You had only glimpsed the mirror once. A tall, golden-framed pane, tucked into a hidden room in the temple. It only took the one time, though, for your goddess to turn you away from it, forbid you from ever approaching it.

Not that her ban was needed. The stories she told you-of how it led to another realm, a twisted place even more hostile than your own home, as dangerous as it was-were more than enough. The mirror was relocated, somewhere else in the temple, hopefully away from prying eyes, and you'd never have dared to look into it afterwards.

So you continued your work. Trying to protect your realm, and the realm of mortals, from the invasion of the Underworld army. Your goddess would instruct you where to go, what to do, and you'd follow, no matter how painful it was. For you knew that she merely wanted to protect the humans, the same way you did. You fought for them, would've given your life for them, for her. Oh, sure, your goddess wasn't the kindest of people, but she gave you a home, a meal every night, and something to do with your life, an outlet for your, as she would sometimes put it, 'delusions of grandeur.' Delusion or not, the thought of the mortals-weak, defenseless, but full of hope-that your work saved always filled you with pride. Of course, you'd never be allowed out of Skyworld long enough to get to see them much… And when you finally were, there wasn't exactly a lot of them left…

You were trying your best, you'd keep telling yourself. At first, even the first failure, the first human you couldn't save, would keep you up at night, mourning your loss and kicking yourself for your incompetence. But it only got worse as the war drug on, to the point that you'd begun donning black mourning garb for your battles-though you'd claim to your goddess that it was for the sake of stealth, not wanting to be mocked for your weak constitution. By the end of the war, after so many years… It didn't bother you anymore. It couldn't bother you anymore.

Especially when they reached Skyworld.

You'd barely even returned to Skyworld, dragging yourself to one of the teleporters your goddess had left. It had been hours since you had heard from her, since you were struck, falling in combat. The fact that the Underworld had left you alive was a miracle-or, as you later decided, a cruel joke on their part.

They had already cleared the area by the time you got there. Nobody was left-no civilians, no centurions, and your goddess was nowhere to be found. As much as you wished otherwise, the sinking feeling in your gut said that this wasn't a hostage situation; there'd be no rescuing her as there had in the past. She was gone. They were all gone.

It wasn't until you'd spent more than a hour pacing the now-ruined temple, the horror seeking in as you did, that you felt the tugging at your mind. It was impossible to pin down the exact source, but at the same time, you felt compelled to follow it, deeper into the ruins of the temple.

(Of course, there was no way to have heard your goddess make that pact not long ago. A deal to keep those immediately on the other side content with their own realm, the promise that, if mirror images of one creature from each realm were close enough to the mirror at the same time, then they'd be drawn to cross-over. She'd hoped that, given the location of the other side of the mirror, there'd be no chance of two of a kind coming that close to each other, but she'd doubted the wiles of the Goddess of Calamity.)

Oh, the sick, bubbling hatred in your gut, staring down that mirror. You could feel yourself shake as you ran a hand over your surprisingly-solid reflection, which was tempting you to flee your ruined home. Abandon the world you failed to save, it seemed to cry, and venture elsewhere. Flee like the coward you are.

It became too much. Hot tears threatening to spill, you backed away, then charged the pane of glass, taking a flying leap as you prepared to strike it.

For a brief moment, before your vision went dark, you thought you saw your reflection vivid red eyes flash a bright blue.


The first thing you noticed as you struggled to keep your footing was that the floor beneath you looked nothing like that at home, and, quickly putting two-and-two together, the realization that you'd crossed over by accident hit you at a million miles an hour.

The second thing you noticed was yes, that was the sound of the mirror shattering behind you.

Through your own flurry of thoughts, you heard a voice behind you, and hesitantly turned to face it. Before you stood another angel-quite similar to yourself in build, and wearing a plainer version of your ordinary white-and-red garb, but his hair was lighter, his wings were a pure white, and you could faintly make out those same blue eyes your reflection had shown.

The other angel backed away slightly, clenching his weapon tighter, while you felt a different presence, something unlike anything you'd ever felt, slide up behind you. After a moment, the feeling of unfamiliarity was replaced by a sick remembrance. Underworld. This being was an Underworld monster.

You could faintly hear her trying to persuade you to join her, to lash out against the angel in front of you. But you were no fool. Even in this other realm, this depraved netherworld, the malice of the Underworld Army was still clear to you.

It took so little time to lash out, striking with the same weapon that had failed to protect your home. It didn't take much longer for you and the other angel-seemingly an enemy of the Underworld himself-to destroy the Goddess of Calamity you'd heard so much about. You'd thought it'd be harder than this.

