Ugggh.
A dull, throbbing ache pulsed through your skull as you stirred, the aftereffects of whatever sleeping potion they’d dosed you with still clinging to your senses. Your limbs felt heavy, sluggish—like you’d been dragged through a swamp and left to dry. The air was damp, carrying the faint scent of mildew and something acrid, like burnt metal.
A sharp rap against the wooden bars of your cage jolted you fully awake. A gruff, guttural voice sneered from just beyond the slats.
"You are in the presence of greatness! Wake up and kneel before your betters, cur, before I have to teach you some manners."
Your vision swam as you blinked away the haze, the dim, flickering torchlight casting long, jagged shadows against the cold stone walls. Through the slats, you caught the glint of polished black plate armor—Koopatrols. Their dull, reptilian eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, their spiked pauldrons adding to their imposing silhouettes.
Beyond them, a handful of Koopas and Goombas loitered near the edges of the chamber, watching with varying degrees of interest. Some whispered amongst themselves, while others simply stood at attention. The room was dim, barely lit by torches set into the stone walls, their flames flickering weakly against the oppressive gloom.
To your right, a Koopatrol slammed a mailed fist against his armored chest with a klank.
"Your Surliness, we’ve captured a human interfering with the acquisition of Princess Toadstool, and it’s NOT one of the Mario Bros. What do you suggest we do with him, my liege?"
Silence hung in the air for a moment, thick and oppressive. Then, from the depths of the chamber, a deep, gravelly voice rumbled—a voice that sent an involuntary chill crawling up your spine. It carried a weight of authority, a presence that demanded obedience.
“Bring him closer. I want to see him better.”
The Koopatrols yanked you to your feet and dragged you forward, boots scuffing against the rough stone floor. The torches barely illuminated the figure on the throne, their flickering light casting shifting, jagged shadows that never quite revealed the ruler’s face.
They sat there, draped in darkness, an imposing silhouette that loomed over the chamber. Their piercing eyes—faintly glowing in the dimness—narrowed as they leaned forward, as if studying you.
Then, after a long, heavy pause, the voice muttered, “…Seriously, guys? I can barely see him. Someone turn on the lights.”
The gathered Koopas and Goombas exchanged glances. A Goomba rocked back and forth awkwardly.
Finally, a regular Koopa Troopa hesitantly shuffled over to a comically oversized lever on the far wall. He stared up at it, then gulped.
With a resigned sigh, he jumped up, latching onto the massive handle with both hands. His little legs kicked uselessly in the air as he dangled for a moment before gravity did its thing.
CLUNK.
The torches flared to life all at once, flooding the chamber with warm, golden light.
And at last, you saw who was sitting on the throne.
Bowser – The King of the Koopas himself, just as large and intimidating as ever.
Clawdia Koopa - A towering, female Koopa with a regal presence. Her scales shimmer in the firelight, her clawed fingers tapping impatiently on the armrest.
Bowsette – A 9-foot-tall, flame-haired woman in a black dress and spiked wristbands. Her glowing eyes bore into you as she smirks, fangs flashing.
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