In the heart of the Mushroom Kingdom, creeping darkness began to envelop the once-bustling land. It all started when Mario, the heroic plumber, ventured into an ancient, forgotten tunnel beneath the castle grounds. Curiosity had always been his greatest strength, but this time it would be his undoing. As he descended deeper into the earth, the air grew colder, and the walls seemed to close in. Strange whispers echoed through the tunnel, carrying an eerie, disembodied laughter. Mario pressed on, his resolve unyielding. Suddenly, he stumbled upon an ornate door, covered in faded runes. Pushing it open, he found himself in a chamber of shadows and silence. The only source of light emanated from a peculiar, pulsating object at the center of the room. Approaching cautiously, Mario reached out to touch it, but a sudden chill ran down his spine. The object seemed to ripple, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he saw his reflection twisted into a grotesque parody. As if on cue, the room transformed. Walls stretched and contorted, pulsing with a malevolent energy. The air grew heavy with the stench of decay. Mario's heart raced, but escape seemed impossible. He was trapped in a nightmarish realm of his own making. Then, a voice echoed through the chamber, a twisted amalgamation of familiar and foreign. It spoke of forgotten sins, buried deep within Mario's subconscious. Memories he had long since suppressed now clawed their way to the surface, tormenting him with guilt and regret. Images flashed before his eyes: Toadstool's anguished cries, Bowser's fiery wrath, Luigi's distant gaze. Each face contorted with sorrow and betrayal, accusing Mario of his perceived failures. The walls seemed to close in further, suffocating him. Desperation took hold as he frantically searched for an exit. But the room had become an inescapable labyrinth, constantly shifting and warping. Hours turned to days, days to weeks. Mario's mind unraveled, and he lost all sense of time. The whispers grew louder, mocking and taunting him. Shadows danced in the periphery of his vision, taking on grotesque forms. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it all stopped. The chamber returned to its original, foreboding stillness. Mario stood at the center, gasping for breath, drenched in sweat. Slowly, he stumbled back towards the ornate door, pushing it open. He emerged into the tunnel, the once-menacing darkness now a welcoming embrace. As he made his way back to the surface, he couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed within him, something irreparably broken. From that day on, Mario was never the same. He carried the weight of the chamber's horrors with him, haunted by the specters of his psyche. The Mushroom Kingdom, once a vibrant land of joy, had become a twisted reflection of its former self. And in the depths of that ancient tunnel, the malevolent force waited, biding its time, knowing that the horrors it had unleashed upon Mario were just the beginning. The darkness had taken root, and there was no escaping its insidious grasp.
"This has been your narrator, Waluigi."