Chapter Text
Quinn
Smash City
Animus Town
800
Quinn figured that after many weeks of being within walking distance of Smash City, the megalopolis would lose its luster. But, as he and Sans followed Altair through a portal in the early morning, he could barely maintain his glee. Animus Town was a place that he wanted to go toas soon as Altair mentioned it. The idea of a melting pot of something resembling the history of the realm of the creators filled Quinn’s imagination.
As they stepped through the portal, Quinn’s expression immediately brightened. They stood in a neighborhood square, ancient architecture from various times in human history spread as far as Quinn could see in any direction. A man strummed a lute as street vendors pushed by, average civilians trekking in the late morning to the market just ahead.
“Wow,” Quinn gasped.
Altair gave the smallest nod, “Such a melting pot left me inawe the first time I saw it.”
“Yeah,” Sans nodded much more animatedly, “Looks like any Monster Human Alliance city now, except all humans.”
“Indeed,” Altair sighed.
In one swift motion, Altair pointed to something on the horizon. A pyramid gleamed in the morning son.
“That is our destination,” Altair curtly announced, “Follow me.”
Altair took the lead, pushing through the crowded streets with such expertise that Quinn reckoned he must have used this motion a million times. As they walked further. Quinn caught the sneers of the adults, while the children stared in wide-eyed glee at their favorite gladiators moseying through the streets, Quinn doubled back, walking side by side with Sans.
“This doesn’t freak you out?” Quinn asked.
“Nah,” Sans shrugged, “Me and my bro are sorta freaks among monsters, being the only two skeletons, so I’ve been dealing with it for as long as I can remember.”
“’Freak among Monsters’ is such a cool line though.”
“Paraphrased. Me and the boys watched the Broly movie last night.”
Quinn froze.
In an unintended bashful squeak, Quinn asked, “Did you?”
“Oh man,” Sans chuckled, “You were out late.”
“Yeah well, I’ve been training,” snapped Quinn.
“Listen, man,”
Quinn let his gaze drift from Sans. Luckily, the pyramid they needed to go to was only a few blocks away.
“I’m serious,” Sans insisted, “You need to like, hang out or something one of these days. Doesn’t have to be with me, but at least do something other than train.”
“I’m sure I’ve got some non-strenuous activity with Rosa or something.”
Sans snorted. The pyramid’s shadow loomed over them now, despite still being blocks away.
“Speaking of,” Quinn asked, “How’s Toriel?”
“Living her best life,” Sans said, “She’s done so much research into everything she can. She thinks my prize money will be enough investment capital to open some kind of multi-dimensional university, where you can learn all about the culture and the language and eventually live there.”
“I’d be happy to be an ambassador, even if all I do is a coupleof commercials and speaking engagements.”
“You’re a good kid.”
Just as Quinn began to feel warmth from the comment, Altair’s voice cut through the air.
“Wait,” was all he had to say.
Altair removed something from his cloak, a model of an obelisk. Altair slotted into place, multiple clicking sounds caused the wall to open up. As Quinn stepped inside, he froze. Men in similar cloaks to Altair moved along the catwalk in the upper atrium, entering an existing side room. From the other side of the pyramid, Quinn could hear the sounds of swords clashing.
“Ah! Brother Altair!” a voice boomed.
The source of the noise leaped from the third level of the atrium, landing perfectly before them. From what Quinn could see from the light of the torches, the man wore a cloak almost exactly like Altair’s beyond splashes of red cloth.
The man chuckled, “It took you long enough the skeleton who cannot be touched.”
“It took me long enough to decide if I wished for my brothers and sisters to suffer.”
“Your dry wit isn’t something I’ll ever get used to,” the man shook his head,
Even though his eyes were obscured by the cloak, Quinn could feel the man eying up and down.
“Take a picture man, it’ll last longer, if you’re even aware of it.”
“I am aware of Brother Leonardo’s obscura, and you will not speak that way to me again.”
“Wait, Leonardo’s Obscura? You mean like Da Vinci? Because I need to make sure you don’t mean the ninja turtle.”
“You know both?”
“Wait what? That was a joke!”
“Enough!” Quinn shouted,“I will not be ignored.”
