down from the blue skies, interrupted only by fluffy white clouds scudding along lazily through the air. A gentle breeze stirred the grass of the training and battlefields and made the trees rustle around the mansion.
Crazy Hand had turned to him, excitement gleaming in his purple eyes as he spun a decoy Smash Ball around and around on the tip of one finger. Master Hand had smiled.
And the blue sky shattered.
Panic spiked through him, and he quickly refocused his thoughts to centre around a clear objective. Crazy, can you hear me? Where are you? His questioning thoughts echoed into nothingness. Master Hand tried again, gritting his teeth, but silence greeted him every time. In fact, Crazy Hand’s very presence seemed to have dwindled down to nothing more than the faintest ember persisting underneath a pile of ash. He had no sense of where he might be and that unnerved him more than words could convey.
‘My, a fellow creationist bowing before another. I would be honoured, if we were not equals.’
Master Hand went very still, opening his eyes behind his hands. There was something hovering just in front of him through the cracks of his fingers. It was bright and surrounded by what looked like wings of a sort.
‘Although, I was under the impression of escorting with me a white glove, not whatever this guise— ‘
Something brushed over his head, and he fought not to cringe away. It was a featherlight touch, but it felt like blades had been raked through his hair.
— might be,’ the voice finished. It had an airy, aloof sort of tone that was softly spoken, yet there was an undercurrent of something… unfeeling about it.
In a flash, Master Hand launched himself into the air and transformed into his true form, powering through the light-headedness and sharp pains lancing up and down his fingers by assuming a threatening position.
‘What is the meaning of this?’ he growled, moving to charge his lasers, only for the cold realisation to punch him straight in the core; his magic was refusing to manifest. He disguised his momentary shock by balling himself into a fist, sizing up the thing in front of him and remaining steadfast when it sunk in just how much larger it was than him.
‘Now, now, calm yourself,’ the voice, or rather, the deity said.
It spread its wings in an open manner, a gesture of peace, but Master Hand remained tense, watching its movements closely. Don’t let your guard down for a second, whispered something in the back of his mind. He couldn’t tell whether that thought belonged to Crazy Hand, potentially close enough for him to telepathically hear, or his own. Whoever this other deity was, it was clearly limiting his connection to his powers, at the very least dampening the effects.
‘I can sense your confusion, Master Hand. Have no fear. I will explain everything.’
‘How do you know my name?’ Master Hand enquired coldly.
The glowing orb in the centre of the ethereal wings grew brighter. ‘Who hasn’t heard of one of the greatest creators in all the universes?’ it responded in an awe-filled tone. ‘Your reputation precedes you.’ The being made a sound like someone clearing their throat. ‘I say, where are my manners? I am known by the title of The Lord of Light far and wide by many, but you may call me Galeem.’
Master Hand watched as Galeem rustled its wings and moved away when it unwrapped a few closest to its core and stretched them out like ribbons.
‘Forgive me. Bringing you here was not the smoothest of journeys. Allow me to- ‘
Whatever it was about to say was abruptly cut off when Master Hand fired a single bullet from his index finger and shot the deity’s wings. It was a weak shot, weaker than he liked, but it still managed to get the message across. I will not be someone’s puppet again. ‘Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? What do you want, and where the hell is my brother? Unless you were blinded by your own light during your invasion into our Realm, you would have seen there was two of us.’
Galeem made a pained noise, yanking its wings back to itself. It drifted lower to the glass floor and although it had no facial features, it seemed to give the impression of looking wounded. ‘What I am about to say is, dare I say, humiliating, for a deity of my status, but so be it. I brought you here because I need your help, Master Hand.’
Well, that wasn’t what Master Hand had expected to hear. He floated down to be at eye-level with Galeem, despite neither of them having any obvious eyes. ‘I advise that you do not take me for a fool. You have surely heard what became of Tabuu?’
‘Indeed.’ Galeem dipped in the air, wings rustling. ‘A most selfish individual. A deity wearing the guise of creator, only to be filled to the brim with darkness.’ It hissed the word out, as though it were coated in venom. ‘It gave me the upmost pleasure to hear of his demise.’
Well, I suppose that’s something we both can agree on.
‘But you, Master Hand. You are so much more than he. You understand the need for balance, for stability, in the universe. Everything needs its place.’
