It had been a relatively uneventful morning for Bobby the sailor and his fellow workers in Ricco Harbor.

   At least, compared to yesterday.

   Ever since Gooper Blooper had been put to sea by that outrageously gutsy human guy, the harbor had been reawakened with the standard busyness of seafood trade: huge ocean liners moved in and out of the port all morning, loading enormous crates with thousands of pounds of cargo (AKA fish), and construction had semi-resumed on the storage tower (the foreman could always find excuses not to be working). If you could hear yourself over the shouting sailors and the noise of clanging metal and honking cargo ships, you would realize it was just another boring, normal day in Ricco Harbor.

   Until the human guy returned.

   Bobby and his co-worker had been assigned to sort and pack fresh catches by the loading zone on the west side of the harbor, where a transport vessel was already docked and waiting for the ten crates of calamari it had come to pick up. It was a fairly relaxing job compared to the other guys', who were stuck cleaning the animal cages in some of the other ships.

   At any rate, with Gooper Blooper gone and his horrid black ink gone with him, the harbor couldn't afford to sit still any longer. They had a few days' deficit to make up for, and Captain Jenkins was not a patient man.

That was why Bobby was so busy working he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary until his friend pointed it out.

   "Hey Bobby, you remember that crazy daredevil guy?"

"Uhh, yes?"

"...He's up on the catwalks again."

"What?" Half-dropping the crate he was moving, the surprised pianta turned back to stare up at the metal frameworks hanging high above the shipyard, from here appearing as a massive hodgepodge of blue and red beams. From where they stood near the entrance to the subway station, it took more than a good minute for Bobby to figure out what his companion was talking about. Bloopers—regular sized ones—sometimes ended up crawling around up there, stray ones having slunk out of the underlying ships or climbing the equipment straight out of the water. Their movement was a common enough sight on the catwalks, but—

Finally Bobby spotted him: a small humanoid figure, little more than a speck from down below, moved across one steel girder towards the hanging cage in the center. He was barely discernible and far beyond earshot, but one look at the way he carelessly leapt from one beam to another confirmed any doubts.

"It's that little dude!" Bobby exclaimed, stopping his work now to rest a fist on his hip. "What's he up to now?" Sharing a glance with his co-worker, he added, "I hope that beast didn't come back!"

The other pianta shook his head, squinting to watch. "Naw, if he had, Captain Jenkins would be throwing a fit," he said. "I just wonder how he's going to climb that cage?"

"...Cage?" Bobby asked. "What do you mean?"

"Yeah," his friend replied, pointing. "See, he's trying to get on top."

"...What are you talking about, no he's not," Bobby frowned, shielding his eyes now. "He's all the way back at the fruit tanks."

There was a second of confused silence as the two piantas tried to make sense of each other.

"OH, I see..." Bobby realized, catching sight of what his friend was talking about. "But..." He trailed off, eyes flitting back and forth now across the high girders.

"What the world?"

Bobby turned, wide-eyed, to stare at him. "Wait a second... If he's there, then who's that guy??"

~

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

Whatever Mario had expected to come from pursuing Shadow Mario, it was not to be ignored or unnoticed. He knew that it was between him and the kid and no one else as he chased Junior down the mountain, leaping the wall and forgetting about the piantas, forgetting about Petey, forgetting everything but his need for closure.

This had to stop.

Ideally, Mario would have liked to 'stop' things far before his double had reached the base of the hill, but he'd gotten a good head start and Mario had no such luck. Before he and Fludd knew it, the sea was opening up before them and the messy tangle of ships and machinery spread out below. Junior had made it to Ricco Harbor.

Only slowing in his steps for a second, Mario stared ahead at the port city and felt determination surge through him. We're not letting him get away!

Half-running, half-tumbling down the last stretches of hill, Mario felt his resolve pick up along with his velocity. Jumping a short fence to arrive at last onto the flat roofs of the buildings that lined the eastern end of the harbor, Mario barely managed to scramble to a stop at the edge of one.

He remembered this place; all at once he found himself staring down at the wide concrete courtyard with the giant painted design of a compass on it: the battleground where he had once fought Gooper Blooper (for the first of what felt like far too many times). Now, it was spotless and quiet except for a few strolling workers.

Snapping his head up to the girders across the way, Mario spotted his target: paintbrush still in hand, jumping and wobbling with the gumption of a child who hadn't been around the block too many times, Shadow Mario was making his way out over the harbor. What is he doing? Mario wondered.

He didn't have to wait long to get his answer. Quite abruptly, as if he'd realized he was at a safe distance, Junior stopped and whirled around, shouting across the gap to tease him.

"Hey, Mr. Nosey! Had enough yet?"

   "No!"

