Chapter Text
ARMS - SPRING STADIUM
Music Inspiration: ARMS Grand Prix Official Theme Song (Ultimate Ver.) / Spring Stadium / Ramen Bowl (Ultimate Ver.)
Matt Murdock, Daredevil or Dizang as he was known now, his cowl heavy on his head, blinked, a useless gesture given his lack of sight, but a habit hard to break. The smell of rubberized flooring, sweat, and something subtly floral was overlaid by the distinct, savory aroma of freshly prepared ramen. Sizzling pork, rich broth, and something uniquely, electrically arcane was the first thing that registered in Matt's returning consciousness. Then there was a feel of taut, springy canvas beneath his boots. His world was a constellation of data painted in sound, scent, and the minute shifts in air pressure.
It was an odd combination, but then again, finding himself here, in what his enhanced senses registered as an entirely new universe after the terrifying, blinding light, was even odder. He was blind, but he was far from unaware. He was in a stadium of some kind. And he wasn't alone.
A figure stirred nearby, her heartbeat a steady, athletic rhythm. The smell of ramen oil and fresh ginger clung to her like a perfume. He knew that scent.
"Easy, friend," a calm, feminine voice cut through the stadium's low hum. "You look like you just woke up from a century-long nap. And... why do you smell like a law office mixed with a little bit of city street grit?"
Matt pivoted instantly, his heightened senses mapping the woman nearby. She was tall, agile, and the source of the delicious scent: a young woman, likely a skilled fighter, with long, spring-like appendages tucked away. Min Min, the Noodle Queen of ARMS. He could smell the subtle scent of soy sauce and broth clinging to her uniform.
"The Ramen Girl?" he rasped, his voice rough.
Min Min let out a sharp, relieved breath. "It's good that you're awake! But, uh, why are you here? In my world?"
Matt pushed himself to his feet, his senses expanding. "I was about to ask you the same thing. One moment, I was in K'un-Lun, then I was in this world of light, fighting alongside you, Lin Lie, Ryu, and Ken..." The memory hit him like a physical blow: a searing, all-consuming light, a celestial presence of impossible power. Galeem. He’d heard the screams of a universe being unmade, felt the light scald his enhanced senses even as he twisted and dove, a futile attempt to evade the inevitable. Then, a different voice, ethereal and powerful, cutting through the chaos. Galacta.
"The light," Matt said, his jaw tight. "We were hit. That voice... it moved us. But it scattered us. Do you know where the others are? Lin Lie? Ryu?"
Min Min shook her head, the motion clear to him as a disturbance in the air. "No. I woke up here alone, just before you did. If they're alive, they could be anywhere in the Smash universe. But for now, our priority is finding out what that light-thing has done to my world, and how we fight back!"
Matt sighed, relief mingling with determination. "Good. At least I'm not the only one with the same idea."
Before either of them could formulate a plan, a heavy, rhythmic thump-thump-thump echoed across the stadium. The familiar, sickening smell of oil and dark matter filled the air.
A squad of Primid figures materialized, grotesque, masked grunts of the Subspace Army. They were followed by Armights and Borborases and a swarm of smaller, ice-winged Glice. They had found them.
"They're here," Matt said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he prepared his billy clubs.
The Subspace Army poured into Spring Stadium, and they surrounded the duo, closing in from all sides.
Min Min immediately fell into a fighting stance, her ARMS—The left, the Dragon, and the right, the Megawatt—coiling with power. She stepped slightly in front of Matt. "Stay close, Devil!" she instructed, her voice firm, "I heard these things hit harder than a gumpy customer on a Saturday rush!"
Matt tilted his head slightly for a moment. He could hear every rustle of their synthetic armor, every click of their hidden weapons, every vile breath the Subspace Army took. But a small, wry smile touched Matt's lips. He appreciated the sentiment from Min Min, the instinct to protect. But he was the Man Without Fear, not a civilian to be coddled.
"I appreciate the concern," he said, flexing his billy clubs and taking a fighting stance, "but I assure you, I'm just as capable of dancing with these creeps as you are. But just because I'm blind doesn't mean I'm helpless. My other senses more than make up for it."
He could hear the sinews coiling in a Primid's leg before it leaped. He could smell the charge building in a Borboras's trumpet of a mouth. He could feel the shift in air pressure as the Roader began its charge. His world was a hyper-detailed radar map of imminent violence.
"And besides," he added, a touch of his lawyerly charm breaking through. "After we clean this up and figure out how to save whatever's left of this universe, I'm holding you to a promise. That famous ramen shop of yours? The Mintendo Noodle House? I'd like to visit. I think a nice, piping hot bowl of your finest ramen is exactly what I'll need after a near-death, multiversal experience. I want a bowl of your best ramen. I can already tell it's the best I'll ever taste."
Min Min’s grin was audible in her voice, a sharp, confident exhalation. "You've got yourself a deal, Devil!"
A Roader picked that moment to charge, its spiked tentacles tearing up the canvas as it aimed directly for Matt. Min Min tensed, ready to intercept, but Matt was already moving.
He didn't see the machine; he listened to it. The whine of its engine, the specific frequency of its tires on the canvas, the rush of air it displaced. He took two quick steps to the side, and as the Roader blurred past, he lashed out with his club, not at the body, but at the front wheel. The precise, powerful strike jammed the mechanism. The Roader shrieked, flipping end-over-end and crashing into a group of advancing Primids.
"Show-off," Min Min quipped, but there was newfound respect in her tone.
"Just getting warmed up," Matt replied.
Then they fought in earnest. It was an unorthodox, yet devastatingly effective, ballet. Min Min was the artillery, her extendable ARMS creating a whirling zone of denial. The Megawatt fist slammed into a Borboras, sending it flying back into the crowd with a crackle of electricity. Her right ARM, the Ramram, became a spinning shield of energy, deflecting incoming projectiles.
Daredevil was the precision striker, the close-quarters maestro. He moved through the chaos like a ghost, his billy clubs a blur. He’d duck under a wild Primid swing, his club snapping out to crush its knee. He’d use the ricochet of one club to disarm a creature behind him, while the other found its mark in the jaw of another. He fought not just with strength, but with an intimate understanding of anatomy and physics, each strike designed for maximum effect with minimal effort.
Their styles complemented each other perfectly. When a swarm of Primids tried to overwhelm Min Min from her blind spot, Matt was there, a whirlwind of controlled violence that cleared the space around her.
"Three o'clock, high!" Matt called out, sensing a winged Primid diving from the stadium rafters.
Min Min didn't question it. Her Ramram shot upward, catching the creature mid-dive and slamming it into the ground.
"Thanks," she said.
"Anytime."
Soon, the last Primid dissolved into dark smoke. The stadium fell silent, save for their steady breathing. The strange, alien threat was gone, for now.
Matt straightened up, wiping a smudge of subspace grime from his helmet. "So," he said, the ghost of a smile returning. "About that ramen."
Min Min retracted her ARMS, the mechanisms clicking softly. "First, we find your friends," she said, her expression turning serious. "And mine. This 'World of Light'... it sounds like a big problem."
"It is," Matt agreed, his senses already reaching out, searching for the familiar heartbeats of his allies in this strange, combined world. "But we've handled big problems before. And a good bowl of ramen is a worthy goal to fight for."
Together, the lawyer from Hell's Kitchen and the ramen-loving fighter from the ARMS league stood back to back on Spring Stadium, an unlikely duo ready to take on a god, one rescued friend, and one perfect meal at a time. The fight for both their worlds, for the soul of two intertwined multiverses, had officially begun.