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The sun—or what was left of it—never truly shone on the brand-new, polished spires of SMG4’s castle. It was a day like any other in the Mushroom Kingdom, which meant it was approximately five minutes away from complete and utter catastrophe. Inside the grand foyer, SMG4 was hunched over a laptop, screaming at a rendering bar that refused to move. Meggy was practicing her combat rolls near the staircase, and Tari was peacefully playing a handheld game on the sofa.

Mario, being Mario, was currently trying to see how many raw spaghetti noodles he could fit into his nose.

"Mario, stop that! You’re going to get an infection!" SMG4 yelled without looking up from his screen.

"Okey-dokey!" Mario chirped, before immediately trying to shove a meatball in his ear instead.

The air in the room suddenly curdled. A low, rhythmic humming sound vibrated through the floorboards, shaking the tea sets and making Tari’s cybernetic arm twitch. In the center of the room, space itself began to tear. A swirling, violent vortex of neon purple energy erupted, howling like a vacuum cleaner possessed by a demon.

"What the hell is that?!" Meggy shouted, drawing her Splatgun.

"It’s a plot hole! Everybody run!" SMG4 scrambled back, but the gravity of the rift was centered entirely on the red-clad plumber.

Mario didn't even have time to scream "Mama-f**ker" before he was lifted off his feet. He flailed his arms, his overalls stretching as the purple light began to consume him.

"Mario! Grab my hand!" Meggy leaped forward, her fingers brushing against his glove, but the force was too great. With a final, sickening *pop*, the vortex collapsed in on itself, leaving behind nothing but a lingering scent of ozone and a single, lonely noodle on the floor.

Mario felt like he was being put through a blender filled with pop rocks. When the spinning finally stopped, he didn't land on soft grass or even the cold stone of the castle. He landed with a metallic *clang* on something hard, cold, and jagged.

"Oof! My ovaries!" Mario groaned, rubbing his backside as he sat up.

He blinked, his eyes adjusting to a world of eternal night and howling snowstorms. He wasn't in the Mushroom Kingdom anymore. He was sitting atop a literal mountain of corpses. But they weren't human or Toad; they were sleek, white-and-black robots with "X" marks over their visor-eyes. A spire of dead drones reached toward a sky choked with frozen clouds.

"Ooh, shiny," Mario remarked, poking a severed robotic head.

High above, perched on the rim of a nearby ruined skyscraper, two figures watched him. They were taller than the drones in the pile, equipped with massive, razor-sharp wings made of glowing blades and long, syringe-tipped tails that flicked with predatory curiosity.

"What is that thing, J?" the one with shorter hair, V, asked. Her yellow sensors flickered as she zoomed in on Mario’s round, mustache-clad face. "It’s organic. But it survived the landing. And it’s... weirdly shaped."

"It shouldn't be here," J replied, her voice cold and professional, though her eyes lingered on the way Mario casually tossed a robotic limb aside. "It’s an anomaly. But look at the way it moves. It has no fear. It’s... almost impressive."

"I think it’s kind of cute," V giggled, a manic edge to her voice. "In a 'I want to see what's inside it' kind of way."

Mario, completely unaware he was being scouted by killing machines, slid down the mountain of bodies like it was a playground slide. "Wheeeeee!"

He began to wander through the frozen wasteland of Copper-9. To anyone else, this was a post-apocalyptic nightmare. To Mario, it was just a level he hadn't played yet. He hummed a distorted version of his own theme song, kicking a piece of scrap metal as he walked through the ruins of a shopping mall.

"Hey! You! Freeze!"

Mario stopped and turned. Standing a few yards away was a purple-haired girl—a drone—wearing a striped beanie. She was shaking, but she held a massive, glowing green railgun leveled right at his chest. This was Uzi Doorman, and she was having a very bad day.

"Who are you? Are you with the company? Are you a new human experiment?" Uzi demanded, her finger twitching on the trigger.

Mario didn't say anything. He just stared at her with his vacant, wide-eyed expression. He tilted his head to the side, his mustache twitching.

Uzi’s scowl faltered. She looked at the strange, plump creature in the red hat. He didn't look like a threat. In fact, he looked... absurdly cuddly. A digital blush crept onto her visor, small pink lines appearing under her eyes. "I... uh... I said stay back! I’ll shoot!"

Mario didn't stay back. He walked right up to the barrel of the railgun, grabbed it, and pushed it aside like it was a wet noodle. He reached out and began to poke Uzi’s face.

"Boop," Mario said.

"Hey! Stop that!" Uzi tried to back away, but Mario was surprisingly fast. He began to "explore" her mechanical frame with the clumsy curiosity of a toddler. He twisted her arm, poked her sensors, and gave her a giant bear hug that made her metal chassis groan.

