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Description

There had been a bright flash of light...

And then nothing.

They had all been fighting something, yet memories were hazy in her mind. The purpose as to why, how and where did not seem to matter much at this point. She couldn't budge, couldn't speak and her own thinking processes were somewhat addled by a force that kept her in place, in chains in an almost literal way as she had been transformed into an immobile object. She could not see it, she could not truly discern it, yet she could feel it deep within herself that she was trapped, that someone would need to save her from this predicament, lest all hope would be lost.

For Samus Aran, this was a position that she had never been truly prepared for. She usually did the scouting, the fighting and the rescuing, ever the one with resources and the skills to complete any objectives, with or without her armor. Now, she was without the Chozo suit and without...allies. Yes, she had been fighting against something, or at least preparing to do so. There were a few plumbers, a vulpine pilot, the duo of a dog and a duck, a yoga trainer, a trainer soldier, a boxer and many other clashing characters and personalities fighting alongside her. For a moment, she wondered if she was simply going insane, remembering such highly-contrasting details, but she set it aside as she was worried about them. Were they in the same predicament? Were they alone, scared, unable to act upon anything besides their flickering thoughts? To think of this and to be unable to really do anything was torture at this point. Then an actual sensation spread through her body, an alien one.

She felt stretched, her essence being manipulated and molded into a new form. Beneath the base of her core, a replica was given shape as she began to ponder just what what happening. A shadow-like extension of herself was being created, her own consent and actual deep understanding being set aside for the act to come to fruition. Scanned, meticulously analyzed, she felt doubled, her own mind being somewhat divided for an instant, until it wasn't any longer and the moment passed, which concluded when she fell from an high position. A thud echoed in a dark chamber, her own sight still not adjusted to the environment as she just couldn't figure out just where she was. The only thing she could see was a statue of herself in the air, in chains, which gave her a new understanding of why she just couldn't budge a muscle. If her consciousness was there now, did it mean that she was a copy or something similar? Was she still somewhat thinking all those thoughts up there, trying to figure things out? Was her consciousness transferred or merely copied? One question, however, was much more important than all of these as it kept repeating itself since the very start of this situation.

How could she get out of this one?

For a few seconds, there was only this void that greeted her with cold indifference, until something full of light and warmth approached. It brought her a flicker of hope, Samus wishing that it would get closer as this was the first actual interaction that she had since all of this began. Had it been mere seconds, minutes or perhaps even years since she had been transformed? She could not know, but she understood that this was the first actual moving thing she saw since a long time and she yearned for it to come to her. Perhaps it could save her or simply give her some company. Even a silent presence was preferable than endless darkness and her own thoughts at this point. It shone brightly, a light that burned with so many colors, enticing to her eyes as it brought sensations to her own unmoving body. Warmth, comfort, anticipation...It just seemed right to look at. Whatever it was, a lure, a spirit, a mere illusion caused by her troubled mind, it mattered not. Samus just wanted it to get closer.

It did, as if the light itself was troubled, confused, hesitant to do anything as it never came in contact. Always near, yet never touching her, a link was created as the one within also felt scared and had forgotten a great many things. Who she was, what she was and how this came to be. The difference, though, was that she had movement, yet no real form, the opposite of Samus in many respects. She needed a host, someone to make sure that she would not lose herself. Without a word being exchanged, their feelings were understood and the light began to get less wary of Samus as it finally came into contact, its warmth and brightness illuminating her shadowy figure.

The instant it touched her, the light was absorbed, disappearing into herself as Samus almost screamed in despair at the thought that this gentle soul could be extinguished so quickly, that she couldn't do anything to help it in her current state. However, its presence was still there, yet instead of an external one it was internal, her own radiance and aura seeping through her as it brought her indescribable delight. Perhaps by being within this statuesque form, that spirit had been saved and she wouldn't be alone again, with someone to converse or at least share feelings with as she felt somewhat less vulnerable despite nothing really changing for the moment. Nothing visible, at the very least.

A little cracking sound, at first alarming but then a precedent for something much happier, could be heard, resonating in this vast emptiness as sensation came back in her finger. It was small, almost inconsequential, but it made her feel happy as the presence within her shared that sentiment. She could budge it, which she did copiously as it brought her joy beyond belief. This repeating motion of lifting her finger caused her hand to snap and crack too, giving way to freedom to her right hand. Her own hope flaring up like the sun, she tried to move her left hand and the same occurred in that she could feel her hands and arms again. Her lower and upper arms soon got more lax, stiffness removing itself as she lifted them up, with grey dissolving to make place for regular colors, with her uncovered hands greeting her sight. This caused her resolve to rise considerably, vigor making its way in her very bones as she shook herself and got up, her legs and feet removing the crust of that dark imprisonment within herself. She shook her waist, her hips, her belly and her chest with determination as she finally got a look at herself as her outfit had changed radically.

