Open The New Emissary

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---
It was chilly. The plane Henry was left waiting on was always cold, and today snow gently fell. He was in a small clearing in the middle of a dense boreal forest. What could be seen past the tall trees were mountains, seemingly in every direction.

Around Henry in the clearing were various things. A small tent and a fire pit offered some respite from the weather. Scattered about were various trinkets, basic tools, and a stack of logs. There wasn't much to live with, but he didn't expect here to be very long. Or rather, Kolar didn't expect him to stick around.

Sitting on a stump in front of the fire pit, Henry reviewed some of the things that Velian Kolar had left behind. There were handwritten notes that outlined some of the perils of what were known as 'Subspace Bombs', who or what one might expect to face, and some of the people Henry might be meeting up with. He was sure he had all of this down, but it did not hurt to review and there wasn't anything to do until someone else showed up.

King Dedede was lying lazily in his castle. "Ugh, why must this be so boring? It was much more fun back when Tabuu went crazy and tried to kill us all..." he thought. A Waddle Dee entered the room. "Sire! 56th Waddle-Doo Regiment has found a strange portal in the side of the castle!" it said. The monarch's eyes lit up. "Prepare my mallet, inform Kirby and Meta Knight. We'll need to be careful". "But sire, what about soldiers?" "Keep a thousand troops ready at all times. Order effective immediately" he ordered as he leaped off his throne.

He waited for an hour for Kirby and Meta Knight. The king, in all his kingly fashion, decided he was to tired to wait for them. "Troops! Follow me!" he led them into the portal. They came upon a forest clearing, covered with snow. As his army assembled behind him, the king noticed a faint light. He made the gesture to follow him. The army marched on, with its footsteps making a cute thumpy thump noise as they walked.

In this plane, this seemingly endless swirling void of substance, there were two beings. One of them was a blue humanoid figure, whose appearance flickered randomly and frequently. The other was a man clothed in robes that were more befitting a jester than a king. With a jagged sword in hand, the man was currently pacing back and forth, occasionally sneaking glances at the portals that the blue figure was observing.

"How much longer am I going to have to wait for, anyway," the man known as Gangrel spat, "you told me that I could set out when more men showed up, but nobody's showed up!"

"You will wait... as long as it takes..." the entity known as Tabuu ordered in a halting tone, "the more beings you have with you... the stronger the chances of our success will be."

"Bah," Gangrel snorted, "I don't see why I need any puny little allies. A king such as myself is already strong enough to break through enemy ranks as easily as-"

"You should not... overestimate yourself. That attitude... led to your fall all those years ago..."

Tabuu's words caused the onetime Mad King to stop pacing, and turn towards him with a glint in his eye. "That was then. But thanks to my former enemies, I'm even better than how I was in my prime. Why, I'm as strong as the Valmese lobster Walhart, or even the Yli-"

Tabuu flicked his hand, sending a strange star-like object towards Gangrel. Gangrel jumped away out of reflex, seconds before a small explosion erupted where the object had ceased its trajectory.

"You... will wait. I do not... want to take any chances. Once others arrive... I will explain the goal that I have crafted...

"Fine, fine, no need to get your... whatever in a twist. Because you asked so nicely, I'll wait." With that, Gangrel planted his trusty Levin Sword into the floor beneath him, leaning ever so slightly on the weapon while he waited for whatever other freaks this Tabuu had hoped to recruit to arrive.

I do not yet know who faces us., read Henry out of a notebook, There are no clues as to who they are. It is possible that an organization is behind this. The Infinite Consortium has not been an active force for some time now.

"Infinite consortium... I knew some part of this sounded familiar.", Henry pondered.

His thoughts were disturbed, however, by the approach of a sound. It had a cadence to it like that of footsteps, however it was a strange thumping noise instead. Heading into the tent, he grabbed the no-dachi Kolar left for him. It was heavy, very unwieldy for an untrained person, but it was the only real weapon he had. Henry stepped outside, blade in sheath at his side, and listened for the source of the sound.

Facing the direction he believe it to come from, Henry called out, "Whose there?!"

