Taranza slid back, barely keeping his balance. Meta stood before him in a battle stance, but his eyes lacked any real malice.

"Finally I meet the original. Your reputation precedes you, Sir," Taranza said, bowing slightly. Meta blinked, then offered a short bow in return.

"I apologize for the circumstances under which we now meet," he responded. Behind him, Dark quietly freed himself from the silk, landing on his feet. Taranza snapped his gaze to the man and shot another blast of silk towards him. With a brilliant flash Meta unsheathed Galaxia and intercepted the web, which burned away into cinders on contact with his blade. Dark then lunged at Taranza, kicking the embers into a whirlwind with his movements. Meta quickly grabbed the back of Dark's coat and flung him backwards, sending him tumbling into the wall.

"Let me have my revenge," Taranza said evenly, all six of his hands now glowing a purplish color. Meta flicked his gaze between the two combatants, shifting his stance to allow a view of both.

"There are more pressing matters to attend to," he said, carefully watching Dark as he slowly stood. Dark's eyes were still a vibrant crimson, and they now glowed brightly enough to bathe his cheeks in a reddish hue.

"This is my only chance to make him pay before he escapes!" Taranza shot back, the magic around his hands growing steadily brighter.

"The fate of both kingdoms is at stake-"Meta was cut off as the two once again charged at one another. Dark sent a jagged wave of glass at Taranza, who deftly shattered it with a blast of magic. There was a ripple in the air around Dark as a mirror-clone materialized next to him, and Meta saw his opportunity. He grabbed the arm of the clone and flung it into Dark, knocking him backwards but not off his feet as the sound of breaking glass echoed through the room.

"You fucker," Dark snarled, wiping blood away from the fresh cut across his cheek. Dark drew his own blade and darted towards his new target. Meta grit his teeth and flourished his cape. Dark's eye went hazy for a moment as something he could not comprehend occurred before him. Meta then reappeared behind Dark and grabbed his arm, twisting it painfully behind him.

"Will you two stop fighting like children for one moment!?" Meta roared, pushing Dark's arm further into his back. Taranza let the ball of magic in his hands dissipate and looked sheepishly at the floor.

"Ow ow ow! Fine, just let me go!" Dark squawked, stumbling forward as Meta released his grip. He shook out his arm, glaring at Meta.

"We must access the Mirror-World to prevent a great threat from being unleashed," Meta explained, turning to Taranza but keeping an eye on Dark. Taranza searched Meta's eyes for any sign of deceit and found none.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"They're going to let a very dangerous person out of her prison who can possibly destroy both of our worlds," Dark interjected, holding a hand over the cut on his cheek. Taranza put a hand to his chin, deep in thought.

"They're right, Taranza. Let em go," Dedede said, walking in through the open throne room doors. He surveyed the shattered glass scattered around the room, and the blood seeping down Dark's face. "You just can't behave yourself, can ya?" he added, looking at Dark.

"He attacked me first!" Dark snapped, pointing at Taranza.

"For once, he is not lying," Meta added.

"Look, we just really need that shard. I know you're suspicious, but I know Meta. And Meta wouldn't ask for the shards if it wasn't real serious," Dedede said, ignoring the two knights. Taranza gave Dedede a long look, and then sighed.

"Alright," Taranza said, no emotion in his tone. He walked to the throne and retrieved the shard from behind it, handing it gently to Dedede. Dedede gave the shard an intense look before handing it off to Meta.

"You two get goin'. I'll stay here for a lil bit," he said, giving Taranza a concerned look. The man's expression was totally blank.

"Of course. I will contact you when this is resolved," Meta said, slipping the shard into his cape. He strode quickly out of the room, followed closely by Dark. The two men practically jogged to the Xiphos, with Dark matching Meta's frantic pace.

"Why're you running?" Dark asked, standing beside Meta as the staircase extended from the plane.

"This entire area smells of grief. I can sense it," he muttered, darting up the stairs as soon as they stopped moving. Dark followed, frowning deeply.

"You can sense that sort of stuff?" he asked.

"Somewhat. I can only sense negative emotions," Meta responded. He then gestured towards a seat. "Sit."

"Why?" Dark said, sitting before he could really process the command. Meta reached into his cape and procured a small first-aid kit and a small towel. He tossed the towel to Dark.

"I do not know. Clean your wound before you get blood on the upholstery," he said flatly. Dark gently cleaned the cut on his face, taking care to not restart the flow of blood. Thankfully, the towel was plush and soft, allowing it to not catch on the scab forming over the cut. He then handed the soiled item back to Meta, who grabbed it with no hesitation. "It is only blood," he muttered, noticing Dark's disgusted expression. He swiftly stuck the towel in a plastic bag from his cape and slipped it back into his pocket dimension.

"You still shouldn't be getting your hands all over it," Dark said. Meta shrugged slightly, opening the first-aid kit and retrieving a bandage.

"Are you indicating that you carry some sort of disease?" Meta teased, peeling open the package and pulling off the backing of the bandage.

"I'm not diseased you bastar-"Dark was cut off by Meta roughly grabbing his chin and pressing the bandage over the cut. He was quickly released, but his cold skin still burned with heat where the other's gloved hand had been.

"There. It was bothering me," Meta said coldly, turning and heading to the cockpit. Dark touched where the other's hand had been, scowling as he felt the heat radiating from his cheeks. In the cockpit, Meta gazed at his hand for a long moment, his fingers still slightly cooler than usual from Dark's icy skin. He shook his thoughts away and hopped into the captain's seat, grabbing the intercom.

"Next stop: Dedede's castle," he intoned, voice crackling through the speakers.

(Dark and Taranza is always angst. This is gonna be updating daily by the way.)