The man removed his hood, two were nose to nose. The man was young andhandsome, and the fire in his eyes was clear, even through the obfuscated lighting. Just as Quinn began to feel regret, the man laughed, sticking out a hand.
“I joke,” he said.
Quinn shook it, “Quinn Marmaduke,”
“Ezio Auditore,” “I thought I understood why Brother Ryu took a liking to you, but now I understand.”
“You know Ryu?”
“Probably more than most outside of his ilk. From the battlefields of The Island to the gladiatorial arena of the heavens above. Ryu has been both a friend and anopponent. He has endorsed many, but yours was the most glowing.”
Altair unsheathed his hidden blade, snapping everyone to attention
“I suggest we not inflate Quinn’s head with praise and proceed with what we came here to do.”
“Quite right,” Ezio nodded, “Follow me.”
They went deeper into the pyramid, the sounds of swords clashing getting closer.
“I assume the Animus training sessions are going well?” Altair asked.
“Yes. The inventors of the Animus were able to build an environment from scratch, using the methods your ilk uses to create the arenas on which you fight. Leonardo tells me It is less refined than your technology but is as close as humans of this Earth will ever come to it.”
Ezio grabbed a metal door, swinging it open. The torch lights gave way to modern fluorescent lighting. A dark metallic dome stood in the middle of the room, its middle opened like a recently broken cocoon. A team of scientists tapped away dutifully on keyboards. The man closest to the door, a young, tall Asian man took an absent glance to his right, making eye contact with Altair.
“Oh, they’re here Master Bayek,” the man announced.
Two men appeared from the expanse of the dome. The man in the lead wore a minimalist version of the Order of Assassins’ garb, fastening a bow to a modified quiver on his back with one fluid motion. The man scratched his thick yet tidy beard as his cohort moved to stand alongside him, a younger, sterner-looking man whose accouterment to the Assassins’ dress code was an ocean-blue piece of cloth.
“This is the Skeleton who could not be touched?” snapped the stern man, “He’s a lot-“
“Shorter in person, yeah yeah yeah,” Sans sighed.
“Forgive Brother Edward,” said the other man, “He is quite brash.”
Sans shrugged, “No problem. I get it all the time.”
Once again, Quinn found himself being sized up, but this time by the other man, whose expression was much softer than any other assassin he’d met today.
“All of that aside, I am Bayek, otherwise known as Amun. I am the founder of the first Order of Assassins, and its de facto leader, even though most of the modern flock look to Altair for guidance,” he explained.
Quinn looked at Altair, who didn’t flinch. While the others exchanged pleasantries, Quinn found himself in his thoughts, wondering if Altair had heard the guidance line a million times before, or ifhe was so immune to praise. When Quinn snapped back to reality, Sans had accepted some proposition, following the other four assassins into the dome, which closed behind them. The scientists typed even faster, and a TV bolted into the wall flared to life.
“Aminus systems normal, creating environment.”
It was then that Quinn processed the image he was looking at. Sans and the five assassins stood in a white void. A setting materialized before them, piece by piece, Sans’ Snowdin stage.
“You may commence,” said another scientist.
The four assassins lunged, Sams scooting out of the way in much the same way Akuma traveled to and fro. Everything clicked into place for Quinn. Legend had gotten out about Sans’ fight with Frisk, and the assassins wanted to test him. Sans scooted about, peppering the Assassins with energy from his Gaster Blaster for what felt like ten minutes, until an arrow fired from Bayek’s quiver caught Sans in the shoulder. Before he even had time to yell out in pain, Edward and Altair had dogpiled him simultaneously, holding their hidden blades at the ready.
“You can either yield or I can use your head as a bow ornament for my ship,” hissed Edward.
“Nope,” Sans laughed.
He disappeared, reappearing behind them, pulling the sword out of his shoulder the way one might remove a troublesome piece of gum from their clothes.
“I’m a skeleton you rubes, I ain’t got no muscles to hit.”
Bayek looked embarrassed for a moment, his expression immediately becoming neutral again.
“It is imperative that we once again study Brother Leonardo’s study on the human body. We were too easily fooled.”