She knew she wasn't in armor the moment she saw her naked hands a few seconds ago. As such, she expected to be perhaps in her zero suit or a variation of it. It wasn't the case by a very large margin, as she felt weights that formed on her forearms and her wrists, details that weren't there a second ago that she felt was impossible to ignore as she had enormous wrist-guards that extended almost to her elbows, their gold and shiny appearance being rather distracting. More weight began to add themselves on her head as she went on to move her fingers to just see what it was that had been added. Earrings, a tiara and a golden brace in her hair that seemed to replace the traditional elastic that she placed to attach her hair. The cold and yet solid sensation to the touch told her that it was metal that she was touching, with her instinct telling her that it was gold too as she went on to look at her reflection on the wrist-guards she sported. She was unused to jewelry, to such artifices to her appearances. She was rather practical and minimalist, preferring for things to be useful rather than pretty, with herself being alone anyway so her looks wouldn't really matter most of the time. To many, she was the armor and nothing else and it somewhat suited her professionally. Right now, though, she felt weird, yet the presence within her seemed quite happy with it and that made Samus smile a little. She supposed that there was no harm to it, really.

Then she saw the rest of her outfit.

It was blue in shades, quite exactly in the tones that her zero suit had, yet those particular clothes were much more revealing than what she was used to. For one, her stomach, her shoulders, part of her chest, a large portion of her back, her ankles and a part of her neck were all exposed, covered by nothing at all as it showed her fair skin and her muscles for the world to see. What was covered were her legs, her feet, part of her chest and that was it, with puffy see-through pants made of silk, deep-blue panties attached to golden adornments that latched onto her hips and a top that seemed to show cleavage in a way as to tantalize openly. She felt slightly uncomfortable for a moment, but as she looked at this decidedly different set of clothes the presence within her was absolutely beaming with joy. She looked like some harem girl, or perhaps a belly dancer, and the set of thoughts belonging to the other person were adoring it. Perhaps, in some capacity, she was one and she felt more at ease with that kind of look? With no real way to actually know this, Samus figured that she had to get going or else she'd never get to rescue the others. There were other people fighting with her and some pests like Ridley to watch out for, as she'd never be able to trust that space pirate. Pirates, after all, were never to be trusted, like that dastardly Risky Boots.

...Risky Boots?

The name rung a bell, yet she couldn't quite pinpoint why exactly. She was a pirate, that much she was certain, yet as a bounty hunter that particular woman was unknown to her. Perhaps she could try to find out other bounty hunters to compare notes, to see if this woman was important or dangerous. Or else she could try to find Bolo, Sky or Rottytops for assistance.

...Sky? Bolo? Rottytops?

Were they her friends? Vague notions washed over her as it felt eerily familiar to hear those names. She didn't quite know who they were, but she faintly recalled one being a bird handled, one being half-dead and the other a simpleton. Were they part of her entourage that she had forgotten, or was that a trick of the mind? She did know that her memories were tricky, half-emptied and somewhat untrustworthy, yet it felt important to remember those three and to see about the whereabouts of Risky. They were crucial to her somewhat and she'd need to find out why. For now, though, she'd need to stretch out and work those muscles of hers lest she rush into another defeat.

At first she went with her arms and her legs, carefully taking position so as to activate those muscles that had been inert for who-knows how long. Then a thought occurred to her, turning into a desire which then evolved into an immediate craving...

She needed to dance.