"HALT!" screamed the King the moment he saw that man wielding that sword. "Hey, buddy. Calm down. Lower your sword, we ain't gonna bite" said Dedede. He lowered his mallet. Then, he noticed a peculiar little notebook. "Ooh, what's that you got there?" Dedede said approaching it.

As stoic as he was, Cyrus was never going to become accustomed to interdimensional travel.

That's what it had been, hadn't it? A truck-sized tear in the empty space before him, in the middle of Route 224, remarkably similar to the portals created by that shadowy Pokemon. However, this portal was a striking blue in color, as opposed to an ethereal, murky purple. Regardless, it took Cyrus completely by surprise, which was harder to do with each passing day. Weavile, having just been scouring for Berries, peered into the portal, sticking its entire face through the rift; it quickly withdrew and scratched its nose, wincing and sniffling uncomfortably. Calmly, Cyrus called upon his Probopass. The Compass Pokemon made a grating metallic noise as it appeared in the air beside its master.

"Probopass," commanded Cyrus. "Deploy a Mini-Nose and investigate." Probopass nodded, and without hesitation, sent one of its hovering units into the spatial tear. Minutes passes, Cyrus waiting patiently, Probopass concentrating with eyes closed, Weavile absently running its claws through the grass. Finally, the Mini-Nose returned, returning to its position beside Probopass. Probopass gave a simple nod to Cyrus, who turned back to the portal and thought for a moment.

Had the time for revenge come at last?

"Return, Probopass," he ordered, recalling his servant into its Pokeball. He turned to Weavile. "You will stay out with me. I'm not taking any chances this time." Weavile nodded, stood up and walked to Cyrus' side.

No longer will I rely on the competence of underlings. It is time to claim the power in this world for my own. Cyrus stepped through the portal, and found himself face-to-face with two strange entities, one glowing a bright but flickering blue, and the other wearing an outfit reminiscent of a medieval entertainer.

Hand on the grip, ready to spring it out as best he could, Henry relaxed his hands when a voice said to lower his sword. He looked at the source of the voice. It was a fat, yellow thing. The giant lips and eyes. The silly yet regal aura that emanated from this creature. The troop of short, round, and presumably because of their lack of mouths, wordless things around it. There was something familiar about this thing.

Noticing the big creature's glance at the notebook, Henry pulled it away, "They're just Velian Kolar's notes on this... situation, whatever you call it...", he said, "... King... Dedede?"

What seemed like a normal, if you could call it that, adventure took a turn towards the... Dreamland?

Gangrel's bout of boredom was cut short when another portal fluctuated. Within seconds, a tall, gaunt man stepped out of it, accompanied by a weird... rat... thing. The little thing defied all description to Gangrel - it didn't even bear a resemblance to the taguel of his world. Gangrel probably wouldn't have spared the man a passing glance if it weren't for his rather strange clothing.

"And here I thought I was going to be the subject of 'worst-dressed'," he said with a chuckle, "you, my sullen friend, have certainly usurped that title." His eyes briefly flicked back towards Tabuu before looking at the man again, "and if I'd known that blue was going to be the primary color of this little coalition, I'd have directed you towards a few people I know. Blue's not my color, after all, it's black with a hint of gold, as you can se-"

"Enough..." Tabuu said in a reverberating tone, "Welcome to Subspace... Cyrus. I, Tabuu... rule this realm. He..." a cyan hand gestured towards Gangrel "is called Gangrel... former king... of the Theocracy of Plegia."

"That's Mad King to you," Gangrel said in mock indignation, "so... Cyrus, you should do the courtesy of introducing your rat pal to us. Unless he's simply your world's version of a footsoldier, in which case, don't bother. I wouldn't dare trying to gain a close companionship with a little weakling that's going to serve as a mere distraction in the inevitable conflict."

Gangrel hoped that he would be getting under the skin of this Cyrus fellow. The sullen and stoic ones were always the most fun to needle at; to poke and prod until they burst like a balloon. This Cyrus hadn't said as much as a word, and already Gangrel was looking forward to seeing how long it would take to set him off.