Master Hand moved away when Galeem drifted towards the glass window that showed the sunset bleeding into the ocean below. Its core seemed to glow even brighter than the very sun, as if drawing all the light into itself and then expelling it outwards. A rainbow aura, almost like the Northern Lights, surrounded each of its white wings, emanating with power. He eyed it carefully, all the while every fibre of his being itched to find Crazy Hand. However, he sensed rushing this deity would only slow his progress in that department, so as much as he was worried, he stayed silent.
‘Do you remember when the universe was untouched?’
The question caught him off guard. Master Hand was expecting Galeem to start asking him the usual questions: do you know how much power you hold, are you aware that anyone and anything would kill to be in the position you hold in the universe, and his personal “favourite”, “You’re basically a god. You can do anything!”
‘Untouched?’ Master Hand echoed.
‘I remember,’ Galeem continued, brushing its wingtip along the glass, ‘When the universe was pure and malleable. If I wanted, I could manifest an oceanic civilisation, or a temple on the highest point of a mountain. I could bring light to every corner of the world.’
‘I’m not sure I follow —‘
‘Until it showed up.’ Galeem’s voice sharpened to a needlepoint. ‘It slithered out from a hairline fracture in the furtherest corner of my domain, a twisting, writhing, foul mass of tendrils. I should have known to be careful around the most putrid of forces to ever exist in the universe. I should have expected it would one day rise to attempt usurpation of my reigning status over all.’ It shuddered with disgust. ‘Where I am the Lord of Light, Dharkon, the Lord of Chaos, is sure to follow.’
Each word that was spat out made Master Hand more and more uneasy. Foreboding chilled him to the core, because as much as Galeem was parading around its views on lawfulness and all things pure and holy, there was an undercurrent of something icy. Ruthless, even. It chilled him to the bone.
Don’t listen, don’t listen! Think about literally anything else!
Master Hand jolted minutely. That thought didn’t belong to him. Crazy?
This thing’s insane… and I thought I was insane. Guess I’m… less insane?
Crazy!
Crazy Hand’s voice faded, the telepathic link dissolving into quiet, no matter how hard Master Hand kept a mental grip on it. It slipped through his grasp like a koi fish and submerged beneath the surface.
‘— It’s about time the darkness learned its proper place. Don’t you agree, Master Hand?’
Master Hand jolted to attention as Galeem’s core swivelled around to gaze at him expectantly. He felt a prickling under his skin and hurriedly cleared his mind. He didn’t trust Galeem not to have some way of reading his thoughts and inwardly cursed himself; he hadn’t paid attention to what it was saying.
Galeem leaned towards him, brushing its wings together like the sound of two glasses clinking against each other. ‘Do you not wish to be rid of the darkness too?’
That question made him stop. He flexed his fingers minutely.
‘You know there’s always a chance of someone like him returning,’ it continued. ‘Beings like us are beacons of hope and light. As a result, other unsavoury beings will attempt to extinguish us.’ Galeem’s voice turned distant, as though it was already seeing the future it envisioned laid out in front of it. ‘Especially those of a more destructive nature.’
Its words disturbed something deep inside Master Hand. Something that he had kept buried in a deadlocked tomb in the back of his mind.
They had destroyed Tabuu. His Smashers, along with Sonic tipping the battle in their favour at the end, had obliterated him and Subspace, ensuring no trace of him remained. Although Master Hand was unconscious during the final battle, when Crazy Hand punched and shot his way through hordes of enemies to get to him (and thank the Gods he came back, even after everything), he said that he was just in time, as the very fibres and foundations of Subspace were just beginning to fracture. The Smashers had already escaped, Crazy Hand having ordered them through multiple portals back to the mansion, which wasn’t exactly in the best condition to welcome its occupants back, but would have to do. Nothing would have survived Tabuu’s downfall.
It was only thanks to Crazy Hand that Master Hand had made it back to the mansion too.
His counterpart, but more importantly… his brother.
‘No.’ Master Hand lifted higher into the air, feeling the side of the glass dome brush his wrist. ‘I don’t want to be rid of the darkness. In fact, I never want to be rid of it.’ He pointed at Galeem. ‘If you really are a deity of law and order, you should know that order cannot exist without destruction. They are two sides to the same coin.’ And I learnt that the hard way, he added inwardly, remembering all the times he’d pushed Crazy Hand’s suggestions aside and disregarded his advice, no matter what it was, purely because of his different outlook on life.
He moved as far back as he could away from Galeem. ‘I’ll have no part in this. I love my brother and everything that comes with him.’ He clenched himself into a fist. ‘Perhaps if you learned to be friends with Dharkon, then you would know what love is too. You seem devoid of it in every way for a deity that claims to be oh-so pure.’