She had never done so before. She was not a social butterfly, she did not really care about the arts unless it helped her track down her prey or understand ancient civilizations, yet the raging urgency she felt about dancing was impossible to ignore, her body demanding to be shaken and to move to an unheard beat. It felt weird, yet she obliged it as it bugged her not to sway and gracefully perform, to deny herself this simple activity. At first she went with a bump of her right hip, one to the side, something she could manage and it brought her immediate satisfaction. More than that, it was elation as she went to move her left hip in counter-balance near immediately, giving her the same rush as her muscles were indeed working out a little better than she expected. Ideas for moves came into play as she then lifted her hips up and down in slow succession, augmenting the pace of her waist as it moved along while she lifted her hands and arms in the air. Acting as counterweights to her lower body, those wrist-guards finally made sense as she went on to rapidly move her hips up and down, turning that shaking into shimmies that were bringing out a passion she never quite knew she possessed prior to this moment. Everything came naturally to her about this, as if she had done so all her life. She used her feet to rotate and twirl, she pushed her shoulders to the front, rolled them and used her chest in spinning motion as it only heightened the experience. She had hunted so often in solitary, always focused on her job, on Space Pirates and Metroids, that she never really let herself go like this. It felt great, ecstatic, as she couldn't help but picture herself on a stage, with people cheering her on.

The thought of Scuttle Town, of the dance parlor, came to mind at this instant and she knew just where it was located, close to the bathing house as she used to perform there overnight, becoming a sensation as the dancing half-genie her-

This was odd. She was a bounty hunter, wasn't she? She had her own ship, her own suit of technologically-superior armor, her enemies, the regulars that she used to fight so often. Like Ridley for instance, or Risky Boots and those pesky Tinkerbats of hers.

Something was wrong, yet she couldn't pinpoint just what. There was something clashing, her own thoughts being muddied as if wrong information was being partially erased to make way for the truth. Confused, she stopped dancing and she began to piece it together. First of all, she had been taken in by the Chozos, a mystical ancient race that had raised her after a vicious attack by Risky Boots and her Tinkerbats, the name for the Space Pirates...

No...This wasn't quite right.

She was a half-genie bounty hunter that used her suit of Chozo armor to dance and transform into different forms, including a monkey, an elephant and a ball form to fit into tight places...

Again, this seemed wrong.

She had a spaceship which flew across the galaxy, with her friends helping her on board like the loyal Sky, the mischievous Rottytops and the dull but kindhearted Bolo. They helped fight against threats to the Genie Realm like the Phazon incident...

There was definitely something absurdly contradictory to all of this as she tried to push away anything that seemed false, that just didn't mesh well with the overall narrative. She looked at herself and began to severely question just who she was and what she did. There were so many pieces of the puzzle that were missing about her identity that it felt a little futile to try, yet a part of her decided not to give up, to believe in herself as too many people counted on her. She needed to figure things out and so she tried to be rational, to analyze the situation.

First of all, she was decidedly dressed like a dancer, which gave much more credence to the half-genie theory as she was more oriental in her look than that part where she wore a heavy and bulky suit of armor. Her own happiness in performing, in going through fluid motions with her body, gave much more weight to the half-genie theory too, which made it seem like her identity was perhaps a little clearer.

The second notion was that of her friends. Somewhat, she knew that this Ridley was bad, yet not once did she remember who exactly he was and what he looked like. Rottytops, Bolo and Sky were in the same predicament, yet she could recall specific personality traits and important details about them, giving them a more vivid presence within her, so that meant it was much more possible that they existed. Risky Boots, though...felt much like Ridley in that she was bad news...and that she was a woman, a fact that did seem to put more emphasis on the fact that she knew who she was. Ridley could be anything, really, from a fat ruffian to a somewhat mechanic pterodactyl for all she knew.

The fact that she danced so often on a stage in which she knew the exact location did place her spaceship theory in jeopardy, as space was vast and cold, almost impossible to truly discern in terms of familiarity. If she was truly the owner of a spaceship, how could she really perform nearly every nights in Scuttle Town with regularity? It made no sense, truly.

So now she had more conviction, more knowledge about her conflicting thoughts, the two contrasting timelines in which she supposedly lived. In one, she was a bounty hunter from space chasing space pirates like Ridley, while in the other she was a half-genie guardian which lived in Scuttle Town where she also acted as a professional belly dancer, fighting to protect the town from pirates like Risky Boots with her friends named Sky, Bolo and Rottytops. One was much more precise than the other and felt somewhat truer, much closer to the core of who she was than anything else. Yet, she was still conflicted as she felt that this bounty hunter part must have come from somewhere in some capacity. She couldn't just have imagined all of this out-of-the-blue. She needed to clear her mind and for that she went with something that always helped her focus, always brought out concentration and a certain tint of happiness no matter where she was or in which predicament she was caught in.

She would dance.