Boomer definitely did not expect this. Not in a million years would he believe a place like this existed. It was dark, not the comforting kind of dark that a boo would like, but unatural, almost black, but a deep purple. Instead of true darkness it was evil. Paths similar to auroras, laced with neon blues and purples, traced all over the empty space.

He had been with small party only a while back, they had been exploring the Gulsty Gulch's deepest corners for companions to challange the green fiend, when they found it. Like a tear in fabric, the hole left behind, this is what the void appeared like.

The caustiously entered out of simple curiousity, they soon regretted it. One by one the group lessened as puppetlike beings attacked. They were all gone. The Simple curiousity had unbanded the group, and left Boomer alone. The boo floated onwards, lost with only the hope of finding his friends.

Startled, but unwilling to show it, Cyrus reassessed the situation at hand.

Taking control of this particular realm was clearly out of the question. One look at the--presence seemed to be the right word--that called itself 'Tabuu' and he knew he was already outmatched. The power seemed to radiate from the humanoid form as intensely as the blue glow, and it was apparent that even with the power of his entire team of Pokemon, plus those stored in his PC, he had only the slightest chance of causing the slightest bother to such a...an apparent deity. Still, thought Cyrus, taking note of the endless array of portals spread as far as the eye could see, all identical to the one he had stepped through, any one of these worlds could provide an opportunity to realize my dream...

"...simply your world's version of a footsoldier, in which case, don't bother. I wouldn't dare trying to gain a close companionship with a little weakling that's going to serve as a mere distraction in the inevitable conflict," said Gangrel of Plegia, in a thinly veiled attempt to needle Cyrus. Cyrus smirked, out of psychological pragmatism rather than legitimate smugness; beside him, Weavile crouched and growled. Cyrus nudged his Pokemon with his toe.

"Settle down," he ordered. Weavile hesitated, then returned to a standing position, licking a sharp claw dismissively. Cyrus turned his attention to Gangrel of Plegia.

"I don't know you, and neither does Weavile, who is certainly far more of an asset to me than you can hope to be. I don't know what a Gangrel is or where a Plegia is found. But I know a fool when I see one. Not the sort of fool who forgets his last name or topples down the stairs on his arse--no, the dangerous sort of fool, the one who enjoys the fray, the one who quarrels for sport and laughs in the face of harrowing conquest. You, Gangrel of Plegia, are one such fool, and I also know that to these fools there is rarely any difference underneath the surface and first impression." He gestured to Tabuu.

"I have no further words for you; I have already discerned all that there is worth knowing about you. I shall assume, based upon which of you has rolled out the welcome-mat as it were, that you and I, 'Mad-King' or not, are of equal standing in the eyes of our host. And I shall therefore respectfully request that you cease this useless chatter and allow Tabuu to explain to me why I find myself in such a realm as his."

Tabuu's face was inscrutable, though Cyrus had noticed a pattern of flickering in his image. Perhaps, he thought, he is currently less powerful than he appears. Weavile stopped haughtily grooming itself suddenly, its ears perking up, and sniffed the air. Cyrus recognized the schema of his longtime servant, and knew its meaning: a ghostly presence was in the air.

Gangrel grinned his usual, wolflike grin. "A few points of rebuttal, little Cyrus. One: it's not a Gangrel, it's the Gangrel. Kindly refer to me in the singular, and not as if I'm part of some species. Two: what your world would call fools, mine calls men. Or women - I'm not picky. We are creatures that fight, and kill, and devour. Given the reason that I suspect our host has called us here, I would assumed that's the mindset that will become the norm." He turned to the blue entity that was behind him. "Am I not wrong?"

"Yes... and no..." Tabuu said, "in order to expand... this realm, we must infiltrate other worlds... and plant these..." he waved a hand, and a portion of the dimension appeared to be sucked in by itself before forming into a large, shiny grey sphere. Inscribed on one side of the sphere was a large golden "X," which itself was just barely split in half by a seam of some sort.

"These are known as... Subspace Catalysts. They are an upgraded... version of weapons I used... in the past. Once detonated... a large portion of the... dimension they are in... will be absorbed into Subspace.