   The kid waved the end of the brush at him as if he were a pesky fly. "Well, too bad! 'Cause I have! And I think it's time you got yourself a solo ice cream and left my family alone!"

   Mario's eyebrows lowered. "It's not called ice cream..." he said loudly, not caring if the kid could even hear him. "It's gelato!!"

   "That's true," Fludd supported him.

   "Whatever! Now listen, I've gotta get back to Delfino Plaza," Shadow Mario continued, sliding his foot along the metal beam. "So I've got another game for you: either you can keep chasing me for no reason, or you can come get this!" With a sudden leap of triumph, he raised an arm and held up a brilliant, golden object.

   "One last shine sprite!" Fludd exclaimed in Mario's ear, nearly hurting his eardrum.

   Last? Staring at the glowing medallion that dazzled even in the bright sun, Mario felt his stomach churn in anxiety. Do I need that? ...He might be bluffing. But I probably do!

Junior wasn't going to stand around and let him debate. Before the human could make any moves, he suddenly pulled the shine back into an unseen pocket and wheeled around towards the catwalks.

"Come and get it!" he taunted.

Although he hated the attitude, Mario was all too happy to oblige. Looking around quickly, he scanned the area for the quickest way onto the scaffolding. He soon spotted it: the thin bridge that stretched across from the top of one roof to the giant twin tanks that stood over the water. From there, he thought he could get a clean jump to the girders where Junior was.

Instantly heading in that direction, Mario found that the place was a bit more alive than it had been when he cleaned up yesterday. Before he knew it, he had nearly collided with a couple of pianta men surveying the tower from the rooftop through a pair of binoculars.

"Urgh, my throat hurts so bad," muttered one, the foreman. "I don't feel like working."

"Yes, that's a shame," the older man next to him, dressed like a sea captain, remarked. "We need to complete that last layer of bricks on the third level, see? You could put—

He was cut off as a small but heavy force suddenly slammed into him from behind.

"Whoa there, Eager Mcbeaver! Watch your step!" the pianta exclaimed, lowering his viewfinders. "This is a...

   "Mario?" he cut himself off. "Well, if it isn't Mr. Incredible himself!"

"Captain Jenkins?" the boy questioned back, blinking up in a moment's surprise at the older seaman. "...I can't talk now, I've gotta get out onto the catwalks! There's—

"Well, well, is Gooper Blooper at it again?" the captain adjusted his hat. "I'm sure it'll be no problem for you. He was just a big cream puff, in the end, wasn't he?"

"Uhhh, not exactly," the boy replied, unheeded.

"Gooper Blooper?" the pianta next to him, the foreman, spoke up in excitement. "Well then, guess it's time to stop working! Yep yep!"

"Nonsense, he wasn't a problem before," Captain Jenkins snorted. "And compared to me, that thing was a complete lightweight!"

Mario didn't have time to play their games. "I'm sure, captain, but that's not it; you see there's this guy who—

"Speaking of, youngster," the captain interrupted. "How'd you get around so fast? Weren't you just on top of that steel girder over there?"

"Yes—I mean no—

"But now, you're here, which means... that wasn't really you!" Captain Jenkins put together. "You're you! Wait, who ARE you??"

"I don't have time to explain!" Mario waved him off, turning for the hanging platforms. "Sorry!"

He continued along on his way down the row of buildings, aiming for the stone archway that would be his bridge across. Casting frequent glances across at Junior, he kept an eye on what his opponent was doing. So far, all he seemed to be doing was running around like a maniac asking for trouble.

Mario had just about reached his goal and was stepping out onto the narrow ledge when a small, innocent voice called out behind him.

"Hey! Mr. Mustache...!"

...Me? Please not me, the human thought in exasperation, stopping to glance back. Sure enough, the call had been addressed to him, by a young pianta boy standing only a stone's throw away on the rooftop adjacent to him.

"Where do I find the station? My troupe leader said to go there if we get lost," he said earnestly, stepping forward now. "I think my group left without me."

Huh? Slightly intrigued, Mario turned back now to face him. The boy was young, probably only about eight or nine—or whatever the equivalent was in pianta years—with orange skin and a small hat and a neat green uniform that reminded Mario of nature scouts or something.

"Oh, uh... the train station's that way," he answered, pointing off towards the west end of the harbor. "All the way at the end by the big colorful garages, I think."

"Thanks, sir," the boy replied, looking grateful but still unsettled. "Oh, and Mr. Moustache! I've got a favour to ask. I'm here all on my own, so... Won't you walk with me to the station?"

Mario blinked. World record for bad timing? "I'm... I don't think I can do that right now, kid," he said uncertainly, painfully aware of Junior's clanging footsteps behind him with every passing second.

"Oh... it's true what my leader said," the boy remarked, talking apparently to himself. "The world's a pretty unforgiving place."

