Pit was watching the TV in the Smash House, with the Ice Climbers, it was an anime as this was the first he had ever seen on or even TV.
Pit tilted his head "So, like this guy, fight these things called Entity, who eat souls, and also use a sword twice his size".
Nana shook her head. "Yup".
Popo looked at it. "It's our first time watching, so it's new for us".
Pit stared at the screen, eyes wide as the orange-haired swordsman carved through another Hollow.
"…Why is his sword bigger than he is?" Pit asked, genuinely concerned.
Nana shrugged. "Anime."
Popo nodded like that explained everything. "That's just how it works."
On screen, the Hollow screeched, dissolved into smoke, and the protagonist struck a dramatic pose while wind blew for no reason.
Pit leaned forward. "Is the wind a power?"
"No," Nana said immediately.
"Yes," Popo said at the same time.
They both looked at each other.
"…Maybe," they said together.
Pit blinked. 'This world keeps inventing new rules just to ignore them.'
The front door suddenly opened.
"WHY IS THE TV BLEEDING EMOTIONS?"
Pit flinched as Viridi stormed into the room, pointing at the screen like it had personally offended her.
Palutena followed behind her, calm as ever. "Viridi, it's called anime."
Viridi crossed her arms. "It's called psychological warfare."
On screen, the main character started screaming about protecting his friends.
Pit's wings twitched. "…Is he okay?"
Palutena tilted her head. "Emotionally? No. Narratively? He'll be fine."
The Ice Climbers watched silently as a flashback started. Black-and-white. Rain. Trauma.
Popo whispered, "Oh no. Backstory."
Nana pulled the blanket up a little. "This is where it hurts."
Pit swallowed. 'Why does everyone here accept pain as entertainment?'
A loud crash echoed from upstairs.
Everyone froze.
Another crash. Then shouting.
"That was not a secret door!"
"That door was clearly labeled Do Not Touch!"
Pit slowly stood up. "Please tell me that wasn't my room."
Ren's voice drifted down the stairs, far too calm. "Good news. It's not your room."
A pause.
"…Bad news. It's worse."
Sephiroth floated down the stairs a moment later, tea cup still intact, one wing brushing the railing.
"Ridley discovered the concept of furniture rearrangement," he said flatly.
Right on cue, something exploded upstairs.
Viridi pinched the bridge of her nose. "I give it ten minutes before the house becomes a crater."
Pit sighed, rubbing his face. "Why does everything here escalate so fast?"
Palutena smiled gently and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Welcome to Smash Life, Pit."
From the TV, the protagonist screamed again.
Pit looked back at the screen. Then at the ceiling shook above him.
"…I think I prefer the Entity's."
Link stopped in front of him, already holding a small stack of game cases.
"Hey, Pit. You free?" he asked casually.
Pit blinked. "Yes."
That was it. No follow-up question. No explanation.
A few minutes later…
Pit stood in line outside a game store, staring at a neon sign full of characters he didn't recognize, holding a plastic basket he did not remember agreeing to carry.
He looked down at it. "…When did this happen?"
Link glanced over, perfectly calm. "You said yes."
Pit opened his mouth, then closed it. 'That's… technically true.'
The line moved forward. Screens inside the store flashed trailers—explosions, swords, magic, guns, things that absolutely should not coexist.
Pit leaned closer to Link. "So, um… what is this place?"
"A game store."
"…I know that part."
Link shrugged. "You buy games. You play them. You lose track of time."
Pit frowned. "That sounds dangerous."
Link smiled. That somehow made it worse.
Ahead of them, Mario and Luigi were arguing quietly.
"I'm telling you, the blue shell is unfair," Luigi hissed.
Mario waved a hand. "It builds character!"
Behind Pit, Kirby bounced in place, holding a single game with both hands.
"Poyo!"
Pit turned. "Is that… for you?"
Kirby nodded proudly.
Pit squinted at the cover. "Isn't that a horror game?"
"Poyo."
Link leaned down slightly. "He likes the music."
Pit slowly faced forward again. 'Of course he does.'
A screen above the counter suddenly changed to a dramatic trailer. A deep voice boomed:
"In a world torn by fate—"
Pit flinched. "Why does everything here have narration?"
Link didn't answer. He was already reaching for another game and dropping it into the basket.
Pit looked inside.
Swords. Fantasy. Space battles. Farming.
"…Link," Pit said carefully, "are all of these for you?"
Link shook his head. "Some are for me. Some are for Zelda. One is for the house."
Pit paused. "The house plays games?"
Link nodded. "Poorly."
The line moved again. The cashier looked tired. So very tired.
Pit shifted his weight, wings rustling slightly. "I thought Smash Life would be more… fighting."
Link glanced at him. "This is worse."
Pit sighed. "…I miss Angel Land."