The steps were familiar and she could almost hear the drums, the cymbals, the sitar and the many instruments from the dance parlor within her mind and in her heart. She moved a foot to the front and bumped her hip in the air, closing her eyes to allow her whole body to speak for itself, to bring out the truth. She could smell spice in the air whenever she thought of Scuttle Town and its port, its denizens and the many oddities found within. Uncle Mimic and his weird inventions, the mayor and his bizarre habits of firing and re-hiring her, Sky and her bird hatchery on the rooftops...It all seemed too real to deny.

She took another step, bumped her other hip in the air and then let her arms rise up like serpents, swaying as if they were boneless, soft and easy to bend. All those hours where she practiced in the lighthouse she called home, ever ready to perform or to fight, sometimes doing both to ensure the safety of all Sequin Land. The Hypno Baron, the Ammo Baron, Risky Boots, the Pirate Master...all threats that she took care of with her magic hair, her transformation dances, her spells and her own ability to confront evil. The more she danced, the more self-assured and confident she was about where the truth could be found.

She held no connection to whoever Ridley was, she had never been raised by the Chozos, she possessed no technological marvel like that suit of armor that kept popping up, she had never fought those space pirates and she most certainly did not know what a Metroid was. Whoever this Samus Aran was...

It wasn't her.

Her eyes closed, she felt the familiar weight of her accessories on her arms, on her ears and on her head as the free-flowing fabric of her clothes swooshed in the air while she twirled with incredible ease, her muscle memory fully coming back to her as she knew for certain about who she was now. She was Shantae, the half-genie heroine of Scuttle Town, of all Sequin Land. Her clothes were different, her skin was of a different color and her hair wasn't nearly as long, or even the right color, but she was quite certain that she knew her identity. She was a hero, someone genuinely trying to do good and there was a mystery here that needed to be solved as she opened her eyes again, stopping her dance while determination lit up in her face. She needed to find out where those bizarre memories came from and who exactly this Samus Aran was. Who was this bounty hunter from space, if she even existed? Taking a step in the unknown, she felt a presence manifest itself as it gave her direction, a hint as to where to go and what to do. She would have to expect opposition, enemies that would try very hard to stop her in this quest of hers to uncover the truth. It would be quite a quest, one that could perhaps dwarf all that she had faced prior, with many allies right here to help her in this task.

She knew not who Galeem was, yet she felt she could trust him as she went toward a door that just opened, one that directed her into a world of light.

One in which she'd have to dance through the danger once again.

Description

There had been a bright flash of light...

And then nothing.

They had all been fighting something, yet memories were hazy in her mind. The purpose as to why, how and where did not seem to matter much at this point. She couldn't budge, couldn't speak and her own thinking processes were somewhat addled by a force that kept her in place, in chains in an almost literal way as she had been transformed into an immobile object. She could not see it, she could not truly discern it, yet she could feel it deep within herself that she was trapped, that someone would need to save her from this predicament, lest all hope would be lost.

For Samus Aran, this was a position that she had never been truly prepared for. She usually did the scouting, the fighting and the rescuing, ever the one with resources and the skills to complete any objectives, with or without her armor. Now, she was without the Chozo suit and without...allies. Yes, she had been fighting against something, or at least preparing to do so. There were a few plumbers, a vulpine pilot, the duo of a dog and a duck, a yoga trainer, a trainer soldier, a boxer and many other clashing characters and personalities fighting alongside her. For a moment, she wondered if she was simply going insane, remembering such highly-contrasting details, but she set it aside as she was worried about them. Were they in the same predicament? Were they alone, scared, unable to act upon anything besides their flickering thoughts? To think of this and to be unable to really do anything was torture at this point. Then an actual sensation spread through her body, an alien one.

She felt stretched, her essence being manipulated and molded into a new form. Beneath the base of her core, a replica was given shape as she began to ponder just what what happening. A shadow-like extension of herself was being created, her own consent and actual deep understanding being set aside for the act to come to fruition. Scanned, meticulously analyzed, she felt doubled, her own mind being somewhat divided for an instant, until it wasn't any longer and the moment passed, which concluded when she fell from an high position. A thud echoed in a dark chamber, her own sight still not adjusted to the environment as she just couldn't figure out just where she was. The only thing she could see was a statue of herself in the air, in chains, which gave her a new understanding of why she just couldn't budge a muscle. If her consciousness was there now, did it mean that she was a copy or something similar? Was she still somewhat thinking all those thoughts up there, trying to figure things out? Was her consciousness transferred or merely copied? One question, however, was much more important than all of these as it kept repeating itself since the very start of this situation.

How could she get out of this one?