Ow. That one hurts. Instantly guilty, Mario paused and turned toward the boy a bit more seriously.

   "No no, it's just that I'm in a big hurry right now, trying to catch that guy who looks like me," he explained with more patience than he thought he possessed. Pointing out to the catwalks, he gave the kid a nervous smile. "He's got something that he stole!"

   Instantly intrigued, the pianta searched the girders eagerly. "Ohh... Well hey, mister, that's no problem! I can tag along and help you on the way!"

   Now Mario felt an uncertain cloud settle over him. He appreciated the kid's trust—but was that really a good idea?

  No choice. With one last glance over his shoulder at Shadow Mario doing gymnastics on the framework, he turned to the boy and nodded firmly. "Alright, you can come along," he said. "But it might not be pretty."

   "Alright! You're a good guy, Mr. Mustache," the boy praised, coming forward. "I'm Rownie, by the way. I'll do my best to stay behind you. Just don't leave me behind, okay?"

   Mario tried his best to keep the anxiety out of his grin as he looked at him. "Okay, but I don't know if I can..." He trailed off, an idea coming to him. "Wait a minute. Maybe you can help!"

   "Well, that's what I said," the boy replied with a shrug. "What do you need, mister?"

   Mario turned back to the catwalks and scanned the area, a determined glint coming to his eyes. "I need you and me to cut that guy off and get the shine sprite from him. Do you think you could block that path?"

   "Me? Oh boy... I mean, sure I could, but it looks a little high up," Rownie observed.

   "Yeah, but there's clean water below," the adult pointed out. He noted how Fludd had not said a word in this conversation and wondered why.

   "That's true. Okay, Mr. Mustache, as long as you promise to take me to the train station afterwards," Rownie agreed.

   "Promise," Mario replied, slapping a fist on his chest.

   "Thanks a bunch, mister," the kid said gratefully as he dug into his shirt pocket. "I don't really like being all by myself in this place..."

   "How long have you been missing?" Mario asked.

   He shrugged. "Maybe ten minutes? I dunno, it feels like forever! Oh yeah, and here," he added, producing something from the pocket. "You can also use this. I saw your big water jet pack and thought it might come in handy out on those beams."

   Curious, Mario accepted the child's offered gift. At first he had no conception of what he was holding: it was small and made of blue plastic and metal, seemingly screwed together into a pistol-shaped machine of some sort. It had three silver blades on a rotor on one end, almost like a miniature fan or—

   "Is this part of a motorboat engine?" Mario marveled.

   "Haha! It looks like it, doesn't it? That's my turbo jet that goes to my big water gun I built in scouts," Rownie told him proudly. "But a buddy of mine is holding on to the gun, so that's all I've got. If you think you can use it to stop that guy though, give it your best shot, mister!"

   Would that actually work? "So it... propels through the water," Mario figured, inspecting it again.

   "Yup! I bet you could move super fast through the ocean with that thing! Or maybe even on dry land, who knows? But promise me you'll give it back after, ok? Scout's honor!"

   Glancing from the nozzle to the boy and back again, Mario nodded in agreement. "Sounds good," he agreed at last. "Thanks, kid!"

   Quickly removing Fludd to attempt a swap-out with the rocket nozzle, Mario briefed the boy on his mission. "So that guy is wearing a disguise," he explained. "He's trying to blame me. But believe it or not, that's just a kid—he's probably your age."

   "My age?? Wow, my teacher was right too," Rownie gawked. "Anyone can be a criminal nowadays."

   Mario, pleased to see he'd had a successful nozzle transaction, stood and strapped Fludd back to his waist. The gun accessory—he was calling it the turbo nozzle—had screwed on spectacularly, although it was a tad small compared to Fludd himself. Mario wondered if it would actually work the way Rownie said.

   "Okay, sunshine's wasting. Let's a-go!"

~

One of the many simple wisdoms Mario had always heard from his mother was that if you were going to do something crazy, don't drag others into it.

He always found that one strange, because from Mario's personal experience, he found that dragging others into a crazy idea usually made it turn out even better than it would have.

Such as now, as he threaded his feet along a steel girder some twenty yards over the shipping port below, while a distance away, on the parallel beam across from him, the pianta boy he'd picked up on a random rooftop did the same. It seemed to be working just fine so far.

Not that he thought the kid was expendable. He just had confidence that everything would be fine.

Fludd, with Rownie out of their hearing, was having a ball of it too.

"Mario, I highly discourage this and I don't recommend it to anyone at home," the pump lectured as his owner half-sidestepped down the walk.

"Well, we're not recommending it to anyone at home," he replied.

"I was referring to the child," Fludd replied.

"He's doing great too," Mario said, mentally shrugging (although he couldn't for fear of throwing off his balance). Glancing across at Rownie, he flashed him a brief thumbs-up. The boy, too cautious to move his arms, gave him a small nod and looked ahead to where the target was climbing a pole.

