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Green wind swept across the hills.
Green Greens remained peaceful as always. Gently rounded mountains cut into the blue sky, wildflowers swayed in every color, and somewhere in the distance, Tweety-birds sang in lazy harmony. Scars of conflict had no place in this land. And yet—
A tremendous roar tore through the peaceful air.
A large, round vehicle with wide black tires cleared the hill in a leap, mowing grass, kicking up dust clouds with each pound against the earth. Sounding like a shriek, the engine roared in fury—it was Wheelie.
Wheelie had once been the Halberd's power source, imprisoned within a mass of steel. Days of running in cramped quarters, forced to move the massive battleship regardless of his own will. It was that pink round guy—Kirby—who ended it all.
Freedom.
Before his mind could understand, his body moved. Run. Just run. The iron walls no longer existed. The circuits connected to the reactor were gone. Green Greens stretched endlessly before him, with nothing to obstruct the way.
But—
Meta Knight was trying to protect Dream Land in his own way...?
Someone aboard had said that. The masked knight had acted to defend this country. Building the battleship, gathering a crew, and attempting a coup—it had all been driven by some kind of conviction.
"...Don't mess with me."
Wheelie growled. He pushed the accelerator harder.
Protect? Use someone else as a tool to protect the country? Treat them like machine parts, like a power source? Was that the "justice" that masked knight spoke of?
He couldn't accept it—anger swirled in the depths of his being, transmitting directly to the accelerator as Wheelie's speed increased further. Grass bent beneath him, dirt burst into the air, and even the wind seemed to tremble.
That's when—
"Reckless driving."
The voice descended.
Low and quiet, yet carrying irrefutable weight. When Wheelie looked up, a pitch-black shadow hung in the sky. A dark blue cape billowed in the wind, golden eyes looking down at him. Meta Knight was there.
He must have been on patrol. With his gaze fixed straight on Wheelie, the knight continued quietly:
"If someone gets hurt, what then? Slow down."
"—Wh—WHAT!?"
It was terribly calm advice. That very calmness poured fuel on Wheelie's anger.
He couldn't bring himself to brake. Spinning his tires to face Meta Knight head-on, Wheelie screamed from the depths of his being:
"You're the one who was being reckless! I haven't forgiven you yet!!"
Words burst across the grassland. Bronto-Burts startled and flew from branches, but Meta Knight didn't flinch.
That very stillness infuriated him, and Wheelie's words wouldn't stop:
"L-Look! If you're willing to admit your mistake and apologize to me, I might... just might consider forgiving you..."
Even as he spoke, he felt his words becoming pathetic, but he couldn't back down.
Apologize. Admit what happened that day, bow your head. That's all.
But Meta Knight—fell silent for one beat, two beats. His mask tilted slightly.
"Whether I was right or wrong... that conclusion has not yet been reached."
Something unusual mixed into that voice.
Not hesitation, exactly—but something like weight.
"Would an insincere apology satisfy you? If so, I shall apologize."
"Wh-Who'd be satisfied with that!?"
Wheelie roared. Heat flared deep within his tires.
He didn't want a hollow apology. He wouldn't be deceived by something like that.
"I won't listen to anything you say, you—IDIOT!!"
After that proclamation, the engine shrieked, and the tires accelerated wildly. The fluttering of the cape receded into the distance—he didn't look back. He wouldn't look back.
Wheelie raced beyond the green hills.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The next morning, Green Greens was peaceful once more.
The same blue sky. The same green hills. Tweety-birds sang, wind blew gently, flowers swayed. As if nothing had happened—and that angered Wheelie all over again.
He hadn't slept well that night.
When his eyes closed, he saw the dark power chamber of the Halberd. Himself connected to the circuits. Trapped in an inescapable, cramped room. Days of being forced to move ceaselessly, his own will irrelevant. And those words from the masked knight.
'Would an insincere apology satisfy you?'
"Like hell it would..."
Wheelie muttered and increased his speed.
He'd run today too. Run and run, shaking off this murky feeling in his heart. The engine roared, the tires gripped the earth, and like yesterday—no, faster than yesterday—Wheelie raced across the hills.
Scenery flowed past. Grass fell before him. Dust scattered.
Then the hill opened up ahead.
In the green flatland, a small blanket was spread. On it, several small, round shapes. Waddle Dees. They seemed to be enjoying a peaceful picnic—taking food from a basket, lying down, a scene straight out of a picture of a carefree afternoon.
Or it had been—
"WHOA—!?"
One of the Waddle Dees noticed. Its face turned pale.
Wheelie noticed too.
"Br-Brakes won't make it in time—!!"
He tried with all his might to stop. His tires scraped the ground, a burned smell rising sharply. But the speed, the distance—no matter how he calculated it—wouldn't work in time.
At that instant, a shadow ran.
A dark blue cape tore through the air, golden eyes fixed straight on Wheelie. Meta Knight. Kicking off from the ground, closing the gap in an instant—his kick slammed into Wheelie from the side, sending him flying.
When Wheelie closed his eyes, impact thundered through him.
His tires bounced hard, veering off course, barely missing the Waddle Dees' blanket before plunging into the grass. As the world spun and he regained his bearings, only dust clouds lingered in the air.
The Waddle Dees were safe.
When he opened his eyes, they stared at him in stunned silence. A basket had tipped over, but no one appeared injured.
Wheelie stared at that sight for a long moment.
Something caught in his heart.
...He protected them. Dream Land's people. That masked knight, without hesitation, had rushed out to—protect them?
The Halberd. Creating the battleship. Using Wheelie as a power source. Despite all that, did this knight really try to protect someone in this country?
Did he really...care about the country?
He couldn't process it, didn't want to acknowledge it. But what he'd just seen was undeniably fact.
"...Why didn't you cut me down?"
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
In the drifting dust, Meta Knight descended in front of Wheelie. His cape fluttered quietly, and his masked eyes fixed on him. Looking closer, he wasn't even holding his sword ready.
"Were you hoping to get punctured instead? I can arrange that next time."
That voice—wasn't angry. Wasn't even exasperated.
There was something else mixed in, something subtle that Wheelie couldn't quite name.
Wheelie fell silent.
Grass rustled softly. The Waddle Dees began gathering their things, saying "Th-Thank you!" with relieved expressions. In the distance, a Tweety-bird sang.
He felt like he should say something. But what? Should he thank the masked knight? The one who'd used him as a power source?
He still refused to forgive him, and he wasn't ready to say he forgave him yet—
"J-Just don't expect me to thank you!!"
The words burst out like a shout. Even Wheelie didn't quite understand what he meant.
Meta Knight's expression didn't change—not that you could tell through the mask anyway—and he answered quietly:
"Do as you wish."
That was all. Just that, yet somehow the catch in his heart loosened just a little.
Wheelie started his engine. He almost hit the accelerator, but hesitated for just a moment.
Then—he drove off slowly. Different from yesterday's speed. Not kicking up dirt, not mowing grass, just barely cutting through the wind. One tire rolled quietly through Green Greens' green landscape, growing distant.
Meta Knight watched for a moment, then flew upward into the sky.
Neither forgiveness nor reconciliation—yet something had undeniably changed on that peaceful afternoon as the gentle wind swept across the hills.