"Wait—stop! You’re—you’re crushing my—"

There was a loud *crunch*. Mario had squeezed a bit too hard, his cartoonish strength far exceeding the structural integrity of a standard Worker Drone. Uzi’s screen flickered, a "Fatal Error" message popping up in bright red text. Her limbs went limp, her head lolling back as her internal systems shut down permanently.

Mario pulled away, watching as she fell to the snow with a soft thud. "Oops. Mario broke it."

He looked at the fallen drone for a moment, humming thoughtfully. He didn't feel bad; he just felt like he was playing with a Lego set that had come apart. He reached down, grabbed Uzi by her ankles, and began to drag her body through the snow. "Mama mia, Mario needs a souvenir."

He found a secluded, dark corner under a collapsed bridge, shielded from the biting wind. With the casualness of a chef prepping a meal, Mario began his work. He didn't have tools, but he didn't need them. He simply pulled.

*Rrip.*

He pulled the arms off and tossed them into the darkness. He popped the head off like a bottle cap. He was focused, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. He took a particular interest in the legs, admiring the way the joints clicked. He carefully set the legs and feet aside, stacking them neatly.

While he worked, he found an old, discarded gas canister nearby. He didn't know why, but he felt the need to collect the dark, viscous oil leaking from the drone's torso. He held the canister under the dripping neck joint, whistling a tune as the black liquid filled the container.

"Well, well, well," a voice purred from the shadows.

Mario didn't even look up as J and V descended from the rafters, their metal wings folding behind them with a sharp hiss. They landed gracefully, their yellow eyes fixed on the carnage Mario had created.

J stepped forward first, her heels clicking on the icy ground. She looked at the remains of Uzi, then at the pile of limbs Mario had curated. "You certainly have a... unique way of handling the local populace."

"It’s efficient," V added, walking in a slow circle around Mario. She leaned in close, sniffing the air near his hat. "You didn't even use a blade. You just... tore her apart. That’s hot."

Mario finally looked up, blinking at the two tall, dangerous women. "Hello! Do you have any spaghetti?"

J smirked, crossing her arms. "We don't have food, little man. But we do have a shared interest in destruction." She gestured to the dismantled Uzi. "You did a clean job on the legs. Most drones just smash everything to bits. You have... precision."

V stepped in front of Mario, her tail wagging slightly behind her. Her eyes were wide, flickering with a mixture of madness and genuine intrigue. She looked down at her own sleek, white legs, then back at Mario’s blood-and-oil-stained gloves.

"Hey, Red," V whispered, her voice dropping to a low, sultry rasp. "I’ve been looking for a change. These old limbs are getting a bit boring. Why don't you do to me what you did to her?"

J blinked, looking at her partner. "V? What are you doing?"

"Oh, come on, J. Look at him," V giggled, stretching her arms out. "He’s an artist. I want to see how he handles a *real* challenge."

Mario looked at V, then at her legs, then back at his pile of "souvenirs." A wide, toothy grin spread across his face. "Okey-dokey!"

He didn't hesitate. Mario lunged forward with surprising speed, grabbing V by the waist. She let out a sharp, glitched gasp—half-shock, half-delight—as he hoisted her up.

"Wait, not the wings! I need those for—" V started, but she was cut off as Mario began to work.

He was a whirlwind of chaotic energy. He popped the rivets on her shoulder plating with his bare thumbs, ignoring the sparks that showered his hat. He worked with a strange, frantic rhythm, humming the "Invincibility Star" theme under his breath.

J watched from the side, her usual corporate composure wavering. She should have stopped him. She should have killed the organic intruder for damaging company property. But she couldn't take her eyes off him. There was something hypnotic about the way he dismantled her friend—no hesitation, no remorse, just a pure, singular focus on the task at hand.

V’s screams were a discordant melody of digital static and laughter. Even as her limbs were detached, she seemed to be enjoying the sensation of being completely overpowered by something so small and ridiculous.

"The legs, Mario! Keep the legs!" V chirped, her voice fading as her power levels plummeted.

Mario gave a thumbs-up. He carefully unbolted her primary leg actuators, keeping the sleek, pointed feet intact. He tossed her torso and head toward J, who caught them with a stunned expression.

Mario then turned back to his collection. He had a row of legs now, all neatly lined up in the snow. He picked up the gas canister, took a big swig of the oil (promptly spitting it out because it didn't taste like Ragu), and then sat down in the middle of his workshop.

"It’s-a me, Mario!" he announced to the empty, frozen darkness.

J looked down at the decapitated but still conscious head of V in her hands, then back at the plumber who was now trying to wear a robotic leg as a hat.

"J," V’s head whispered, her eyes glowing a faint, satisfied yellow. "We’re keeping him."

J sighed, a small, dangerous smile tugging at her lips. "Fine. But he’s staying in your quarters. I’m not cleaning up the oil stains."

Mario didn't care. He had new toys, a new world, and he hadn't even found the castle’s kitchen yet. Copper-9 wasn't ready for the red menace.