"And besides, now you've got that new gadget! What do you think?" Mario asked encouragingly.

Fludd moved the strange little rotor, which now constituted his head, and almost paused as if in thought. "It is not quite the work of Professor Gadd, that is for sure," he remarked. "But we will have to see when you use it!"

Mario, full of confidence, didn't reply. Is he jealous of the kid? he wondered. Mario thought that he might be jealous if someone else used Fludd, but he didn't think it possible for the machine to be jealous of someone else.

At any rate, and despite his mother's warnings, the operation was going great so far. Signaling for Rownie to break off in another direction, Mario came to a narrow wall of wire netting that extended upwards and wrapped around a small observation platform. Above him, Shadow Mario was a speck against the sky, climbing steadily higher towards the large yellow cage-like structure that hung over the middle of the harbor. Mario had seen it before, but he couldn't guess what it was for.

"Hey! Don't go running around there!" an indeterminate voice from below rang out beneath his feet—probably a stray sailor who had spotted him. "It's not safe!!"

   "Do you suppose Mario is going to listen to that advice?" Fludd asked aloud, and Mario thought he was being sarcastic.

   He had a point though. Without looking back, Mario grabbed hold of the wire netting, threading his fingers through the holes and locking his elbows in an attempt to pull himself up the wall. It reminded him instantly of the rickety catwalks in Pinna Park behind the Ferris wheel—only this time, there were no electrokoopas snapping at him.

   That didn't mean he was entirely without troubles. All at once the whole netting shook with Mario clinging onto it; when he looked up, he realized a white blooper had climbed up and wound itself on the opposite side of the wall. Grinning to himself, Mario climbed up to it and pounded the wall with a fist, sending the blooper falling back with a squeak into the harbor below.

   Mama mia, I don't remember this place being so precarious, he thought to himself as he worked his way to the top of the wall and pulled himself to a momentary standstill. Squinting up against the sun's glare, he eyed the hanging crane that moved back and forth along a track up ahead and gathered himself.

   "Mario—

   He had already leapt, trusting himself to the work of gravity as he sailed across a small gap, fell downwards and slammed into another netted wall. Somehow working his fingers into the spaces, he caught himself there and proceeded moving along to the right without missing a beat.

   The yellow cage loomed right above them now, and so did Shadow Mario—pausing just a moment to look up through the cage, he spotted the figure with the paintbrush standing leeringly on a steel girder shortly overhead. Planting his staff into the floor, Junior looked down and laughed in that irritating voice.

   "Hahaha! You look real impressive from here, Slick!"

   Mario glared, unable to make any moves until the swinging crane came back around. "It feels weird to be so angry at someone who looks so much like me," he stated to Fludd, wringing his fists around the metal. "And I'm saying that as a twin!"

   Fludd angled his head around, confused. "What do you mean?"

   "I mean it never seemed this strange when I get mad at my twin, and we look kinda similar."

   "What do you mean?" Fludd asked again.

   "I meant my other twin," Mario breathed absentmindedly, preparing to jump from the wall to the approaching crane.

   "You have a third twin?" Fludd asked, clearly incredulous now.

   "Yes—No. It doesn't matter right now!" Mario exclaimed in a grunt of exertion, launching himself from where he hung out to the swinging pole of the moving crane. His jump was well-timed enough—his body hit the pole with a loud thud—but before he could get a firm grip on it he began to slide downwards towards the empty hook. Quickly counteracting this by wrapping his legs around the thick pole—which he could barely reach around—Mario began to shimmy upwards. Elsewhere, below him, Rownie was nearing the yellow cage and watching intently, as if for a signal.

   "Hey, Big Meanie! What's the holdup?" Junior taunted, staring down at him.

Mario, reaching the top of the pole, slung one arm over the horizontal beam and hung there awkwardly, legs dangling. Trying to catch a breath with the metal bar cutting into his ribcage, he met the kid's unnaturally glowing gaze with hardened eyes.

"How long has your father been putting you up to this??" he wanted to know.

Junior scoffed.  "Uh, since you started getting in the way! Dad hates your guts!"

That's one way to put it. "So do I, when I have the indigestions," the human quipped.

Shadow Mario sneered down at him, making Mario unsure if he had understood him.

Either way, he hadn't got the information he wanted. "You're the one who's been causing all those creatures to terrorize the island, aren't you?"

"Woah, you figured that out?? You're so smart!" the boy praised mockingly. Then he turned a bit more menacing. "You've been causing my dad a lot of trouble for ages," he scolded. "But this time, he's letting ME take care of business! And it's gonna be a real mess if you don't back off!"

Mario slammed his fist onto the edge of the platform, trying to pull himself up in as cool a manner as possible. "Where's Bowser?" he demanded.

