Pit was dreaming.
It was a nice dream—soft clouds, warm sunlight, Palutena humming somewhere nearby. There were no tournaments, no brackets, no apex entities turning people into abstract concepts. Just peace.
Then the world exploded.
BOOM.
Pit yelped as the bed vanished beneath him. He tumbled off the mattress, wings flaring instinctively as his head bounced against the floor.
"OW—!"
The room was filled with smoke, scorch marks climbing the walls, and a very familiar smell of ozone and burned metal.
Pit groaned and pushed himself upright. His vision swam for a second before focusing.
Snake stood near the door, arms crossed, completely calm, as if the room hadn't just partially detonated.
"Morning, roommate," Snake said evenly. "If you're wondering about the explosion, that was just Ridley and Sephiroth having a disagreement."
Pit stared at him.
"…A disagreement?"
Another shockwave rattled the ceiling. Black feathers drifted down like ominous snow, followed by the distant sound of something metallic being embedded into a wall several rooms away.
Snake checked his watch. "Third one this week. They're improving. Less structural damage."
Pit slowly got to his feet, rubbing the back of his head.
"I live with who, exactly?"
As if summoned by the question, the door slid open. Sephiroth glided past the doorway, immaculate as ever, holding a teacup that hadn't spilled a single drop. A scorch mark followed him like a shadow.
Behind him, Ridley's massive silhouette slammed into the far wall of the hallway, followed by a hiss of irritation.
"You fight like an amateur," Sephiroth said calmly, sipping his tea.
Ridley snarled something untranslatable and stormed off, claws scraping the floor.
Pit watched all of this in stunned silence.
Snake glanced at him. "You get used to it."
"No," Pit said quietly. "I don't think I do."
He glanced at his bed—what was left of it—then at the cracked wall, then at the ceiling that was definitely not supposed to have a hole in it.
"…I miss my wives."
Almost on cue, his wrist chimed softly.
A warm glow wrapped around him, gentle and familiar. Palutena's voice echoed faintly through the magic. "Good morning, Pit. We felt a disturbance. Again."
Viridi's voice followed immediately after. "Let me guess—someone tried to kill someone before breakfast?"
Phosphora laughed. "Ooo, was it the dragon or the edgy angel this time?"
Amazon Pandora didn't bother hiding her amusement. "You're still alive, so I'm assuming you behaved."
Pit smiled despite himself, shoulders relaxing as the chaos around him faded into background noise.
"Yeah," he said softly. "I'm fine. Just… Smash House stuff."
Palutena sighed, fond but worried. "Pit, remember—this separation is temporary."
"I know," he replied. "I can handle a month."
Another distant explosion punctuated his statement.
Snake raised an eyebrow.
Pit corrected himself. "…Probably."
There was a brief pause on the line. Then Palutena's tone softened. "If it becomes too much—"
"I'll come visit," Pit said quickly. "Promise."
Viridi snorted. "You'd better. Watching you deal with this place is half the entertainment."
The connection faded, leaving Pit standing in the wrecked room.
He exhaled.
Then he squared his shoulders.
"Okay," he muttered to himself. "I've survived gods, monsters, wars older than paper, and the end of the world multiple times."
He looked toward the hallway where another crash echoed.
"I can survive roommates."
Snake smirked faintly.
"Welcome to Smash Life, angel."
Pit looked around as he looked around. "Things can't make chaos".
Ren then came out of the bathroom after freshening himself up. "Will, it might, hey if you want to escape from this room, you can help the ones making breakfast".
Pit didn't hesitate.
The moment Ren finished speaking, Pit was already halfway out the door, wings flaring as he muttered a rushed prayer. Light washed over him, smoothing rumpled feathers, fixing his tunic, and brushing away the lingering ache from yesterday's fight.
Anything was better than that room.
Behind him, another crash echoed—metal scraping, something large roaring, and Sephiroth's calm voice saying something that absolutely did not sound calm in context.
Pit shut the door.
"Breakfast," he whispered like a vow.
The dining hall was already alive.
Too alive.
The long tables were filled with fighters from every wing, conversations overlapping into a steady roar. Smoke rose from multiple cooking stations. Someone—Pit refused to identify who—had set part of the buffet on fire. Again.
He spotted Palutena immediately.
Of course he did.
