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Chapter Text

PIKMIN - DISTANT PLANET

Music Inspiration: Main Theme - Pikmin (Ultimate Ver.) / Main Theme - Pikmin (Original Ver.)

Chapter Text

PIKMIN - DISTANT PLANET

Music Inspiration: Environmental Noises (lol) / World Map - Pikmin 2 / Stage Select - Pikmin 2 / Mission Mode - Pikmin 3

The trio set off through the dense, vibrant undergrowth of the Distant Planet, a landscape that Mantis found increasingly—and suspiciously—familiar.

The journey through the "forest" of vines and colossal leaves was a lesson in perspective.

As they trekked, Mantis pointed toward a massive, discarded circular object made of serrated metal. "Watch your step. That bottle cap looks sharp enough to slice through your suits."

Olimar didn't even look up from his data pad, scribbling furiously. "A 'bottle cap'? Preposterous. That is a Quenching Emblem, a clear geological byproduct of the ancient, discarded civilizations that once inhabited PNF-404. Its serrated edges are likely meant for ritualistic grinding."

A little later, they passed a couple of used art supplies. Mantis blinked, her antennae twitching in confusion.

“And that's a double-ended pencil,” Mantis said.

“Ah,” Alph chimed in, cheerful. “That’s an ‘Implement of Toil,’ Ma'am. Part of the 'Tortured Artist Series' of treasures. Captain Olimar, should we have the Pikmin haul it? It’s near that ‘Decorative Goo’.” He pointed to a Blue Mario Paint Tube the size of a minivan.

Mantis just nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. She could feel their academic fascination, pure and uncluttered. To them, this wasn’t a standard human backyard; it was a wild, undocumented planet, PNF-404, as Olimar had declared earlier.

And her senses were alight. Olimar’s focus was laser-sharp, scanning for threats and resources. Every burrow, every rustle in the under-megafauna, was cataloged. He’d occasionally stop, blow his whistle, and pluck a single, sprouting Pikmin from the soil, adding a Red one or a Yellow one to their growing procession. His emotions were practical: caution, curiosity, a deep-seated drive to understand and survive.

Alph’s emotions were a warmer, more social blend. She felt his protective instinct towards the Pikmin, his respect for Olimar, and his burgeoning, if slightly flustered, concern for her. He was the shepherd, whistling and directing their colorful troop. “Alright, Whites, you sniff out the pellets! Reds, you’re on guard duty! Blues, stick near the water’s edge!”

The Pikmin themselves were a delight to Mantis's empathic mind. Their consciousness was simple and clean. Happiness when given a task, anxiety when a predatory Iridescent Glint Beetle the size of a truck scuttled past (deftly avoided by Olimar’s quick routing), but overall a profound, instinctual loyalty. 

Mantis watched them with a soft expression. 

"They feel like... children," Mantis whispered. "Bright, eager, and completely devoid of malice. It is... a refreshing change."

As they walked, Mantis noticed a rhythmic patter-patter-patter behind her. She turned to find a line of seven Blue and Red Pikmin following her in a perfect, single-file line. Every time she stopped, they stopped. Every time she tilted her head, their little antennae tilted in unison.

"Oh," Mantis said, her voice lilting with a hint of a laugh. "It appears I have acquired a tail."

Alph looked back and chuckled, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks. "They’ve taken a real liking to you, Ma'am. Pikmin are simple-minded, but they have a keen sense for authority and... well, kindness. They’re prone to following a 'leader' figure. Since you’re the biggest thing in the forest that isn't trying to eat them, you’re basically a celebrity."

They sense my empathy, Mantis thought. They feel it like a warm light.

She reached down and gently patted the lead Red Pikmin on its leaf stem. It let out a joyful squeak, and the feeling that echoed back was pure, unadulterated affection.

"I will protect them," Mantis said firmly, her empathic bond tightening. "They are too pure for this world."

"That’s the spirit," Alph cheered. "But you might want to prepare yourself, Ma'am. My sensors are picking up a massive heat signature just ahead. Something is guarding the path to the next clearing!"