The other three Assassins nodded.
“Yes sir,” they said.
With a tap of a few buttons from the computer operators, the world around the assassins faded. The dome opened, and all five participants came walking through.
“Now,” Bayek grunted, glancing at Quinn, “Your turn.”
“Me?”
“Yes. Altair has spoken well of you, and I wish to test you as I have Sans.”
Nodding timidly, Quinn followed the assassins back in. The dome closed, and the virtual void appeared around them. Piece by piece, an approximation of theBattlefield formed around them.
Quinn blinked. At that time, the assassins surrounded him.
The voice of the scientist felt like cold steel on Quinn’s spine.
“You may commence.”
The assassins lunged, Quinn jumped, and four swords clashed against each other, Quinn standing atop the makeshift trapeze’s center point.
“Impressive jump,” remarked Ezio.
Quinn darted towards Ezio, the man floored by the flying kick Quinn executed as he leaped off the sword. Quinn heard the drawstring of a bow snap, flipping backward. The arrow bore into Ezio’s chest. He let forth of string of cries in Italian, likely expletives as he turned to face Altair, Edward, and Bayek.
“So which one of you…” Quinn huffed.
Altair stepped forward. Before Altair could even lunge, Quinn had flipped back, knowing exactly how far his roommate’s sword could reach. Altair flipped back. Before Quinn could even formulate his next thought, Altair was charging him, hidden blade extracted. Quinn raised his forearms, his metal gauntlets blocking the blow. Quinn felt his legs be kicked out from under him.
“Ha!” Quinn cried.
Quinn grabbed Altair’s arm as he fell, launching him backward. Edward was standing over him in an instant, flintlock pistol drawn. Quinn rolled backward, avoiding the massive bullet, but falling right into a chokehold from Altair. A few forceful wriggles were enough for the Mii to find a grip, throwing Altair into Edward as hard as he could. Bayek and Ezio bolted forward, tackling him high and low. Quinn let forth a string of curses, his desperate thrashing doing nothing.
“Stop Quinn,” Altair commanded.
“You can’t say he isn’t tenacious at least,” Edward shrugged, climbing to his feet.
“Fine,” Quinn sighed, “I yield.
The world turned to darkness for a second, light flooding in as the dome opened.
“Damn kid,” Sans gasped as soon as Quinn stepped into the light. “You did better than me.”
“I don’t think so, but thanks,” Quinn laughed.
“I thank you for your time, Quinn Marmaduke,” Bayek began, “You are dismissed today, but you will be back tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“I wish for my assassins to see a Smash exhibition. You, Altair, and Sans will battle for us. The winner, of course, will have bragging rights as the young call it.”
“Bragging rights?” Quinn shrugged, “I’ve fought for less. You’re on.”
Altair nodded, “We should take our leave Master Bayek.”
Altair mouthed something to his communicator, a portal opened to the Smash Mansion, andthe three stepped through it.
“If gambling were not haram,” Edward announced as the portal closed, “I’d vote for him over Luigi any day.”
Bayek frowned, “My only hope is that devil Sephiroth is defeated.”
“Indeed,” Ezio said, nodding solemnly.
Luigi
Smash Mansion
Luigi and Daisy’s suite
1200
“MY SKIN IS COLD, TRANSFUSION WITH SOMEBODY!”
Luigi bolted awake. An absurdly bulky anime man was screaming his heart out as he transformed on TV. He glanced over to the other side of the bed, to see Daisy, aTV remote in one hand, and a burrito so packed with ingredients it had to be held together by three tortillas in the other.
“That’s my wake-up call huh?” Luigi chuckled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
Daisy nodded a mouthful of food.
“It was either that or me geeking out, and I know how much it startles you when I scream.”
Luigi glanced at the TV. The bulky man had gotten somehow even bulkier and had pushed the heroes through multiple buildings with just a clothesline.
“That’s probably what Sephiroth hits like,” Luigi lamented.
Daisy shrugged, “You probably got hit harder by Dark Bowser, just sayin’”
“How do you know that?”
“You don’t think Mario and I talk? Said it took him a coupleof weeks before he could breathe right.”