   "Like I'm gonna tell you that!" Junior scoffed again.

   "He's here, isn't he?" Mario grinned smugly. "Well I have something to say to him!"

   "Dad doesn't want to see you! So pop off!"

   So weird to hear someone refer to Bowser as 'Dad'. Mario didn't respond, but his actions spoke loud enough: he had all but pulled himself up at Junior's feet and rose, eye to eye with his young doppelgänger at last. For a few seconds, Mario began advancing on him, trying to make himself bigger than his double.

You're the same size, his brain told him. But Mario didn't care. Looking up close into those glowing eyes for the first time, he was surprised and even pleased to realize that they were truly nothing like his own. The irises were there, but they were a brilliant red that melded into an unsettlingly bright white pupil. They were the only part of him that seemed to have any character apart from the shadowy blue cover; even so, they seemed designed to make it difficult to tell where he was looking.

Aside from that, every inch of the shadow man—right down to the width of his shoulders to the shape of the eyebrows to the darkened M on his hat—were a carbon copy of Mario himself. It was downright weird... and disturbing, as he now realized, looking into the scarlet eyes.

  I was never meant to be a bad guy... was I? Mario wondered briefly, suddenly mesmerized by the shadowy figure. The thought left an impression on him, prompting him to look further. He seemed competent, the man he saw before him: agile and strong and clever, but something wasn't right...

   He was arrogant, and not in a flattering way. This Shadow Mario was desperate for something, but lacking and unhappy, and it had made him cruel. Beyond all that, (Mario could see now as he stared into the shadow's eyes) he was selfish—and that could make anyone detestable. Even me.

   A rush of reason came back into his head at that moment, filling Mario with conviction. But of course not. No one's ever meant to be a bad guy.

All at once Shadow Mario lifted a hand: the shine sprite once again tinkled temptingly over his head. Holding out the paintbrush ahead of him like a sword, the vandal scooted back a step, only to realize he'd hit the edge of the small platform.

Mario put his hands on Fludd's handles. "Alright kid, give it up," he said pointedly.

"I told you I have business in Delfino Plaza," Junior grouched back at him stubbornly. "I don't have time to play your games. Here—Catch!"

Mario had anticipated that the kid would make some sudden movement. He'd kept Rownie's turbo nozzle locked and loaded, in position for when the time was right—just such a time as this.

He hadn't quite anticipated, however, that Junior would throw the shine away, pitching it up into the air with a sudden swing of his arm. Mario saw it go arcing away in a golden streak across the harbor, but it was too late for him to do anything.

He had already jammed down on the handles, causing the tiny turbine to spin—

SPLOOSH!

In a half second gush of blink-and-you'll-miss-it water, Mario felt his feet rushed out from under him as he rocketed forward, slammed right into Shadow Mario, and then met with empty air.

From there it was a straight plummet to the water below.

Rownie, witness to the entire escapade from where he stood not far away, gasped as he saw the two collide before tipping, paintbrush and all, over the edge.

"Mr. Mustache!" the pianta scout yelled. "Uh-oh." A thought suddenly striking him, Rownie glanced around and promptly headed off.

Let go of the water pressure! a warning flashed through Mario's head. Good idea. But by the time he did, it was far too late to take anything back.

"Way to go, genius!" he heard Junior snarl at him. Then they were submerged.

Lost in the sea of bubbles at first, Mario couldn't make out where Shadow Mario had landed. Kicking upwards, he quickly broke the surface.

A few feet away, Junior was treading water and coughing up more, battling to keep his head over the surface. Buoying himself upwards on Fludd's naturally floating design, Mario instantly made a beeline for him.

   Shadow Mario, though visibly struggling to stay afloat, would have none of it. Lifting his magic paintbrush out of the water over his head, the kid glared over at him one last time.

   "Curses! I won't forget this!" he snapped. Then, with a huge, wide swing of the staff, he slung the paintbrush across the water's surface in a circle around him, sending both water and bluish goop spraying in all directions. Mario knew what that meant—

   And he watched in helpless exasperation as the portal appeared, swallowed his enemy up like a rabbit down a hole, and vanished.

   Then he'd gotten away again!

   "No!" Throwing a fist in anger, Mario sent a wave of water nearly splashing up into his face. Why does it...?!

   "Foiled again," Fludd observed. "I suppose there is nothing for it. I am sorry, Mario. We will have to keep to the plan!"

   His owner, who was ready to throw a small fit, stopped abruptly at this. "The plan?" he questioned.

   "The plaza? You said we would try opening the Shine Gate." Fludd was very patient.

   All at once the lightbulbs went on in his head. Junior had said he was heading for the plaza anyway, hadn't he? Well then, I'll meet him there!