A low, guttural croak echoed through the trees, vibrating the very ground beneath their tiny feet.

Olimar paused, holding up a fist. The entire column of Pikmin and people halted. “Predator sign,” he whispered, his voice tight. Mantis felt a spike of focused alarm from him. 

There. A gnawing, mindless, all-consuming hunger. It was so visceral that it made her gasp.

“What is it?” Alph whispered, his hand drifting to his drone.

“Something… very empty,” Mantis breathed, her feelers quivering. “It only wants to eat.”

From behind a monumental acorn cap, a creature emerged. It was a grub, pale and pulsating, but as big as a bus. Its head swung toward them, sensing movement.

“Breadbug Larva. Aggressive variant,” Olimar stated, already strategizing. “Reds, forward formation! Aim for the rear segments! Alph, flank with the Rocks! Mantis, stay back with the—”

But Mantis was already stepping forward, her Pikmin ducklings huddling behind her legs. She closed her eyes, focusing on that wave of primal hunger. It wasn’t malicious. It was just… void. She reached out with her mind, not to control, but to soothe, to gently push the emotion towards something else.

“You are not hungry,” she whispered, her voice carrying an unnatural resonance. “You are… full. You are tired. You want to… sleep.”

The charging larva hesitated. Its mandibles, which had been clacking eagerly, slowed. The overwhelming hunger in Mantis’s mind softened, blurred by a wave of artificial lethargy. The creature let out a confused, low gurgle and began to slow, its head drooping.

Olimar and Alph stared, their Pikmin poised for an attack that was no longer coming.

“Fascinating,” Olimar murmured, his scientific curiosity momentarily overriding the danger.

Alph looked from the snoozing mega-larva to Mantis, his emotions a whirlwind of awe, surprise, and that now-familiar warm admiration. “Wow...”

Mantis opened her eyes, a little weary from the effort. The Pikmin chirped proudly, as if they’d done it themselves. She smiled.

The moment was a quiet pocket in their perilous trek. The snoozing larva was behind them, and the forest of grass seemed less intimidating. As they navigated around the area, a Blue Pikmin tugged at her leg, and it pointed a tiny arm towards a patch of soft soil. There, a single leaf sprout swayed in the slight breeze.

Alph smiled. "I think it's asking for your help. See that sprout? There's a Pikmin buried there. It wants you to pull it out."

Mantis knelt, her large eyes filled with concern. She gently touched the yellow sprout. It felt warm, alive. "But... what if I hurt it? If I pull on this, will it not cause it great distress? I do not wish to be a 'decapitator.'"

"Nonsense!" Olimar called out, "The plucking process is a vital part of their maturation cycle! The tugging sensation actually stimulates their central nervous system. It's quite invigorating for them!"

"Just give it a firm, steady pull," Alph translated into simpler terms. "It's okay. It's like finding a seedling in the sun!"

Taking a deep breath, Mantis wrapped her fingers around the stem. She could feel a faint, sleeping consciousness within the earth. With a gentle tug, she pulled.

POP!

The soil gave way easily. Out popped a Yellow Pikmin with a somersault. It let out a joyful, high-pitched "Pik-pik!" and shook itself, sending a small cloud of dust into the air. It then turned its gaze on Mantis, its head tilting to the side with curiosity. The Yellow Pikmin stepped forward. It reached up, not with its hands, but by stretching its entire body. The very tip of its leaf-like antenna, still damp with earth, brushed lightly against one of Mantis's own graceful feelers.

Mantis gasped. The empathic connection was instant.

The sensation was unlike anything she’d ever felt from Peter or Rocket. There were no regrets, no hidden traumas, no "hidden agendas." Just a flood of joy, curiosity, loyalty, and a need to protect "the green bug lady."

Mantis gasped softly, a genuine smile spreading across her face.

"Oh... you are wonderful," Mantis whispered, a tear of genuine emotion welling in her eye. "It is like a newborn!"

Olimar stopped his surveying and adjusted his visor, entering "Lecturer Mode."