Link smiled again, completely unhelpful.
"Don't worry," he said. "You'll like it."
Pit watched the automatic doors slide open.
He had a very bad feeling about this.
Once they got into the store, Link started to look for the game
Link lifted the case like it was a sacred artifact.
"Found it."
Pit leaned closer, reading the cover upside down. "…Call of Duty?"
Link nodded. "For me."
Pit blinked once. Then again. "Is it… a spell?"
"No."
"A duty?"
"Yes."
Pit thought about that for a second. 'That explains nothing.'
He looked at the cover art—soldiers, explosions, a guy staring into the middle distance like he'd seen too much.
"So this is a war game," Pit said slowly.
"Yep."
"With guns."
"Yep."
Pit glanced down at Link's sword. Then back at the cover. "You know you already have a perfectly good weapon, right?"
Link shrugged. "Different skill set."
Pit accepted that way too easily. "Yeah, I'm not gonna judge."
They moved deeper into the store.
Pit's head was on a swivel now. Rows and rows of games stretched out in every direction. Bright covers. Dark covers. Covers that were just a single letter and somehow meant everything.
He stopped in front of one shelf. "…Why are there so many farming games?"
Link didn't slow down. "Stress relief."
Pit frowned. "You fight monsters the size of buildings."
"Exactly."
Pit followed, basket still in hand, wings tucked tight so he wouldn't knock anything over. A nearby screen showed gameplay—someone sprinting through rubble, gunfire everywhere.
Pit flinched. "That person just respawned."
"Yeah."
"They died."
"Yeah."
"And everyone is fine with this?"
Link paused, thought about it, then nodded. "Mostly."
Pit stared at the screen. 'Palutena would hate this.'
A familiar voice suddenly cut in from behind them.
"Oh hey, Pit!"
Pit turned to see Samus standing in the aisle, arms crossed, visor up. She glanced at the case in Link's hand.
"…Call of Duty?"
Link nodded once.
Samus smirked. "Figures."
Pit pointed at her. "You play these too, don't you."
Samus didn't deny it. "Target practice."
Pit sighed. "Of course."
Further down the aisle, Snake was comparing two nearly identical game cases with intense focus.
"These are different editions," Snake muttered. "One has a bonus knife skin."
Pit whispered to Link, "Why is he like that?"
Link whispered back, "Don't ask."
They reached the counter. The cashier looked up, eyes flicking briefly to Pit's wings, then immediately away like this was not the weirdest thing they'd seen today.
"Find everything okay?" they asked, deadpan.
Link placed Call of Duty on the counter.
Pit hesitated, then slowly added another case from the basket. He didn't remember picking it up.
The cashier scanned it. "Animal Crossing."
Pit stared. "…When did I grab this?"
Link smiled. "Stress relief."
Pit opened his mouth to argue, then stopped.
'…I have been stressed.'
He sighed. "Fine."
The cashier handed them the receipt. "Have fun."
As they stepped back outside, Pit looked down at the bag in his hands.
"…I came here to help you," he said.
Link nodded. "And now you're going to play games."
Pit stared at the bag, then at Link. "…This place is dangerous."
Link smiled, bright and unapologetic.
"Welcome to Smash Life."
After walking out of the store Pit found something on the floor
Pit stared at the fallen case in his hands, reading the title slowly.
"God… of… war?"
Something about it made his wings twitch.
Before he could think too hard about why, Samus smoothly took it from him, like confiscating a cursed artifact. She didn't even look at the cover—just slid it behind her back and, in one practiced motion, pulled out another game and pressed it into his chest.
"One Piece: World Seeker," she said. "Take this instead."
Pit blinked. "Why?"
Samus finally looked at him, visor tilted just enough to show she was being very serious.
"Trust me," she said. "That one won't give you trauma."
Pit glanced back at the God of War case now tucked under Samus's arm. "…That one does?"
Samus paused. Then nodded once. "Yes."
Link leaned over, squinting at the One Piece cover. "You play a stretchy pirate."
Pit's eyes lit up a little. "Oh! That sounds fun."
"You fight," Samus added.
"Of course."
"You fall from very high places."
"Understandable."
"And nobody talks about gods killing their parents."
Pit hugged the case closer. "Sold."
They started walking again, Pit carefully carrying the bag like it might explode if mishandled.
"So," Pit said after a moment, "this anime thing… it's a genre?"
Link nodded. "Yep."
"And games based on anime?"
"Yep."
"And farming games."
"Yes."
"And war simulators."
"Yes."
"And games where you date pigeons—"
Samus cut in instantly. "We're not talking about that."
Pit stopped walking. "That was real hesitation, Samus."
She resumed walking. "Focus."
As they reached the exit, Pit glanced back at the shelves one last time. So many worlds. So many rules. So many things he somehow understood less than ancient prophecies.