"They must be planted... in an area where as much... of the dimension as possible... is assimilated. The missions are therefore... multistep. Step one is scouting... for the proper area. The following step... is deploying and subsequently... defending the bomb. It is unlikely that any dimension... would react well to the presence of this weapon."

The grin disappeared from Gangrel's face. Here he'd been expecting a sort of all-out assault the likes of which hadn't been done since the Valm War, and instead it was going to be a simple in-and-out assassination. "That's it? Seems rather wasteful, bringing someone of my ability into your little game, just so you can drop your... cat-a-list in each of these worlds. I'm not the type fo-"

"You... are. I know of your past as a common thief," Tabuu said in a more commanding tone, "you will be very... useful in the scouting... and your strength in combat... will serve well in defending... the Catalyst." The entity then turned to Cyrus, "Does that answer... your questions?"
----
From somewhere else in the near-infinite expanse of Subspace, the man known as Sumeragi was watching the entire meeting with a grim look on his face. Pulling in Cyrus had been a stroke of good fortune, which did well to counterbalance the fact that Mad King Gangrel had also joined in this game.

In truth, he had been hoping to pull the Valmese Emperor Walhart into his plan. Someone with as much strength as the legendary Conqueror would be an incredible asset to him. He'd planted a portal in the Outrealm Gate of that world, knowing that the Gate had been where Walhart was last seen.

But no, instead the ex-king of Plegia had wandered into the Gate and subsequently Subspace instead. Sumeragi would have to... adjust the next step of his plan simply to pander to Gangrel's tastes.

"I'll have to pass that along to Tabuu," he muttered to himself, "make sure that he's... fully aware of how much of a danger Gangrel could be."

Ideally, it wouldn't matter. If things worked in his favor, then Gangrel could still become an asset. He would simply have to be more careful in this early phase than he would have liked.

Dedede smiled. "Yes, it is me, the one and only King of Dreamland! And who are you? What's a Velian Kolar? Food?" said the King. "And where exactly am I? Is this the World of Trophies or something else?" he said as he causally leaned on his mallet.

There was something vaguely familiar about the forest clearing. He had seen it somwhere. Squinting his eyes, assesing the man in front of him, he deemed him trustworthy. With a somber, worried face he asked, "What is this situation you talk about? That bastard Tabuu again?"

Jace ended another session scrying with a sigh. "It would seem -something- is up. It might be best to explore this... I can't stick around here," he said as he pulled his hood up and stepped aside in his small office. He looked around at the building, both grateful and a bit disappointed that he would be leaving it again. He slipped his bag onto his belt off his desk and then proceeded to focus. He then took a step, and melded, crossing the planes.

Jace appeared not far off behind the young man with the sword, facing a figure in something akin to what a jester might wear and with a massive hammer and mouthless round... creatures near him. "I appear to have... stepped in on something," he finally comments. "I hope that is not a problem."

"Uh... huh...", Henry said, dumbfounded that this was actually King Dedede.

He had to think about this for a second. Calling him out as a video game character would probably leave the King as confused as Henry was, which would not get anyone anywhere.

Then Dedede mentioned Tabuu. Of course he would know who Tabuu is., Henry thought, I played Subspace Emissary... Oh crap.

"Yes.", Henry said, "Maybe. There was a... Subspace Bomb."

Then Henry heard another set of feet land on the snow, with a light crunch as opposed to the silly thumps that King Dedede and his army left. He turned to face who, or what, it was.

The brooding aura, the cloak, everything. This was, in fact, Jace Beleren. He had to resist to urge to shout, You broken bastard!

"No, uh, not at all. In fact, you're in the right place.", Henry told him, "I think. You wouldn't happen to be... Jace Beleren, would you? Have you met Velian Kolar?"

Jace noted the young man's hesitation, but decided not to pry. That had gotten him into far too much trouble before. He sighed, mostly to himself, before nodding.

"Yes, I am. However, I am not sure I have met a Velian Kolar. The name does strike familiar, though," Jace responded. "He wouldn't happen to be another planeswalker, would he?"

Jace moved a few steps closer to the two, more so that he would not have to raise his voice toward the other figure. "And who, or what, might you be?" He asked once he stopped, then looked back at the young man. "In fact, I might as well ask both of you the question of 'Who?'."

