Mario's death

The Mushroom Kingdom hospital was a place of sterile white walls and the rhythmic, heartless beeping of machinery. It was a place where Mario never expected to be. Usually, after a fall from a hundred-story building or a point-blank explosion, he would simply pop back up with a cartoonish bruise and a craving for pasta. But this time, the "ping" of his health bar hadn't returned. The color was draining from his overalls, and his mustache, usually defiant and bushy, felt heavy against his lip.

With trembling, pale fingers, Mario reached for his phone on the bedside table. His vision was blurring, the edges of the room turning into a dark vignette. He didn't have the energy to type. He simply hit the emergency group call icon—the one SMG4 had set up for "world-ending threats only."

At the Showgrounds, the sun was shining brightly. SMG4 was hunched over his computer, obsessing over a timeline for his next video. Meggy was practicing her kicks nearby, while Tari and Bob were arguing over a bag of chips.

The loud, discordant siren of the emergency alert blared from every phone in the room.

"What? Is it an Eldritch god again?" SMG4 grumbled, snatching his phone. "I don't have time for a—"

He swiped the screen open, and the words died in his throat.

The video feed was shaky. It showed Mario, but not the Mario they knew. He was propped up by pillows, a nasal cannula providing him with oxygen. His eyes, usually wide with chaotic energy, were half-lidded and rimmed with red.

"Hey... guys," Mario croaked. His voice sounded like sandpaper on glass. "Mario... Mario isn't doing so good."

"Mario?!" SMG4 screamed, his face turning ghostly pale. "Where are you? What happened? Is this a prank? Tell me this is a stupid prank for a video!"

On the screen, Mario tried to give a thumbs up, but his hand fell limp back onto the bedsheet. "No prank... spaghetti machine... broke inside. I think... I'm out of lives, Glitchy."

Behind SMG4, the rest of the gang crowded around the small screen. Meggy’s breath hitched, her hand flying to her mouth. Tari let out a small, strangled sob, her robotic arm sparking with her distress.

Even from across the kingdom, the call had reached others. Swagmaster and Chris were currently at a high-security checkpoint guarding a literal pile of dirt when Swag’s phone buzzed.

"Yo, Chris, look at this. Mario’s doing a livestream from a morgue! So edgy," Swag joked, but his sunglasses slid down his nose as he looked closer. "Wait... Chris, he looks like my grandma did before she exploded. This is real."

Chris stared at the screen, his usual stoic expression cracking into one of pure horror. "Get in the tank, Swag. Now."

Back at the Showgrounds, the atmosphere had shattered. Luigi had been the last to see the screen, having just walked in with a tray of tea. The tray hit the floor with a deafening shatter.

"Mario?" Luigi whispered, his entire body shaking. "Mario! No! No, no, no!"

But it was Melony who reacted the most violently. She stared at the screen, her large eyes filling with tears that spilled over instantly. To her, Mario wasn't just the idiot who ate glue; he was the one who had looked after her, the one who had shared his snacks and treated her like a daughter in his own strange, chaotic way. He was the closest thing she had to a father figure left in this world.

"Dad?" she whimpered, her voice small and childlike. "Mario, please... wake up. Don't be sleepy."

SMG4 snapped into gear, his adrenaline overriding his shock. "Everyone! To the van! Now! We’re going to the Mushroom Kingdom Central Hospital!"

He didn't wait for a response. He bolted for the door, the rest of the gang trailing behind in a frantic, disorganized blur.

The drive was a nightmare of screeching tires and narrow misses. SMG4 drove like a madman, ignoring traffic lights and Goombas alike. Inside the van, the silence was heavy, broken only by Luigi’s muffled sobs into his hat and Melony’s quiet, rhythmic rocking.

When they arrived, they didn't wait for the doors to fully open. They sprinted through the lobby, a chaotic mess of bright colors and grief. They were met at the elevator by Karen, who was unusually out of breath. She had been working a shift at the hospital cafeteria when she saw the name on the charts.

"Room 404," Karen said, her voice devoid of its usual sarcasm. She looked genuinely shaken, her fur ruffled. "Hurry. The doctors... they said he’s fading fast."

They burst into the room. The smell of antiseptic and stale pasta greeted them. Mario looked even worse in person. The vibrant red of his hat seemed to have bled out, leaving it a dull, dusty rose.

"Mario!" Luigi wailed, throwing himself toward the side of the bed, but stopping just short of touching him, as if afraid the plumber would crumble into ash. "Mario, I’m here! We’re all here!"

Mario’s head turned slowly. A tiny, weak smile touched his lips. "Hey... Weegee. Don't cry... you'll get... snot on the carpet."

Luigi let out a hysterical laugh that turned back into a sob. "I don't care about the carpet! Mario, why didn't you tell us? We could have found a 1-Up! We could have called E. Gadd!"