He sighed, smiling despite himself.
'How did I go from fighting gods… to worrying about spoilers?'
Outside, he adjusted the bag on his arm and looked at Link.
"…Can you show me how to use the controller?"
Link grinned. "After dinner."
Pit nodded solemnly. "Good. I don't want to embarrass myself."
From behind them, Samus smirked. "You're already doing great, angel."
Pit blinked. "…That was sarcasm, wasn't it?"
"Absolutely."
And somehow, despite everything, Pit laughed.
The trio made it back to the Smash House, bags in hand.
Pit froze the moment he saw it.
The PS Infinity sat beneath the TV like some kind of sacred relic, sleek and glowing faintly. He could feel magic in it—not divine magic, but something… engineered. Carefully made. Dangerous in its own way.
"Sora built that," Samus said casually. "With Mega Man's help."
Pit stared harder. "Why does that sentence scare me?"
Samus just smirked.
Pit slid the disc into the console, the machine humming to life. The screen flared, music blasting as One Piece: World Shaker booted up.
Pit held the controller.
It stared back at him.
Too many buttons.
Too many sticks.
Why did it vibrate like it was alive?
He pressed one.
His character jumped.
"Oh!" Pit smiled. "That's simple."
Five seconds later, he pressed another button.
His character launched himself directly off a cliff.
The screen went black.
YOU DIED
Pit blinked.
"…I don't think I did?"
Samus crossed her arms. "You did."
Pit tried again.
This time he ran in circles. Then attacked the air. Then accidentally opened a menu mid-combat. Then paused. Then unpaused. Then got hit once.
The controller vibrated violently.
Pit panicked and dropped it.
His character was beaten into the ground.
YOU DIED
Pit slowly turned to Samus. "Is this supposed to be harder than fighting gods?"
"Yes."
He tried again.
Thirty minutes later.
Pit was sweating. Actual sweat. His wings drooped. His eyes were hollow.
"I don't understand," he muttered. "I can fight monsters the size of mountains. I have defeated armies. I have survived divine trials."
He respawned.
A random grunt enemy hit him once.
YOU DIED
Pit slumped back onto the couch. "…I hate this box."
Samus laughed. Not a loud laugh—just a quiet, satisfied one. "First-time gamer experience."
Pit stared at the screen, then at the controller, then at his hands.
'This thing is evil,' he thought.
Somewhere down the hall, Link peeked in, watched Pit fail spectacularly for five seconds, then nodded to himself.
"Yeah," he said. "That tracks."
Pit sighed, picked the controller back up, and straightened his posture.
"…Again."
Bad?
Absolutely.
Hilarious?
Even more so.
Samus sat down beside him and gently took hold of his arm, steadying it.
"Let me help," she said.
Pit stiffened for half a second, then nodded, pretending very hard that his face wasn't warming up. "T-thanks."
They restarted the game.
"Okay," Samus said, calm and patient. "Left stick moves. Right stick controls the camera. Don't fight the camera."
Pit immediately fought the camera.
"No—Pit, stop spinning."
"I'm not spinning, it's spinning me!"
She sighed, then reached over and adjusted the controller in his hands. "Relax. You don't need to grip it like a weapon."
"I do though," Pit muttered. "Everything else I hold is a weapon."
This time, his character moved forward. Cleanly. No cliff. No accidental roll.
Pit's eyes widened. "Oh. Oh! I'm walking!"
"Proud of you," Samus said dryly.
An enemy appeared.
Pit tensed. "Okay, now what?"
"Light attack. Don't mash."
He mashed.
The screen exploded with random moves. Somehow—somehow—the enemy went down.
Pit stared. "…Did I do that?"
Samus smirked. "Beginner's luck."
They kept playing.
Pit learned to block.
Then dodge.
Then dodge straight into danger.
"Why does it punish hesitation?" Pit groaned after another defeat.
"Because games are cruel," Samus replied. "And honest."
At some point, Pit stopped dying every ten seconds. Then every thirty. Then he actually cleared a section.
He leaned back, wings fluttering slightly. "I think… I think I'm getting it."
Samus glanced at the screen, then at him. "You are. You adapt fast."
Pit smiled at that. A real one.
Then a boss appeared.
Big. Loud. Dramatic.
Pit froze. "…That's not fair."
The boss hit him once.
YOU DIED
Pit slumped forward onto the couch. "I hate it again."
Samus laughed softly and nudged his shoulder. "Welcome to gaming."
Pit exhaled, then picked the controller back up.
"…Again."
Somewhere else in the house, a few Smash fighters passed by, peeked into the room, and quietly kept walking.
Whatever was happening in there—
—Pit was learning something far more dangerous than combat.
He was learning how games worked.
To be continued
Hope people like this Ch here and give me power stones and enjoy