The boy next to you smiled, and it sent a chill down your spine. He was a warrior, on par with yourself it seemed, and yet… He smiled. How could somebody who'd seen the same things you had, been subjected to such horrors, keep a smile on their face?

The words of your goddess came flooding back-about how the other realm through the mirror would lull you into a false sense of security, how it would put up a mask of gentleness and light, only to plunge the knife into your back, twisting it with that same sort of smile on its face.

You wouldn't give it the chance.

Any guilt you might've felt from hurting him faded, especially once it sank it that this 'angel,' this foul beast, had taken on your own face to try to tempt you into complacency. You only felt a bittersweet satisfaction as he skidded across the floor, while you made your escape, into a world in which you didn't belong.


Within a week in this new realm, you felt a smile-a true, real smile-cross your face for the first time in over a year. You'd been stripped of your flight for so long, you'd forgotten how good it felt. Even if it had led to some… less-than-fun thoughts.

Don't argue with her. Don't speak her name. Don't go anywhere without her permission.

Who knows what'll happen this time?

You'd have given your life to protect people. And she used you.

Perhaps that trip through the mirror was worth it. You were free. Your goddess-you'd have never dared say it before, but you were better off without her.

But as much as the freedoms of this realm were growing on you, it still... didn't make sense. Nothing about this realm made sense to you. How could its residents feign happiness through everything?

He called himself Pit. He claimed your name as his own. As if that weren't enough, the Goddess of Calamity had him convinced that you were some copy of him. As much as you longed to, you didn't dare correct it. If there was any chance of getting home, you knew that this other Pit and his goddess would tear it away from you if they could. You couldn't let them catch on.

Not only that, but you wouldn't let them think that you'd abandoned your home on purpose, especially with the deathly amount of loyalty the other Pit showed to his own home. Maybe it was just a ploy to eat away at your morale, show him as… as better than you, or maybe it was genuine, but you didn't care. They were sick, the whole lot of them.

Gods, but the thought of the other Pit being better than you had crossed your mind more than once. His realm was still standing; he wouldn't have let his goddess fall, the way you had. He would've done anything for her…

"-I don't care if my wings burn up!-"

...Except this one time.

Your legs shook beneath you. You had almost considered being claimed by the Chaos Kin a mercy. After all your failures, perhaps you deserved it.

But he didn't.

There was no reason. No reason to turn back and save you, and yet he had. It made you nauseous, trying to make sense of it. You'd made up a little white lie, embarrassed at being stolen yourself and afraid the 'clone' story was falling apart, and tried to pin the blame for your loss of three years on him. It was also the best way to explain away why you were helping him-it wasn't because, after seeing what happened while he and his goddess were gone, then seeing the way he fought to right things…

He was no monster. No lying, vile, diseased creature. He was a hero.

Better than you had ever been.

Where you had failed to save your realm, he saved his. And where you had run away, he'd thrown his life away to save a former enemy.

On your knees in front of his cot, gently running your thumb over the lifeless hand in your grasp, you were hit with the realization that your goddess had lied to you. Of course she had. You should've seen it coming. Even after realizing the many ways she used you, you never even thought as to whether she was honest about the other realm.

And as if on cue, you overheard his godde-Palutena pacing back and forth outside the door, desperately trying to find a way to revive him. Because where your goddess had left you to rot, hoping a diversion would save herself from the Underworld, his goddess was fighting the odds to bring him back.

Bring him back.

You didn't deserve this. Maybe you didn't deserve a second chance when you first came through the mirror, and you certainly didn't deserve it after spitting in its face so many times.

But you'd take it. Another chance to help people. Starting with the first person to have offered his hand in kindness, back when you entered the Labyrinth.

You could faintly hear Palutena calling out for 'Dark Pit' as you ran for the armory. A thin smile flashed on your face briefly, before setting your mind back on your mission.

That name was certainly starting to grow on you.


A/N: *Slides back into the Kid Icarus fandom with more AUs and Pittoo angst*

...I'm back. With a funky, weird, no-real-reason-behind-it AU concept. I'm bad at explaining things, so hopefully the 'fic did the job for me.

And yeah, it's inspired by the Mirror World from the Kirby series, since it was a neat concept and, if the Kid Icarus and Kirby series can cross over in Smash, then the possibility of something like the Amazing Mirror being in the Kid Icarus 'verse isn't too odd, right...?

Yeah, IDK. And speaking of Smash, if I DO manage to make the full story for this work, then it'll technically be a SSB 'fic, albeit with focus on the Kirby and KI crew. Please lemme know if you're interested, though! It's a strange concept, but I think it could be fun.