He observed the interaction, and his scientific mind was activated. "Fascinating. The Pikminidae family exhibits a form of photosynthetic empathy. Upon awakening, they imprint on the first consciousness they perceive as a benefactor, establishing a proto-symbiotic bond. Their emotional spectrum is limited but intense, prioritizing communal survival and the safety of the perceived colony leader. They are, in essence, biological extensions of the leader's will."

Mantis blinked, looking completely lost. Alph stepped in quickly, waving a hand to dismiss the jargon.

"What he means," he said to Mantis, who was now letting the Yellow Pikmin investigate her boots, "is that they're like super-friendly, super-loyal plant babies. They don't overthink things like we do. To that little guy, you aren't just a stranger. You’re his whole world now. It'll follow you into a furnace if you asked!"

Mantis looked down at the Yellow Pikmin, who was now proudly "guarding" her boot. She looked at Alph. "I think I prefer your version."

"Me too," Alph admitted with a bashful grin. "But don't tell the Captain."

Mantis gently scooped up the Yellow Pikmin. It chirped happily, happily waving. She looked at the other Pikmin following her from behind. A small, colorful guard of plant-like creatures.

"They are not complicated," Mantis said, her voice full of wonder. "No anger. No jealousy. Only what is needed for the group. It is... a relief." In a universe shattered by a being of pure, destructive light, and amidst her worry for her chaotic, emotionally complex family, these simple creatures were a sanctuary.

"Just wait until you see what they can do with a Bomb Rock!" Alph laughed, signaling for the march to resume.

Mantis fell into step, her new Pikmin perched on her shoulder, its tiny leaves catching the sun.

The journey had settled into a rhythm: Pikmin carrying pellets and the distant calls of colossal insects. But, Olimar suddenly stopped, turning to Mantis with an air of mild embarrassment she could feel as a warm flush of chagrin. He straightened his tiny gloves and adjusted his helmet, looking slightly embarrassed.

“Ah. In the chaos of survival, I have neglected basic protocol,” he said, his voice formal through his helmet’s speaker. “I am Captain Olimar of Hocotate Freight. This is my associate, Alph, an engineer from the planet Koppai.”

Alph gave a little wave, his own sheepishness a bright, sunny feeling next to Olimar’s more muted one. “Sorry about that! It’s just, you know, giant bugs and world-ending light shows. Kind of distracting.”

The two looked up at Mantis, who comically towered over them.

Mantis gave a small, gracious bow of her head. “It is quite alright. I am Mantis.”

Olimar continued, gesturing at the towering flora. “This planet, which we designate PNF-404, is not our home. I first came here after my ship, the S.S. Dolphin, was struck by an asteroid. I was stranded.” He said it with the matter-of-fact tone of someone recounting a slightly inconvenient business trip.

“And my crew and I,” Alph added, “were searching for food for our home planet. Koppai was… starving. We crash-landed here, too. Seems to be a theme.” He chuckled, a nervous, hopeful sound. Mantis felt his underlying pride in overcoming that crisis, mixed with a lingering sadness.

“So,” Olimar said, his curiosity now a pointed, analytical probe. “You are clearly not from this world either. May I inquire… what are you, Miss Mantis? Your physiology is unlike any species in the Hocotate or Koppai databases. The empathic antennae are particularly fascinating.”

Alph nodded eagerly. “Yeah! And you said you were with others. Who are you all? You look like superheroes!”

Mantis folded her hands in front of her, gathering her thoughts. Mantis sat back on a moss-covered "boulder" (which was actually a discarded brick). Her Pikmin sat at her feet, the Yellow still perched on her shoulder, all listening intently as if they understood. She smiled softly, her antennae swaying with a rhythmic grace.

“I am… an empath,” she began, her voice soft but clear. “I feel the hearts of those around me and influence the emotions of others. Like the larvae from before."

Olimar’s eyes widened behind his visor. “Remarkable! A biological emotion-sensing apparatus!”

“And I am a member of a team,” Mantis continued. “The Guardians of the Galaxy."

Alph leaned forward, his eyes wide behind his visor. "Wait... A Guardian of the whole Galaxy?"