Mario shook his head feebly. "Tried... all out of... continues. Game over, man."

Melony pushed through the crowd, her face stained with tears. She reached out and took Mario’s hand. It was cold. "Mario... you can't go. Who’s going to show me how to make the perfect grilled cheese? Who’s going to play in the dirt with me?"

Mario looked at her, his gaze softening. "Melony... you’re a big girl now. Use the... Fierce Deity... to protect the snacks. Okay?"

Melony buried her face in the side of the mattress, her shoulders heaving. "I don't want the snacks! I want you!"

SMG4 stood at the foot of the bed, his hands clenched so hard his knuckles were white. He felt a profound sense of guilt. How many times had he used Mario as a crash test dummy for his videos? How many times had he yelled at him for being stupid?

"Mario, I'm sorry," SMG4 choked out. "I'm so sorry for everything. For the memes, for the dangerous stunts... I should have looked out for you better."

Mario chuckled, a wet, rattling sound. "Glitchy... it was fun. We made... the best memes. Just... make sure... I look hot... in the thumbnail."

Even in his final moments, the idiot was still himself. It broke SMG4’s heart more than anything else could.

The door flew open again, and Swagmaster and Chris tumbled in, still wearing their tactical gear. Swag looked like he was about to make a joke, but the sight of Mario stopped him cold.

"Holy crap," Swag whispered, taking off his glasses. "The Italian Stallion is actually checking out."

Chris took off his helmet and bowed his head. "You were a good soldier, Mario. The weirdest, most annoying soldier I’ve ever known. But a good one."

Meggy stepped forward, her eyes bright with unshed tears. She took Mario’s other hand. "Red... listen to me. You’re the reason I’m who I am today. You supported me through Splatfest, through everything. You’re a hero."

Mario’s eyes were starting to close. "Meggy... win one... for the fat man."

"I will," she promised, her voice cracking. "Every single time."

The heart monitor began to slow. The intervals between the beeps grew longer, stretching out into agonizing silences.

"Wait!" Tari cried out, reaching into her pocket. "I have a health potion from a game! Maybe if I—"

Mario gently squeezed her hand, stopping her. "Tari... it's okay. Mario is... tired. Mario wants... to see... the big spaghetti in the sky."

The room fell into a heavy, respectful silence. The only sound was the hum of the hospital and the labored breathing of the man who had been the center of their chaotic universe for over a decade.

Mario looked around the room, taking in each face one last time. He saw his brother, his best friends, and the people he had annoyed into loving him.

"I love... you guys," Mario whispered. "Even Bob."

"Hey!" Bob yelled, though his voice lacked its usual bite. "I love you too, you fat sack of crap!"

Mario’s eyes finally drifted shut. His chest rose one last time, a deep, peaceful breath, and then it stayed still.

The heart monitor let out a long, continuous tone.

The silence that followed was deafening. It was a silence that didn't belong in the Mushroom Kingdom. It was a silence that marked the end of an era.

Luigi was the first to break it, a long, mournful howl of grief that echoed down the hospital hallways. He collapsed against his brother’s chest, clutching the dull red shirt. Melony followed, her grief manifesting as a soft, golden glow that flickered and faded as she sobbed.

SMG4 turned away, staring out the window at the setting sun. The sky was a brilliant, fiery red—the exact color of Mario’s hat. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked over to see Meggy. She wasn't crying anymore; she looked hollow, staring at the bed with a thousand-yard stare.

"What do we do now?" Tari asked, her voice trembling.

SMG4 looked back at his fallen friend. The chaos was gone. The noise was gone. The heart of their world had stopped beating.

"We remember him," SMG4 said softly. "We remember the stupidest, bravest, most annoying man who ever lived."

Outside, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world into shadow. The Red Sunset had finally come to an end, leaving behind a world that would never, ever be the same.

In the corner of the room, Swagmaster put his sunglasses back on, though his hands were shaking. "I'm gonna go buy a million pizzas," he muttered. "And I'm gonna leave them all out for him. Just in case he gets hungry on the way up."

Chris didn't correct him. He just nodded and followed his partner out, leaving the core group alone with their brother.

Luigi reached up and gently adjusted Mario’s hat, straightening it one last time. "Goodnight, Mario," he whispered. "I’ll see you in my dreams."

The hospital room was dark now, save for the faint glow of the city lights outside. They stayed there for hours, unwilling to leave him, unwilling to face a world where the name 'Mario' was just a memory. But as the moon rose, they knew they had to keep going. Because that was what Mario would have wanted—well, that, and a mountain of spaghetti.

As they finally filed out of the room, SMG4 looked back one last time. He could almost swear he heard a faint, ghostly "Okie-dokie" echoing in the air.

He wiped his eyes, set his jaw, and walked out into the night. The memes would continue, the adventures would go on, but there would always be a seat at the table—and a plate of pasta—waiting for the man in red.