   "Oh, yeah! Let's go!" Looking around now, Mario realized that he needed to get back to shore and up onto the higher level again—that kid had to be waiting for him. But what was the fastest way...?

   "Hey Fludd, what did you think of the turbo nozzle?" he asked now, a grin coming to him.

   "I think it should only be used in large open areas, where dangerous things such as what you just did cannot happen," the pump replied.

   "Oh, like right here?" Mario asked, before aiming himself for shore and opening fire.

   In the blink of an eye the pair rocketed from a standstill to a speeding bullet across the harbor. Mario could feel the hum of the tiny rotor spinning on his back, chopping up the water behind him like an immensely powerful fan. As a result, he was sent speeding along the water's surface like on his own personal jet ski, water billowing out in two waves behind him.

   Laughing through the spray and foam that shot up in his face, it was almost all Mario could do to hold on to Fludd as they passed underneath a large hanging submarine. He kicked his legs behind him, but it was only out of habit rather than necessity: this thing felt like it could easily haul loads more. Now this is a way to travel!

   Unfortunately, since they covered distance so quickly, it was all too soon that it had to come to an end. Climbing back to the concourse by means of a small moving lift supported by a crane, Mario chuckled at his machine's feigned indifference.

   "Come on, Fludd, it's pretty amazing! At least a little."

   "It certainly takes a lot of power," the pump allowed, causing his owner to laugh. I think he really is jealous!!

   Remembering Rownie, Mario turned back to business. He looked around for an easy way to return to the rooftops and soon spotted it: the manholes!

   He wasn't positive because he hadn't tested it before, but he was willing to bet that the underground water line ran up through the buildings and probably had a ladder somewhere that opened up to the roofs. Saying so, he informed Fludd of his plan as he lifted up the nearby metal manhole cover.

   "It is a most unorthodox plan," the machine replied, "but since it worked before, and there's truly no stopping you, I agree."

   Sitting on the edge and dangling his feet into the unknown darkness, Mario simply smiled. "Great!"

   Sewers were all just about the same as far as travel was concerned. Pulling the lid with its stylized crescent moon over his head, Mario dropped down to the dank corridor and listened to the sounds of water dripping off him into the liquid below. Then he turned and followed his gut down the path.

   His breath hit the still air in a subdued way that made him question his precise surroundings. Running one hand along the stone tunnel wall, Mario moved through the darkness until he reached the break in the path he'd been waiting for. Peering into the dead-end ahead, he just spotted through the gloom an upwards-reaching ladder mounted into the wall. Bingo!

"Mario," Fludd spoke up suddenly, sharp voice echoing loudly off every enclosed surface. "Do you think it may be unwise to go to the plaza now?"

Startled at this, Mario's steps faltered only for a moment. "Why?"

"Because it is obviously what Junior wants," the machine replied. "I'm almost certain he is leading you to something bad."

"He probably is," the human shrugged as he grabbed hold of the cold ladder and began pulling himself up. "But that doesn't matter. We've gotta get to that Shine Gate and deal with whatever it is he's doing down there."

"True enough," the pump replied.

"Alright, hang on," Mario grunted, reaching the top of the ladder. Using only the daylight that came in through slits in the manhole cover, he tried to find the grooves and push it off. No such luck. Feeling all around on the ceiling, he frowned and tried harder.

"Is it stuck?" Fludd asked.

"I don't know," Mario replied, shoving his shoulder against it, and oblivious to the conversation that transpiring just inches above his head.

"Come on mister, we have to move these crates!" an urgent-faced Rownie was urging the pianta worker next to him, who happened to be the lazy foreman. "He's coming up out of the manhole!"

"All the way up here? Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, I saw him! Just help me, please," the scout begged, pushing on one of the boxes himself.

"Alright alright, calm down. So it's just like it is in the movies, huh?" the foreman asked, who for all his shirking was still impressively strong. "Remember the scene?"

"Um... no?" the boy shrugged.

"Where he's trapped under the manhole, but there's something on top of it!" the pianta clarified, shoving aside a pile of crates that had been distastefully stacked. Sure enough, as soon as it had cleared the cover, the manhole burst open, perhaps a bit more forcefully than needed, and Mario burst out onto the rooftop, dripping like a sewer rat.

"...Told ya," Rownie said. "Mr. Mustache, are you okay??"

"Kid, you made it back!" Mario exclaimed, crawling out and sitting on the rooftop in exhaustion. "How'd you get back here?"

"Uhh... that's a good question! These things just happen, sometimes, y'know?"

Mario gave him a lopsided grin. "Yeah, I do."

"I saw what happened out there," the boy continued. "But look, I got your shine sprite!" Holding up the gold prize, he beamed just as brightly.

Now Mario was impressed. "Wow, you did! Thank you!" he exclaimed, the surprise apparent on his face. Springing up in one quick motion, he stood and accepted it from him.