"Yes," Mantis nodded, her expression turning slightly more serious. "We are a team of outcasts, like the talking raccoon, the tree-man, the very loud man who thinks he can dance, and others. We defend the cosmos from perils that would consume all life. We are often the last line of defense when the stars themselves are threatened."

There was a long silence.

“A galactic protector? Truly?” Olimar murmured in awe. It was as if he’d just realized the modest botanist he’d been trekking with was actually a decorated general. “I must admit, your gentle demeanor is… deceiving. I would not have guessed you were a soldier of the stars.”

Meanwhile, Alph's eyes widened in awe. It was like a fan meeting a legendary hero for the first time. He looked like he was about to faint from pure admiration.

“You… you save galaxies?” Alph breathed, his earlier confidence replaced by pure wonder. “That’s… that’s incredible! We were just trying to save our one planet. And you guys… wow.”

Mantis could feel the heat radiating from Alph’s face, a mixture of deep respect and a fluttery, nervous energy. It was quite endearing.

Mantis felt a faint blush of her own, uncomfortable with the pedestal but touched by their reactions. “It is not always glorious. It is often loud, and messy, and The Guardians—my family—they are… very emotional. Rocket is angry, Peter is arrogant, Groot is gentle, but they are good. They are my home.”

The lighthearted atmosphere turned somber as Mantis’s antennae drooped, a wave of profound sorrow and cosmic exhaustion radiating from her. The yellow Pikmin at her feet sensed the shift and let out a soft, mournful "Pik", huddling closer to her boots.

"But my journey here was not a simple shipwreck," Mantis began, her voice trembling with the weight of her memories. "The Timelines... They are fractured. One moment, I was trapped in the Collector’s Museum with a peculiar land shark and a psychic assassin from another time. We fought our way out of those glass cages. Another Mantis sacrificed herself to save me. We escaped, but it was... loud."

Olimar paused, his hand hovering over his whistle. He had seen strange things, but the "Collector" sounded like a predator far worse than any Bulborb. And Alph could've sworn he saw the beginnings of a tear form around Mantis's eyes.

Mantis continued, "We received a distress call from the planet Klyntar. My family—Peter, Rocket, Groot, and Adam—were there. And so was Knull, an ancient god. He had awakened. And he had... beheaded a Celestial, a god of the cosmos. He sought to drown every living spark in unending darkness."

Olimar adjusted his helmet, a habit of his when he was scared. His brain tried to categorize such impossible events. To Olimar, this sounded like a "Geological Event of Super-Massive Proportions," and he mentally filed Knull under "Extravagant Apex Predator."

"A beheaded god?" Alph squeaked, his helmet fogging up from his rapid breathing. "You were fighting the end of the universe itself?!"

Mantis nodded, "Yes, little one. We were rushing to aid them, to face a terror that consumes galaxies..." Her hands were clasped together tightly. “And then, before we could reach them... the universe twisted again. It was not the Timestream Entanglement, but something else. A convergence of... everything. We were pulled into a kaleidoscope of worlds. Your world. and then...”

She looked up at the sky of the Distant Planet.

“The light. The light of that being. I felt nothing. It's only singular purpose is to eliminate. To replace. It was… absolute. We were nothing before it. Adam and the others tried to shield us, but it was too much.” She closed her eyes. “I felt us dissolving. And then... Galacta’s voice. A whisper in the dissolution. She did not stop the light. She... moved us. Like pieces on a board, snatched away at the last second. She saved us and then scattered us all.”

Silence hung between them, broken only by the environmental noises. The scale of it all. Cosmic gods of darkness and light, celestial decapitation, and the shuffling of realities. It was so vast it rendered Olimar’s asteroid strike and Alph’s famine mission heartbreakingly simple.

“I… see." Olimar said softly, "Our predicament is yet another multiversal systemic collapse on two fronts.”

Alph was staring, his earlier hero-worship now tempered by dread. “You were facing a universe-eating darkness... and now a universe-erasing light. And you’re… here. With us.”