Galeem went very, very still.
‘Very well,’ it uttered. ‘I see I will have to do this another way.’
Its wings flared outwards, forming an over-the-top ruff around its core.
Master Hand barely had time to throw himself to the side of the dome as sharp knives hurtled towards him, their iridescence oily in the dying light. They sliced through the air not even ten inches from his wrist and embedded their tips into the glassy walls, framing the sunset that had nearly sunken into the sea. He lunged for Galeem, expecting the familiar thrum of fiery power behind his punch as he poured on speed, but instead there was… a phantom sensation. As though the echo of it was still there, but with the sensation that someone had cut it out of him like they would an invasive tumour.
That alone was enough to cause his attack to falter.
A shout of pain echoed around the space as five of Galeem’s wings, iridescent and intricate as they were, stabbed and scored down his back. They tore into his glove like it was nothing more than a cheap lookalike on Earth. As a last resort, Master Hand curled into himself and transformed into his human form in a bid to loosen the blades.
He landed awkwardly on one side, the ribs of his human form protesting from the impact. He was shivering violently; everything was so, so cold. Master Hand only ever remembered being this cold when Tabuu-
There was a horrible numbness in his right hand, and he instinctively tucked it closer to his chest. Pain flashed in frequent intervals like lightning, and he was aware of how his lungs screamed for air, even though he was drinking it in in great gasps. Heartbeat hammering in his ears, Master Hand could only watch as Galeem’s wings reformed into their usual appearance. They melded together seamlessly, but he saw the tips of some of them stained a deep, dark crimson. Droplets splashed onto the glass in front of him, navy flames rising in short bursts with every drop, then dissipating entirely. Tears stung his eyes. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was never supposed to happen again, not after Tabuu or even Uja, the swarm partially responsible for his “Master Core.”
‘I am sorry. Truly,’ Galeem said. ‘You would have been a valuable asset to me. A shame you were so blinded by your loyalty to your brother. Although, if I perceive Dharkon correctly, I am sure it would have found him utterly delightful as a wellspring to draw yet more, hellish energy from.’ There was a short pause. ‘Alliance with such a being would never have been possible.’
In a flash that made Master Hand shield his eyes, Galeem was gone. He let out a shuddering breath. His legs refused to stop shaking and his arms had gone to jelly. He could feel blood seeping into his waistcoat from his right hand and pressed it harder against himself. He wasn’t ready to see the damage.
Once again, Master Hand had failed to be strong when his strength was vitally needed. He closed his eyes, the rolling waves of the ocean nauseating far below, and let everything fade into obscurity.
*****
Time had rushed past when he next came to. Beyond the glass prison, the moon had risen, bathing everything silver. Stars dotted about the sky, some peeking into their Realm from far away Realms, all twinkling silently. Master Hand slowly pushed himself up, leaning heavily on one hand for a moment, before sitting upright. He kept his gaze down, deliberately avoiding looking at the small puddles of dried blood.
Yet, there was something not quite so silent. Master Hand concentrated, clenching his hands into fists and then instantly regretting that when he felt the wounds on his right hand tear open.
But still, there was something…
Crazy?
Master? Is that really you?
Crazy Hand’s voice was quiet, subdued. He sounded exhausted and Master Hand wondered how long he had been calling to him telepathically.
It is. Are you okay?
Hmm… well, I guess I’m as okay as someone can be after being captured by a weird, one-eyed, vine-tentacled demon.
Dharkon?
Yeah, that’s its name – wait, how did you know that?
Galeem.
Oh… oh. Oh, no, no…
Master Hand drew himself up slightly to lean against one of the glass walls. He could picture Crazy Hand doing something similar, wherever he was. We’ll find a way out of this, he said, praying he sounded reassuring enough. At the very least, we still have each other.
Just then, a sudden pang twisted through him and he hunched over with a grunt. Anger burst into his thoughts, abrasive and entirely foreign. Perhaps things could be better without darkness. Darkness only eats and eats until there’s nothing left–
Hey, bro, don’t disappear on me! Crazy Hand called out, sounding panicked. Are you sure you’re okay?
Master Hand shook his head, chasing the unwelcome anger away. Where had that even come from?
I’m okay, he responded, taking a deep breath in to try to ground himself. Just… don’t let Dharkon hurt you, alright?
But the silence that followed across their telepathic bond spoke volumes.