She stood near the central table, radiant as ever, calmly directing a cluster of goddesses and future wives (Even do nobody knew) like a seasoned general. Viridi was arguing with someone over seasoning. Phosphora was stealing food directly off plates. Pandora was laughing like she'd started the fire on purpose.
Pit's shoulders relaxed the instant he saw them.
He drifted closer.
Palutena noticed him first. She turned, eyes softening, and opened her arms without a word.
Pit didn't even pretend to resist.
He leaned in, resting his forehead against her shoulder as a warm glow wrapped around him—gentle, steady, grounding. The kind of healing that didn't show up as numbers on a screen.
Viridi glanced over. "Wow, you survived the finals and your roommates? Impressive."
"Barely," Pit muttered.
Phosphora slid in on his other side, grinning. "He looks like he lost harder after the fight."
Pandora handed him a plate already piled high. "Eat. Heroes brood less when they're fed."
Min Min waved awkwardly from across the table, one arm stretching just a little too far as she tried to reach a condiment. Rosalina nodded politely. Lucina pretended very hard not to stare.
Pit sat.
Instantly, the chaos adjusted around him.
Not stopped—just… redirected.
Viridi climbed onto the bench beside him. Phosphora leaned back against his shoulder. Pandora claimed the seat across from him but hooked a foot around his ankle anyway. Palutena remained standing behind him, hands resting lightly on his shoulders.
Pit exhaled.
"This," he said quietly, "is why I didn't want to win."
They all paused.
Palutena tilted her head. "Because you feared Mr. Game & Watch?"
"No," Pit said. "Because if I won, I'd have had to go back out there."
Viridi snorted. "Fair."
Across the hall, reactions varied.
Link stared at the scene in silence, chewing slowly.
"…Do you need help?" he finally asked.
Pit looked up, genuinely confused. "With what?"
Link gestured vaguely at the cluster of goddesses, demi-gods, warriors, and future apocalyptic beings surrounding him.
Pit smiled.
"This is help."
The girls shifted closer.
Link looked away.
At another table, Snake sipped coffee, eyes narrowed.
"So that's Smash Life," he muttered.
Ren, seated nearby, shrugged. "He's stable. That counts for something."
Sephiroth, calmly stirring tea despite the scorch marks on the ceiling above him, added, "Stability does not mean harmless."
Snake grunted. "No. It means contained."
They all watched as Pit laughed—soft, unguarded, surrounded by affection instead of armor.
The room shook again as something exploded in the kitchen.
Pit flinched.
Palutena gently patted his head.
"Eat," she said. "You'll need your strength."
Pit obeyed.
And for the first time since arriving at the Smash House, he felt like he might actually survive living here.
Pit then looked at Min Min and Lucina. "So, um, I don't think we probably meet".
Min Min looked at him as she spoke. "We did meet in the tournament, and talked in the winner's wing".
Pit looked at her as he continued. "Yeah, I know that, just um, didn't expect your two, to be in the same table as me and my wife's".
Lucina looked as she took a bite of Bacon. "The other tables were full, and your goddess allows us to stay".
Pit realises how his words sounded as he waves his hand. "No wait, I didn't mean it like I was annoyed or anything".
Pit froze for half a second after Lucina's words sank in.
Your goddess allows us to stay.
He laughed a little too fast and waved his hands. "No—no, that came out wrong. I meant, uh… I'm just not used to guests at breakfast."
Min Min snorted, twirling a fork through a bowl of noodles that definitely hadn't been on the buffet five minutes ago. "Relax, angel boy. You're not the first guy to panic when he realizes he's surrounded."
Viridi, already seated beside Pit, leaned back in her chair with a smug grin. "And you won't be the last."
Phosphora appeared out of nowhere and slid into the seat on Pit's other side, her shoulder pressing against his arm. "Honestly, you handled it better than expected. Yesterday you nearly fainted just meeting Min Min."
Pit's face went red instantly. "That was different!"
Amazon Pandora, lounging across from him with her boots propped on an empty chair, smirked. "Sure it was. Yesterday you were nervous. Today you're territorial."
Palutena, seated at the head of the table like she owned reality itself, calmly sipped her tea. "He isn't territorial," she said gently. "He's adjusting."
Lucina glanced between them, then nodded with a small, respectful smile. "I understand. Where I come from, shared tables usually mean shared responsibility."
Min Min tilted her head. "And shared chaos."
As if on cue, something exploded in the kitchen.
Everyone paused.