Mantis nodded, placing a hand on the head of a Red Pikmin seeking solace. “Yes. You understand," she said, her voice low but carrying a new, resonant strength. "This is not merely a shipwreck, little ones. Both our worlds, our timelines... they are caught in the crosshairs of something primordial. The Light Being seeks to erase the chaotic, beautiful mess of everything we know and overwrite it with sterile, ordered light. If it succeeds, Hocotate, Koppai, Earth, Knowhere... all of it will be gone. We must stop it."

Olimar’s posture changed. The "scientific surveyor" disappeared, replaced by the veteran who had survived the Subspace Emissary.

"Mission parameters understood," Olimar said with a sharp nod. "I’ve seen this before, Miss Mantis. A being named Tabuu once tried to pull our world into a void of purple static. We fought alongside many others to stop its infringement on reality. If a 'God' wants a fight, he’ll find that even the smallest life forms have a very nasty sting."

Alph stepped forward, comically puffing up his chest. His admiration also became the fierce, clear-cut resolve of an engineer presented with the ultimate problem to solve.

"Then we'll do more than just save ourselves," Alph declared, his voice firm. "We'll save your timeline too, Miss Mantis. We'll find your Guardians, and we'll all send that light-thing packing. Together!"

And the Pikmin?

They suddenly sprang into action. They began jumping in place, letting out spirited chirps. The Yellow Pikmin on her shoulder waved its little arms, its ears flapping, and a few more Blue and Red Pikmin returned a Pellet, offering it like a shield. They didn't understand Galeem or The Timestream Entanglement, but they understood that "Green Bug Lady" was ready to fight, and they were ready to fight for her.

They were volunteering for a war they didn't understand.

Mantis knelt, overwhelmed by gratitude. Tears welled in her eyes, but she smiled. She gently touched the heads of the Pikmin.

They are so small, Mantis whispered, her eyes glowing a soft, vibrant green. But their hearts... they are like miniature suns.

"I feel you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Your courage. Your resolve. I am... forever grateful. We will fight. Not just for my world, or yours, but for all worlds. For the right to be messy, and emotional, and free."

She rose, looking at Olimar and Alph, her new commanders in this most surreal of armies. "The Guardians of the Galaxy are scattered. But here, now, we form a new alliance. The Guardians... and the Gardeners."

Olimar allowed a small, grim smile. "Apt. We till the soil of this battlefield. Alph, begin surveying for a permanent base camp. We need an Onion site, defensible, with resource access. Miss Mantis, your empathic senses will be our early warning system. Pikmin!" he whistled, and dozens of colorful heads snapped to him. "Our work is just beginning. For Hocotate! For Koppai! For the Galaxy!"

The Pikmin raised a unified, triumphant cry that echoed through the colossal garden. The mission was clear. The army was small, strange, and rooted. But their resolve was as vast as the multiverse they now had to save.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

The ground shook, sending vibrations up through Mantis’s feet. The Pikmin, who had been chirping bravely moments before, let out a terrified shriek. Their simple emotions were swamped by a tidal wave of primal fear.

"What is that?" Mantis cried, her own antennae vibrating violently. "Another hunger... and it is cavernous! It is all-consuming!"

“Bulborb! Adult one!” Alph yelled, his voice cracking with panic. “Run! Everybody, run!”

“No, scatter is worse! Take cover! Hide in the grass!” Olimar commanded in a frantic voice, trying to impose order. He blew his whistle in a sharp, retreating pattern, but the Pikmin were chaos, tripping over each other, their line dissolving.

Then a massive, round creature with big eyes and a big mouth. A Red Bulborb. With a horrifying, wet snap of its jaws, it lunged into the group of retreating Pikmin.

Mantis watched in paralyzed horror as three Red Pikmin were scooped up in a single bite. Another was crushed under a massive, spindly foot. To Mantis, an empath who felt every flicker of their simple, joyful lives, their sudden silence felt like a physical blow to her chest.

Alph cried out in anguish. Olimar’s determination twisted into desperate fury as he tried to herd the survivors.