“If he was in pain, he didn’t show it.”
Again, she shrugged.
“Has he ever?”
Luigi chuckled as Daisy went back to munching our burrito. Luigi watched the movie in silence for a few minutes.
“What is this?” he asked.
“Dragonball Z: Revenge of Broly. Sans and his buds were talkin’ about it, so I figured I’d better see what the fuss was about.”
“Do you ever think about hangin’ out with those guys?” asked Luigi.
“Nah,” she shook her head, “They’re weird. Plus, they watch subbed.”
Luigi thought hard, wondering if he’d ever heard that word. When it came to him, Luigi was even more confused.
“Why is it so contentious if they watch with subtitles on?” he asked.
“Because they think they’re getting the true translation, when everybody knows every anime changes stuff for localization purposes, it’s got nothing to do with the language. Plus most of the time you get the general idea from the dub. Ugh, losers.”
“I feel like we watched a ton of anime together on Smash trips and I’ve never seen you this upset over it.”
Daisy’s seethed, “Because you didn’t have losers as co-workers.”
“Fair enough, I suppose,” Luigi shrugged.
He let the silence hang in the air, his girl happily going back to her burrito.
“Hey, did ya get one of those for me?”
“In the fridge,” Daisy mumbled, pointing to the kitchen.
Luigi kicked his feet over the bed and stood. Immediately, his thighs burned. As he walked, he winced. Was his hip misaligned? Making a mental note to see Doctor Mario as soon as he got used to the pain, he finally made it to the fridge, opened it, and grabbed a burrito wrapped in foil. Daisy had finished the remainder of hers in three quick bites.
“Maybe 1000 squats wasn’t the best idea,” Luigi laughed.
“I’m feeling it too,” Daisy chuckled through a mouthful of burrito, “At least we impressed the hell outta Mayor Haggar though.”
Luigi crawled back into bed, “And the people loved it too.”
The foil had barely unfurled from the burrito before Daisy latched onto him, head lazily resting on his chest.
“Just like I love ya,” she mumbled.
“I love you too, but you’re not getting my burrito.”
Daisy’s content face remained unphased as Luigi ate.
“I’m full,” she said, “But this is my way of making sure I keep the TV remote for the afternoon.”
“I don’t mind,” Luigi watched two spikey-haired warriors trade laser blasts from their hands, “This is cool.”
Daisy glanced at her communicator, scrolling through a long document, and nodding sagely.
“That’s good because we’ve got like 20 more movies to go to. I found a list online, and we’re going from best to worst,” she declared.
“That’s an odd way to watch an anthology of… anything.”
Daisy scrolled back up, zeroing in on some items on the list.
“That’s because the worst one is a real riot once you’ve seen the movie that introduces Goku’s dad.”
“That’s his name, Goku!” Luigi shouted, snapping his fingers in the process.
“On the tip of your tongue?” Daisy giggled.
“This always happens when we watch anime,” groaned Luigi
“It’s a lot of names to remember, I don’t blame ya. Now eat your food, it’s gonna get…”
Now it was Daisy’s turn to sigh.
“Daisy, it-“
“In the fridge, I know, I know.”
Luigi nodded in between bites of his burrito. The filling burrito put Luigi to sleep almost as soon as he finished it. When he awoke, Goku was fighting a giant brain in a mech suit.
“Hey Daisy, I just thought of something.”
“Yeah?”
“Is Goku somebody Ryu knows?”
“Dude, yeah! And it’s gonna go great, even if Hellen Gravely joined up with the villains.”
Luigi glanced at his communicator. A new text from Mario confirmed the information.
“Why are we just finding this out?”
“They interrogated King Boo after his little stunt yesterday. He’s been salty all tournament because that ghost woman conducted a coup of her own,”
“Oh Mama Mia, there’ll be so many…”
Daisy held a finger to Luigi’s lips, staring deep into his eyes.
“You’re a hero baby, it’ll be fine,” she said, as softly as Luigi had ever heard her speak.
Just as Luigi felt that coldness that came with fear, Daisy nuzzled his chest again, and at that moment, nothing, not the impending battle with Quinn, not the looming war, mattered.
All that mattered was her.