The pianta foreman, who was standing there uselessly unacknowledged, spoke up then. "Yeah, this kid just started pestering me about you coming up out of that hole and stuff... Guess it was good I believed him!"

Mario snickered. "Yeah, pretty good." He winked at Rownie.

"You're the one who took care of Gooper Blooper yesterday, too, weren't you?" the foreman asked now. "I've been meaning to mention this, but your jumps are amazing! You're no beginner, are you? How long have have you been at it?"

"Gooper Blooper? You mean the big thing that was in the ocean yesterday??" Rownie repeated in disbelief.

Mario chuckled now, embarrassed. "Um, I don't know, I've been jumping for... ever?" he shrugged one shoulder. "I guess... a couple of years, competitively," he added, not sure if that was a correct way to put it. I mean, fighting Bowser is pretty competitive!

Mario had used to be revered for his jumps all the time back when he was in school. He had played on almost every sport team imaginable back in his day, and managed to excel at them all.

"Wow, that's amazing," Rownie marveled. "But we've still got somewhere to be! Anyway, pull yourself together and let's head to the station!" he tugged Mario's arm.

Grinning, Mario turned back to the boy and allowed himself to be pulled off. Why does he remind me so much of me?

~

   "Oh man, that was scary," Rownie chattered aloud as he and Mario made their way across the courtyard towards the cargo center. "I hate being by myself... Hey, are we at the station yet?"

   "Almost," Mario chuckled, amused by the boy's enthusiasm. Whose kid is this, anyway?

   "So you really brought down the giant blooper, huh? Is that what he said? Wow, he was the reason my field trip got postponed! So I guess I oughta thank you!" Rownie beamed.

   "Hehe, you're welcome? I'm just trying to bring some order back to this island... a lot of crazy stuff has been happening lately." Pausing for a moment, Mario looked at the white pavement passing beneath his feet and felt a pleasant calm at being able to talk to someone who wouldn't judge, wouldn't question. If the world were run by kids...

   "Wow, so you're a pretty busy guy!" Rownie observed, before losing his train of thought at the sight of a familiar set of doors. "...We're here! We're here! This is it, Mr. Mustache!" He ran excitedly up to the station and yanked on the door. "Thank you, thank you!"

   Grinning in reply, Mario held the door and followed Rownie inside.

   The Ricco Harbor train station was about the same as Mario remembered it, only now it was more crowded: numerous sailors lounged about talking and sipping drinks, and a large touristy-looking group of children—Rownie's group, based off their identical uniforms—was gathered in one corner around a pianta lady who seemed to be in charge. On Rownie's entrance, she looked up and heaved a sigh of relief.

   "There you are! Mister, you almost had me thinking we'd have to call the police!"

   "Don't worry about it, Miss Clay! Mr. Mustache here brought me over!" With these assuring words, the pianta boy turned back to his brief chaperone. "Thanks for letting me tag along and help you stop that guy. We made a good team, didn't we?" he asked proudly.

   Mario, unsure why, got onto one knee and placed a hand on the kid's shoulder. "Sure did! Thanks for saving that shine sprite for me. I'm sure I can use it."

   The leader, Miss Clay, rushed over to their little scene. "Alright Rownie, it's time to board the train," she said encouragingly. Glancing to Mario, she added, "And thank you so much for helping him."

   Nearby, a pianta sailor who looked familiar for some reason spoke up. "Wow, first Gooper Blooper, now a lost kid? I never thought the word 'hero' would apply to you," he mused, eliciting a skeptical stare from Mario. "...But now I do! Thanks for being such a stand-up guy!"

   Well, that's better, I guess. Shaking his head, Mario smiled and reached for Fludd's belt. It was time to give the controversial turbo nozzle back.

   "You're the guy who stopped Petey Piranha up in Bianco Hills too, right?" the sailor kept talking now. "There was a news report about it yesterday. I heard somebody cleaned the whole windmill."

   "Really? I heard that some mustachioed guy rescued the mayor of Pianta Village," another bystander put in.

   Rownie was now staring at the human beside him, eyes wide. "Can I have your autograph?" he asked suddenly.

   Mario, feeling strangely assaulted by the sudden praise, pretended to cough. People knew about him? Not just for the stuff he didn't do?

   Turning to Rownie first, he smiled and accepted the Ricco Harbor pamphlet the boy offered him—the only paper he could afford. Producing a pen from somewhere, he stood back and watched in excitement as Mario scrawled his name onto it; then, as if a joking afterthought, he laughed to himself and added over the top 'Super'. 

   Mario had signed a few autographs before—he wasn't sure if he would ever become good at it, mostly because he'd never practiced a fancy signature, and it also just seemed strange to be asked. But he couldn't deny that he liked it, and he was eager to get his number higher if he could.