"No..." Mantis whispered.

"Miss Mantis, get back!" Olimar shouted, desperately blowing his whistle to gather the scattered survivors. "We can't fight it while they're in a panic!"

Then her horror curdled, boiled, and transformed. It became a white-hot, protective rage. It was a feeling she rarely allowed herself, a Celestial Madonna’s fury.

“NO! STOP IT!"

Mantis leaped forward, her body glowing with a vibrant, pulsing green aura. Life Energy. She struck the Bulborb’s snout with a palm thrust, a shockwave of emerald light causing the Bulborb to recoil and howl in pain.

The Bulborb staggered, letting out a surprised, pained grunt. Its eyes locked onto Mantis, and it roared, charging towards her in anger. It had a new target.

Mantis dodged, firing smaller bursts of energy to keep its attention. She was agile (years of Martial Arts training paid off), and the Bulborb was slow to turn. For a moment, she was holding her own, a cosmic guardian fending off a garden pest of monstrous proportions. Absurd, but effective.

But she could feel her energy waning. The Life Energy could hurt it, irritate it, but it wasn't enough to put the Bulborb down.

"It is too thick!" Mantis realized, her breath coming in gasps. "I cannot break its spirit while it is this enraged!"

The Bulborb lunged, its maw gaping. Mantis dove, tumbling through the grass. Think! 

As the Bulborb lunged for a lethal bite, Mantis reached into her pouch and crushed a glowing, bioluminescent seed. "Sleep, you gluttonous beast!"

She threw the spore directly into the Bulborb’s flared nostrils. The creature froze mid-snap. Its giant eyes drifted shut, its legs wobbled, and with a thunderous thud, it collapsed into the dirt, snoring loudly.

Olimar and Alph didn't waste a second. The sight of their fallen Pikmin had steeled their resolve.

“NOW!” Olimar’s voice was a blade of pure command. No panic, only ruthless opportunity. His whistle shrieked through the air, the attack signal!

Alph, tears of rage and relief streaking his face, echoed the call. “For the fallen! ATTACK!”

From the grass, from behind pebbles, from the leaf litter, Pikmin emerged. Fifty of them, mostly Reds, their eyes glowing with fury. They swarmed the Bulborb like angry ants. They climbed its sides, hammering at its flesh with tiny, relentless fists. They pummbled their natural enemy with extreme prejudice.

The Bulborb snored on, oblivious, as the avalanche of tiny warriors did their work. It twitched in its sleep as its health was whittled away by a thousand paper cuts of pure, collective fury.

Mantis stood panting, watching the swarm. Her anger subsided, replaced by a weary awe. They were finishing the fight. Olimar and Alph directed the assault with military precision, calling out targets, cycling tired Pikmin out of the fray. On this planet, even the gentlest creatures had to become monsters to survive.

With a final cry, the Bulborb’s body dissolved into a spray of light and a few leftover pellets, the strange rules of this world asserting themselves.

The victory was sweet, though tasted of iron and dirt. The victorious Pikmin gathered, chirping softly now, many injured, all exhausted. They had won. But Mantis's antennae drooped slightly. The cost...

"You did it, Miss Mantis!" Alph cheered, running up to her with such excitement he nearly tripped over a pebble. "I’ve never seen anyone fight a Bulborb like that! You saved us! You saved the whole squad!"

Olimar walked over to Mantis and nodded slowly, his respect for the "Guardian" clearly solidified. "Efficient, precise, and surprisingly compassionate. Your combat prowess is... unexpected, given your empathy. And the sedative was inspired. I am in your debt, Miss Mantis."

Mantis looked at the scattered Pikmin, feeling their pain, their loss, their quiet triumph. She knelt, her energy spent. “I could not let them die,” she said simply. “They are our army. But more than that... they are our friends.”

The Yellow Pikmin, who had hidden in the tuff of her hair during the fight, crawled back onto her shoulder. The other Pikmin were cheering, circling her as they danced.

