Mikasa let out a subdued 'oof' as she landed on something warm and somewhat soft. A welcome cushion from the abrupt and rather frightening feeling of vertigo she had suffered just minutes before. Her eyes widened, and her hands flashed to her waist, relief flooding her when the felt the reassuring shape of her 3DMG still strapped to her. At ease, she took her time to look around her surroundings, momentarily forgetting about what had cushioned her and choosing the instead survey her surroundings. Darkness. Pure darkness. That was all she could see for miles, and her brain quickly began concocting some sort of horror story. Had she gone blind?
No, she could still see her hands when she put them out in front of her. Was she having a nightmare? The feeling of fear that usually accompanied bad dreams wasn't suffocating her chest, so she decided she was safe. So, where was she?
She stiffened, when, below her, the mass of cushion began struggling and managed to hiss out, "Get off of me, Ackerman."
Mikasa jumped, blushing furiously as she realized she had been sitting on her Captain chest. The little Corporal looked winded, and the moment she jumped off of him, he bolstered himself up by his elbows, taking shallow breathes and looking red-faced.
"You're heavy, you know," he huffed, rubbing his chest in rhythmic circles, Temper flying, Mikasa retorted,
"It's not my fault you're so short." She watched, almost with innate fear, as his face morphed from one of neutrality to frightening little pygmy. Before he could spit back his own scathing rebuttal, a booming voice interjected.
"Heroes," It said, sounding placating, "Is fighting among yourselves more important than finding out where you are?"
"Well," Levi quickly began to list why fighting was a perfectly fine thing to do, in his sassy little way of talking down on others, "It's not like we're being attacked. I mean, do you see us being attacked, random loud and very annoying voice."
Mikasa remained silent, as was her habit when faced with the unknown. For all their similarities, Mikasa lacked Levi's sass, which she secretly admired of her Captain. She let him do all the talking.
"So who are you," he asked, not a hint of fear or aversion in his voice. Very monotone, the type of voice he would use in delegation.
"That's not important," the voice stated almost matter-of-factly. "What is important is that you understand why you're here."
For the first time Mikasa felt unease, and she moved closer to her Corporal, shoulders nearly touching. He acknowledged her with a simple glance, but it was one of reassurance, and one of the looks that often made Mikasa regret ever being mean to him. For his sometimes stoic and hard to understand personality, he was more caring than he let people see, and greatly worried for his comrades.
"So, why are we here."
"You've been chosen," the voice said, almost cryptically, "For a tournament. Others too, have been chosen. Seek out companionship, and succeed heroes."
"Wait," Levi shouted, "What about getting home."
But, before Levi could find out anymore, the voice had disappeared, and the two were dumped in a place of, once again, unknown identification. Before long, they spotted a group. A large group. Carefully the two soldier approached, wary and trying not to look threatening.
Link frowned. This seemed all too familiar. He had gone from doing what he did best (being a Hero) to being dumped in spatial darkness with only an eerily familiar voice that made Link even more aggravated. Now was not the time. He had been in the middle of a very crucial task. Besides, that old lady had, had a treasure trove of pots in her house. Surely some of them would have had rupees in them...if only...
"You know the ropes, don't you Link?" the voice almost teased him, but putting his best foot forward, Link nodded confidently. This was no different from the other time, and no different from when his counterparts had taken part in the Brawl. Sheathing his sword, he waited with statue like patience and expectation as he was dumped in yet another unfamiliar place.
He set off, his head primarily set on looking for other veterans; long time pals from worlds far and near. Mario, Kirby, Pikachu, Samus, heck even Donkey Kong would be some sort of company.
The Dragonborn quickly jumped to his feet as darkness engulfed him. The shift was sudden and alarming, as his surroundings changed from beautiful scenery to sheer darkness. He adjusted his helmet quickly so the holes aligned with his eyes, and waved his sword around, hoping to fend off any incoming threats. But he was met with none, and, after a few minutes of confusion, he just stood there looking lost. Finally, a voice from the heavens spoke to him,
"Hero! You have been chosen to participate in a tournament. With...other heroes!" the voice sounded exuberant and for some reason that annoyed the Dragonborn.
"What about meh' home." he bellowed in his thick accent, looking up to the skies and wondering if a dragon was playing a trick on him. Perhaps it was a vampire.
"You'll get home safe and sound," the voice promised, "But for now, be content with your hero status and go find the others."
"The others?" Dovahkiin mused. But, instead of dilly dallying, he ran off. Soon enough, he came upon a viking...fighting with some anthropomorphic creatures. A dog and a rabbit? It was unsettling enough that the Dovahkiin stuttered when he said, "Hail...friends...?"