"Why, I'm King Dedede, Ruler of Dreamland. And who might you be, mister Jace? Where are you from?" said the King. This whole situation started to smell again of that thing he did with Ness and Luigi.

"You" he said turning to the young man, "Who is Velian Kolar? A "planeswalker", as "Jace" says?"

"Oh, right, my name is Henry Bayer.", Henry told the others, "I'm not sure how I got here. Well, not here, I was brought to this taiga by Velian Kolar, but I don't know how I left my home plane."

"Velian Kolar is a planeswalker," Henry continued, "he found me inside the... Subspace, I suppose it was. He brought me to this plane and told me to wait here for help. I guess that's you guys. He never said who or how many, just setup this campsite, gave me this sword, and told me to wait. Come to think of it, I don't know much about him either."

"Yes...and no," answered Cyrus, ignoring the Mad King (a more and more fitting title by the moment). "You have explained to me the task at hand, but you seem to have avoided explaining to me why I find myself here, in this realm. I have no interest in expanding your domain, though I do not argue that it is your right." He nudged Weavile again with his foot, stopping the Sharp Claw Pokemon from wandering off in search of the apparent nearby ghost.

"I see no gain for myself, and furthermore I do not appreciate being instructed as if I were some lackey," Cyrus continued. "Give me a reason why I should assist you in your conquest, and agree to work with him." He jabbed an irritable thumb at Gangrel of Plegia.

Sumeragi watched Cyrus' minor spiel with a more disinterested on his face. It seemed unlikely that Cyrus would have found reason for working with Gangrel, and it came as no surprise that the man wanted something for himself - nobody sane does nothing for nothing, after all. Sumeragi did know of Cyrus' past exploits, however, and thus had the perfect argument to woo the man to Tabuu's cause.

He paused for a moment, focusing energy, and then blinked. As that happened, his left pupil changed shape, forming into the mark "導." Crossing his legs in a meditative stance, the man began to speak.
----
"Reward? Well, I suppose some people value things besides the thrill of combat. Why, two years ago I certainly would have tried to strike a bargaining position for a certain Ylissean treasure," Gangrel said whimsically, "but that Gangrel is dead now - the only thing I ever asked of this cause is an opportunity to-"

Gangrel's musings were cut off as Tabuu suddenly shuddered. For a brief moment, the entity's body seemed to cease moving altogether, as if crushed by some kind of invisible wall. Then the flickering resumed, and when Tabuu spoke again, there was more of an edge to his voice:

"I have heard of your... journeys into dimensions beyond your own, Cyrus. How you sought to tame beings on the level of gods. I brought you to this cause for the... experience you had, and the power you could offer as a direct result. Now as for your reward... I aim to absorb as many realms as possible into Subspace, but I feel rather... certain that I could spare at least one. Name a realm... any realm. When we travel to it, it will be conquered under your flag, not mine. Would such a... reward suffice?"

"Sheesh, talk about pandering," Gangrel muttered under his breath, "you really go the extra mile to get people to join you." He looked around the dimension, noting that he and Cyrus and Cyrus' pet rat-thing were the only ones he could see, "but I guess beggars can't be choosers, as they say."

A thorough explanation at last. Cyrus could become accustomed to such an organization, where details were not left unaccounted for. He rubbed his chin, bemused.

"I accept your offer, and yet I can not possibly know of each dimension to which I shall soon travel. Therefore I reserve my choice of domain until such a time comes where I am experienced enough within a potential realm to be comfortable with a decision. Further than that, Tabuu, I will be pleased to comply with such a bargain. Weavile will you stop that."

He aimed a kick at his Pokemon, who nimbly jumped out of the way, but ceased the pulling of Cyrus' pants leg all the same. Insistently, it pointed--to the east? The west? Did this place have such designations?--and purred, not of comfort, but of discreet warning. Mentally sighing, Cyrus held up a hand to silence Weavile, and turned to Tabuu and Gangrel.

"My associate here is demanding that I relay to you that a ghost has entered this world. I know not where, I know not who, but it is apparently nearby. I apologize for this rude--" he glared at Weavile "--interjection."