   Looking over the pamphlet with satisfaction, Rownie nodded firmly. "Thanks, Mr. Mustache. You know what? You can hold onto my nozzle. Scout's honour!"

   Surprised, now it was Mario's turn to say thanks. "Really? Your turbo engine?"

   Rownie nodded again. "Yup! You really need it, I can tell. No problem!"

   Unsure what to say, Mario relaxed his hands on Fludd's handles and smiled again. "Thanks!"

   "Train number three to Delfino Plaza is departing in ten minutes," an automated female voice rang over the loudspeaker.

   Turning back to his group, Rownie waved at his friends. "Well, Mr. Mustache, I guess this is goodbye. That's our ride!"

"See you around, kid," Mario waved. "Thanks for the help!"

He was standing just a moment to watch the group move off when abruptly, like a child had slammed the microphone on a table, the loudspeaker crackled out again.

"Attention passengers for train three to Delfino Plaza. All trains in and out of the capital have been delayed until further notice. We are awaiting an update on the situation and we apologize for the inconvenience."

Raising his eyebrows, Mario glanced around the station. Well I guess that answers that. It was only when he was thinking about his next move, and what he needed to do, that the meaning of the words really sank in.

...Delfino Plaza? Delayed?

Mario widened his eyes and whirled to the door. Junior!!

"Aw, bummer," someone was saying.

"I wonder what it could be now??"

The hero was out of there!

~

The sun outside shone blindingly bright off the loading area side of the harbor as Mario ran out of the train station, passing right by Bobby and his partner as they loaded a small canoe with fresh catches. Without a word, the tiny human ran up to the slope where the boats pulled up, waded knee-deep into the water, and took off. Igniting some sort of jet pack or propellor on his back, he blasted off and seemed to tear away through the ocean and off towards the horizon in just a few seconds.

As the agitated water trails he left in his wake began to abate, Bobby turned to his companion. "Well that's something you don't see every day," he remarked.

Water droplets and fresh ocean wind sprang upwards to meet his face as Mario sped across the sea view, feet kicking behind him beneath the turbo nozzle's churning power. It shot his body forward in a streamlined direction so quickly that he almost felt as if he were barely touching water, just lightly gliding across its surface. His newfound toy, while undoubtedly blasting through gallons and gallons like they were nothing, was probably Mario's favorite mode for Fludd so far.

He tried to tell the pump so over the gushing of white waves that threatened to drown him out. "Isn't this great??"

"Yes, very optimized water travel," Fludd replied, voice getting chopped up in the spray.

   ...He doesn't agree, Mario thought amusedly to himself.

   There wasn't much to debate about now. With the trains out to Delfino Plaza, he had no choice but to get there the old-fashioned way: by water. Luckily, Ricco was within swimming distance from the far shore.

Doing his best to keep his head up, Mario aimed for the distant buildings of the seaside plaza, which were just up ahead. It had been a little while since he'd seen the plaza, but he would recognize the rising spires of the bell towers and the Shine Gate from anywhere.

It was good that he recognized those, because they were about all he saw.

As he and Fludd rapidly grew closer and closer, Mario noticed a few things subtly. The first was that the water seemed to change somehow, its consistency or flow or something; it was almost like they were battling uphill waves, getting higher as he sped along.

Another thing he noticed was how the sky began to darken, the previously open blue above Ricco Harbor turning quickly into a cloudy, grayish cover above Delfino Plaza. Although it had been the norm a couple of days ago, all of the sudden it felt strange.

What's going on? A storm?

The buildings along the western side were within reach now; he looked around for a moment for the boathouse, the western cannon, anything familiar. But all he saw was a row of shingled clay slopes and roofs, sticking up almost like rafts atop the water.

   Where is...?

   Finally letting go of Fludd's handles, he came slowing to a stop like a dying engine as he approached the would-be shore. Quickly losing all momentum in the water, Mario sprang forward and paddled the last few feet, reaching out for the hovering overhang just above him. His heart was already working a mile a minute in creeping dread at what he knew he was seeing; his mind was too reluctant to draw the conclusion.

   Throwing his foot up with some difficulty over the roof ledge, Mario managed to pull himself from the water. Grabbing onto the hard shingles like hand and knee holds, he scrambled up towards the apex of the roof that sloped above him. He had to look, had to see—

   Fludd, who had been either silent or merely too occupied with the turbo to acknowledge him, suddenly turned his bladed head around as best he could. "Mario! D.E.B.S. Alert!!"

   But his piercing cry fell on deaf ears. Mario had mounted the narrow tip of the building's roof and risen, half-straddling, half-standing, to gaze into the plaza beyond, and the sight he saw below was like something out of a newscast itself.

   Delfino Plaza was halfway underwater.