[Darkness. The faint sound of a slow drip can be heard. As the camera slowly comes into picture, the jagged silhouettes of stalagmites can be seen. Moving past those, a single ray of light littered with motes of dust illuminates a ruined throne made of basalt, and that can mean only one thing; we’re in the lair of Martillo Negro de la Muerte, the breathing apocalypse.]
MARTILLO NEGRO DE LA MUERTE: Numero uno..
[We hear his gravelly voice before we see him, but as the camera pans around, his massive bulk fills the frame almost entirely. He sits slumped, nonchalant, the pommel of his massive warhammer resting beneath his gigantic hands.]
MARTILLO NEGRO DE LA MUERTE: The only man among a legion of boys who had the power to go out and stake my claim. While these weak whelps wish to be the last entrant, I marched forth and _took_ my spot.
[He slowly drums his fingers on the armrest of the throne.]
MARTILLO NEGRO DE LA MUERTE: And in claiming my spot as the number one entrant at Super Smash Masks, I’ve secured the right to strategize for this war in any way I see fit. What is it that you take me for? Do you think me foolish? I am like no other man, I have no equal, and none among you have what it takes to put the beast down.
[He slowly sits forward on the throne, steepling his hands below his chin.]
MARTILLO NEGRO DE LA MUERTE: No, no.. the beast will always remain the beast. Just as the conqueror knows the lay of the land before he conquers. At Super Smash Masks, my choice to enter at number one will not be a detriment to me, but to you all. When my reign of terror starts on that night, the end will only happen when I allow it.
[He slowly rises to his feet, the camera having to pan back to capture his true size.]
MARTILLO NEGRO DE LA MUERTE: Super Smash Masks will be the night of Martillo Negro de la Muerte. Just as I’ve proved many times over, the juggernaut cannot be stopped. And as I trample my way through the hordes of weak contenders, the end of the night will bring about the ruler of MASQ, the Grand Champion.. _me_.
[He hoists the hammer over his shoulder with ease and turns to walk off screen, and the pauses. He looks back at the camera, his mask betraying any emotion.]
MARTILLO NEGRO DE LA MUERTE: All eyes will bare witness as the night begins, and ends with _death_.
[And with that said he continues his way off-screen, leaving the throne bathed in soft light. His heavy footsteps fade as the camera slowly goes black.]