It was a wave of pure, unfiltered positive feeling, a psychic warmth so intense it was like stepping into a sunbeam. Mantis gasped, a tear of overwhelmed happiness slipping down her cheek. It was almost too much, this pure, collective love from a hundred simple hearts.

Mantis felt her antennae twitching wildly. The sheer volume of joy and relief coming from the fifty-plus Pikmin was like standing too close to a cosmic engine. "Please," she laughed softly, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of green. "I am a Guardian. We protect those who cannot protect themselves. Always."

Olimar let out a long, slow exhale, the rigid line of his shoulders slumping just a fraction.

“Regardless, it was a decisive victory,” he stated, his voice carrying a newfound, profound respect as he looked at Mantis. “Your intervention was the critical variable. I had underestimated the combat applicability of empathic life-energy projection.”

Alph was less reserved. “Miss Mantis, that was incredible! Thank you! Thank you!”

Mantis, still kneeling, accepted the gratitude with a gentle, weary smile. The Yellow Pikmin in her lap nuzzled her hand. “It is what we do,” she said softly, the mantra of the Guardians feeling both distant and immediate. “The Guardians of the Galaxy protect life. All life. Even the small, and the… leafy.”

Then a drop of water hit her nose. Then another. They all looked up.

The sky turned dark. It's raining, they all thought. A mild inconvenience.

"Rain?" Alph asked, looking up fearfully. "Wait... that’s not a cloud."

And he was right. In fact, the sky itself seemed to be... tearing. A violet rift split the air, writhing with unstable energy.

And from the tear, they descended. Not raindrops, but Shadow Bugs. Once they touched the ground, they formed into two-dimensional multicolored stick figures. They swarmed like metallic locusts.

“Subspace Mites!” Olimar blurted out, his voice laced with shock. “But… the Subspace Army was neutralized! The Emissary was closed!”

"They feel... empty," Mantis said, her voice dropping to a whisper. She recoiled from the psychic void they projected. "There is no hunger here, only a directive. They are like puppets."

Mantis rose, her empathy instantly parsing the new threat. These things had no hunger, no fear, no joy. They emitted only a hollow directive: erase.

She looked at Olimar, feeling the jarring recognition in him. “You know these enemies.”

Olimar’s helmet snapped towards her, his expression grim behind the visor. “Yes. They are the foot soldiers of the Subspace Emissary. They were confirmed destroyed when we defeated Tabuu. But their presence now can only mean one thing: Galeem has scavenged the remnants of that old war. and is repurposing it for its own ends.”

"The rules of this world can be cruel sometimes, Miss Mantis," Alph said, stepping into a wide stance. "But we have to fight. We have to hold the line!"

There was no more time for talk. The Mites swarm towards the source of life below... towards them.

“Form up!” Olimar commanded, his fear sublimated into tactical clarity. “Reds, forward defensive line! Yellows, high-ground, use your arcs! Blues, protect the flank near the water!”

Alph, swallowing his terror, echoed the orders, his voice gaining strength. “We need to break their formation!”

Inspired by Mantis's earlier bravery, the Pikmin rallied. Reds waddled forward, forming a living wall in front of her legs. Yellows scampered up onto a nearby discarded cup to get better throwing angles. And the Blues formed a protective semicircle around her back, towards the puddle.

Alongside following Olimar and Alph's orders, they were protecting Mantis, their Guardian.

Mantis felt their resolve, a mirror of her own. She looked at Olimar, then at Alph, and gave a single, determined nod. Her hands glowed once more with soft, green energy, not for a massive blast, but for precise, debilitating strikes.

She was not a fighter. She would prefer if they didn't fight. But in times like these, violence is unfortunately the answer.

“Then we fight the past and the future at once,” she said, her voice steady. “For the Emissary that was, and the Light that threatens to be.”

Mantis raised her hands, her Life Energy crackling between her fingers, casting a protective green glow over her tiny army.

"They're coming from all sides!" Alph yelled, pointing at the wave of purple static-bugs surging through the grass.

"Let them come," Mantis replied, her eyes flashing. "They will find that the Guardians of the Galaxy—and the Captains of the Stars—do not break easily."