***Please Note this is a Fan Fic. I do not own the copyright to any of the licensed characters or properties. This is simply for fun. Opening video is animated by Shiya Moegin***
***WARNING! There’s some bad words in this chapter. If you’re sensitive about that sort of thing. You lame***
I have no allies, only monsters to deal with.
The alien said if we get knocked off the battlefield, we’ll get transported back to our home dimension. If every fighter from one’s home dimension is knocked out, that creature will erase them all from existence.
I don’t want to save the two monsters that followed me here, but none of it matters now. To survive, I’ll have to put our differences aside and rely on them. I reach out to Dark Samus, but it stalks in the other direction with Ridley before I can get a word in.
They don’t head for the arena, which is perplexing. Are they planning to stay behind so they can get transported back to our dimension? Without me there, they could cause as much trouble as they want. Dark Samus only cares about conquering the galaxy and spreading Phazon across any planet it comes across. Ridley is more or less the same.
I watch as they head towards the opposite side of the outer circle. Could they truly be that short-sighted? They’re both pretty single-minded, but they can’t be that out of touch with what’s at stake here. Are Phazon and galactic domination that important right now?
No, that isn’t it. They must have some sort of plan.
My helmet interface picks up movement in my peripheral, and I turn to look down at the arena. I’m able to make out several fighters descending upon it. Several of them are scattering away from each other while others are trying to find a place to hide.
Just as I’m about to take a step forward, I detect movement from behind me. I spin around and point my blaster right in the face of a woman dressed in all black. In response, she brandishes two blue, heavily ornamented pistols.
“My, my,” she says. “I’d love to meet the man who tries to pressure you in the bedroom.”
I begin to slightly charge up my blaster. I don’t intend to shoot her right here, but I will if it comes to it. From the way she’s dressed, she looks as if she’s recently escaped some sort of brothel. Her outfit looks everything except practical, but I’ve learned not to judge my opponents based on appearances. After all, a little pink ball of fluff is just as deadly as a giant turtle dragon here.
“Who are you?” I ask.
She lowers her pistols and turns around. She takes a few steps away before she turns back to face me, her lips rising into a confident smirk.
“I suppose we have a few seconds for introductions,” she replies. “You may call me Bayonetta, love.”
In return, I lower my blaster. Maybe she isn’t here to cause trouble.
“What do you need with me?” I ask.
She folds her arms and tilts her head to the side, and her smirk seems to rise even higher than before.
“Well, even though you’re wearing that atrocious getup,” she says, “I know a womanly figure when I see one. We have to stick together, you know.”
She wants an alliance.
“I’m Samus,” I reply, “and why should I ally with someone who isn’t from my dimension?”
“I see,” she says. “You’re about as single-minded as your doppelgänger and its pet crocodile. Tell me you at least know why they’ve run off.”
So, she saw the two of them leave when I tried to explain we needed to stick together, if only just to save our dimension. To be honest, I don’t know why they left, but I know what they’re usually after.
“Ridley and Dark Samus only care about Phazon and collecting life-draining aliens,” I reply.
Bayonetta chuckles, waving one of her pistols in the air.
“Oh, do give them more credit,” she says. “Those two are of the villainous variety, yes? Well, I’ve got a secret for you. The villains are gathering, and those bastards are plotting.”
“Plotting?” I ask. “How do they have time to plot anything? Their own universes are at stake.”
“I didn’t stick around long enough to find out more,” Bayonetta says. “I don’t do well with monologues, I’m afraid. And especially from that one called Ganondork or another. He’s a male warlock, so naturally that’s all he’s good for, and he’s hideous for good measure.”
I feel my body tense up in my suit. This isn’t good. For all of Bayonetta’s jabs, Ganondorf is one of the more capable villains. If he’s forming an alliance with the others, it won’t end well.
“We need to find out what they’re planning,” I say.
“So, then you’re agreeing to work with me?” Bayonetta asks.
“How do I know I can trust you?” I counter.
Bayonetta shakes her head and shrugs. Then, without warning, she points one of her pistols at me again.
“You don’t,” she says, “but understand this, tin woman. If you betray me, I will eliminate you swiftly, and no amount of horrible fashion sense will save you.”
“Same,” I say.
She lowers her pistol and places a hand on her hip.
“Good,” she says as she gestures behind her. “These two will be joining us.”
Two figures approach from behind Bayonetta, and I recognize both of them from a previous fighting cycle. One of them is Captain Olimar, who certainly isn’t a woman. The other is the Wii Fit Trainer, and it seems the female version is here this time.
“What happened to girl power?” I ask, gesturing towards Captain Olimar, “and why these two?”
“Yes, you call the little one Olimar,” Bayonetta says. “The poor thing was shivering all alone when I left that villain sausage party. I couldn’t very well leave him there, you see. He’d get eaten alive on the battlefield, and something tells me he’s the only one from his dimension just like me. Of course, I can’t understand a thing he says.”
She’s right. When Captain Olimar speaks, it sounds like low grunts spoken through a voice masking interface. I’ve tried looking up a way to translate his language before, but it’s no use since he’s from another dimension. Our technology probably wouldn’t even be compatible. Still, he’s a capable fighter, even if the odds are stacked against him.
Wii Fit Trainer can speak. She just has a…limited vocabulary that gets annoying very quickly. I think she’s an A.I. designed to train people, though none of her moves look like regular fighting moves. In fact, most of them look like regular yoga poses, but she’s a strong fighter. It would be unwise to underestimate her.
“The albino is rather annoying, but she seems to be in decent shape,” Bayonetta says. “She’s the only one from her world as well.”
I sigh into my helmet. She realizes at some point she’ll have to fight all of us, right? Sure, this alliance can help make things a little more fair, but we won’t be able to be allies the entire time. At some point, we’ll have to fight each other.
And I intend to win.
“They can come with us as long as they can keep up,” I say. “It’s going to be complete chaos once it starts.”
“Let’s step up the intensity!” Wii Fit Trainer says.
Bayonetta places a hand on her hip and rolls her eyes, while Olimar nods his head and grumbles something incoherent in his native language. I think he’s saying he can handle himself. Let’s hope my guess is right. If any of these fighters falls out of the arena, they’ll be erased from existence right then and there. They only get one chance unlike the rest of us.
Even though Ridley and Dark Samus are my sworn enemies, I may encounter a scenario where I have to help keep them in the ring for as long as possible. I’m certain I won’t be able to honor my agreement with Bayonetta if it comes to that.
“Let’s get fired up!” Wii Fit Trainer pumps her fist into the air as she turns to make her way towards the arena below. Captain Olimar looks at Bayonetta, who ushers him off. He nods quickly before scampering to catch up with Wii Fit Trainer.
“He’s so ugly he’s cute after a while,” Bayonetta says. “Are you ready, dear? We have talking rabbits and electric mice to take down, you know.”
She turns to face the arena, her every movement dripping with self-assuredness. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so sure of herself. Or is it more accurate to say she’s full of herself?
“Can I ask you a question first?” I say.
Bayonetta turns to face me again, her expression clearly invoking annoyance.
“Yes, I guess we have time for that,” she replies.
“Your outfit,” I say. “It looks like it’s made entirely out of hair. Are you sure I’m the one with questionable fashion sense given our circumstances?”
Bayonetta looks affronted at first, but that confident smirk creeps back onto her face. I guess she understands I’m joking.
“My, my,” she says. “So, you have a personality after all. I’ll make a diva out of you yet, Samus.”
8 minutes until the tournament begins.