A moment later, smoke drifted into the dining hall, followed by Kirby waddling out with a chef's hat on his head and a frying pan twice his size.
"Poyo!"
Sora's voice echoed from somewhere above. "Kitchen incident number thirty-seven! New record!"
Pit stared at the smoke, then at the table full of gods, warriors, future wives, and accidental roommates.
"…Yeah," he muttered. "I'm definitely adjusting."
Viridi reached over and flicked his forehead. "Welcome to Smash Life, angel."
Phosphora grinned. "Don't worry. Compared to this place, the tournament was the easy part."
Pit leaned back in his chair, surrounded on all sides, the noise, the warmth, the chaos pressing in all at once.
For the first time since losing the match, his chest didn't feel tight anymore.
Maybe he hadn't won the finals.
But somehow—
He smiled.
He'd landed somewhere far stranger than heaven.
Pit blinked as three oddly cheerful figures passed by their table—one with a sword, one in boxing gear, and one holding a blaster. All three waved in perfect unison.
Pit stared after them.
"…What are those?"
Lucina followed his gaze and sighed into her coffee. "Miis. Trust me, even we don't fully understand them."
Min Min leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms casually. "They're like… customizable people? From Sora's world, I think. He says they're 'player inserts.' Whatever that means."
Pit frowned. "So they're mortals?"
Lucina hesitated. "Technically."
Pit frowned deeper. "But also not?"
Min Min nodded. "Exactly."
Pit decided, very wisely, not to think about it.
A moment later, Meta Knight drifted past the dining hall doors, cloak torn, followed by Wario loudly complaining about unfair rules, and Kirby bouncing behind them both like nothing had happened.
Pit watched them go. "…Is this normal here?"
Palutena placed a hand on his head, patting gently. "Pit, this is Smash."
Viridi grinned. "You'll get used to it."
Pit wasn't sure if that was comforting or terrifying—but as his wives gathered close, the noise of the house buzzing around them, he decided one thing was certain:
He might not win every fight.
But he could survive Smash Life.
And honestly?
That already felt like a victory.
Pit then looked at Luncina. "So, like outside of the tournament, what do the fighter do in there free time".
Lucina answers him with a noble like grace. "When, the tournament are not happening, many fighter do different things, train in the gym to sharpen there skill, play games with Eachother, or doing.... Other activities if they are couples".
Pit stared at Lucina for a long second after her explanation.
"…And now I have that image," he muttered.
Lucina paused mid-bite, then coughed politely into her hand. "My apologies. I should have chosen my words more carefully."
Min Min snorted, lazily twirling a noodle around one finger. "Too late. Angel brain's already traumatized."
Pit groaned and covered his face with both hands. "Why does this place keep doing this to me?"
From behind him came a familiar, warm voice—far too amused for his liking.
"Oh, Pit," Palutena said lightly, as she ate her food. "You'll get used to it."
Pit looked up at her, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. "Yeah. We'll see about that."
Viridi, seated across from him, snorted into her drink. "You say that now, but give it a week. Two, max."
Phosphora leaned over his shoulder, smirking. "Honestly, I'm more surprised you lasted this long without running back to us."
Amazon Pandora didn't bother hiding her grin. "He did run back to us. Emotionally."
Pit opened his mouth to protest, then paused.
"…Okay, maybe a little."
That earned him a chorus of smug looks.
Lucina watched the exchange quietly, her expression thoughtful rather than judgmental. "Your bond is… impressive," she said after a moment. "Most fighters here struggle to balance combat and companionship."
Min Min nodded. "Yeah. A lot of people crash hard when they lose. You?" She tilted her head toward Pit. "You've got an entire recovery squad."
Pit scratched the back of his head, suddenly shy. "I mean… I've lived a long time. You learn what keeps you steady."
Palutena smiled softly at that—not teasing this time, just proud.
Before the moment could linger too long, a loud crash echoed from somewhere deeper in the house, followed by Ridley's unmistakable screech and Sephiroth's calm, irritated voice arguing about "structural integrity."
Pit flinched.
"…Is that normal?"
Ren's voice drifted in from another table, deadpan. "Very."
Pit stared at the ceiling, then slowly exhaled.
"…I miss Angel Land."
Viridi leaned back in her chair, grinning. "Too late. You're in Smash Life now."
And somehow—against all logic, sanity, and structural safety codes—Pit suspected she was right.
To be continued.
Hope people like this ch and give me power stones and enjoy