For a few seconds, there was only this void that greeted her with cold indifference, until something full of light and warmth approached. It brought her a flicker of hope, Samus wishing that it would get closer as this was the first actual interaction that she had since all of this began. Had it been mere seconds, minutes or perhaps even years since she had been transformed? She could not know, but she understood that this was the first actual moving thing she saw since a long time and she yearned for it to come to her. Perhaps it could save her or simply give her some company. Even a silent presence was preferable than endless darkness and her own thoughts at this point. It shone brightly, a light that burned with so many colors, enticing to her eyes as it brought sensations to her own unmoving body. Warmth, comfort, anticipation...It just seemed right to look at. Whatever it was, a lure, a spirit, a mere illusion caused by her troubled mind, it mattered not. Samus just wanted it to get closer.

It did, as if the light itself was troubled, confused, hesitant to do anything as it never came in contact. Always near, yet never touching her, a link was created as the one within also felt scared and had forgotten a great many things. Who she was, what she was and how this came to be. The difference, though, was that she had movement, yet no real form, the opposite of Samus in many respects. She needed a host, someone to make sure that she would not lose herself. Without a word being exchanged, their feelings were understood and the light began to get less wary of Samus as it finally came into contact, its warmth and brightness illuminating her shadowy figure.

The instant it touched her, the light was absorbed, disappearing into herself as Samus almost screamed in despair at the thought that this gentle soul could be extinguished so quickly, that she couldn't do anything to help it in her current state. However, its presence was still there, yet instead of an external one it was internal, her own radiance and aura seeping through her as it brought her indescribable delight. Perhaps by being within this statuesque form, that spirit had been saved and she wouldn't be alone again, with someone to converse or at least share feelings with as she felt somewhat less vulnerable despite nothing really changing for the moment. Nothing visible, at the very least.

A little cracking sound, at first alarming but then a precedent for something much happier, could be heard, resonating in this vast emptiness as sensation came back in her finger. It was small, almost inconsequential, but it made her feel happy as the presence within her shared that sentiment. She could budge it, which she did copiously as it brought her joy beyond belief. This repeating motion of lifting her finger caused her hand to snap and crack too, giving way to freedom to her right hand. Her own hope flaring up like the sun, she tried to move her left hand and the same occurred in that she could feel her hands and arms again. Her lower and upper arms soon got more lax, stiffness removing itself as she lifted them up, with grey dissolving to make place for regular colors, with her uncovered hands greeting her sight. This caused her resolve to rise considerably, vigor making its way in her very bones as she shook herself and got up, her legs and feet removing the crust of that dark imprisonment within herself. She shook her waist, her hips, her belly and her chest with determination as she finally got a look at herself as her outfit had changed radically.

She knew she wasn't in armor the moment she saw her naked hands a few seconds ago. As such, she expected to be perhaps in her zero suit or a variation of it. It wasn't the case by a very large margin, as she felt weights that formed on her forearms and her wrists, details that weren't there a second ago that she felt was impossible to ignore as she had enormous wrist-guards that extended almost to her elbows, their gold and shiny appearance being rather distracting. More weight began to add themselves on her head as she went on to move her fingers to just see what it was that had been added. Earrings, a tiara and a golden brace in her hair that seemed to replace the traditional elastic that she placed to attach her hair. The cold and yet solid sensation to the touch told her that it was metal that she was touching, with her instinct telling her that it was gold too as she went on to look at her reflection on the wrist-guards she sported. She was unused to jewelry, to such artifices to her appearances. She was rather practical and minimalist, preferring for things to be useful rather than pretty, with herself being alone anyway so her looks wouldn't really matter most of the time. To many, she was the armor and nothing else and it somewhat suited her professionally. Right now, though, she felt weird, yet the presence within her seemed quite happy with it and that made Samus smile a little. She supposed that there was no harm to it, really.

Then she saw the rest of her outfit.

It was blue in shades, quite exactly in the tones that her zero suit had, yet those particular clothes were much more revealing than what she was used to. For one, her stomach, her shoulders, part of her chest, a large portion of her back, her ankles and a part of her neck were all exposed, covered by nothing at all as it showed her fair skin and her muscles for the world to see. What was covered were her legs, her feet, part of her chest and that was it, with puffy see-through pants made of silk, deep-blue panties attached to golden adornments that latched onto her hips and a top that seemed to show cleavage in a way as to tantalize openly. She felt slightly uncomfortable for a moment, but as she looked at this decidedly different set of clothes the presence within her was absolutely beaming with joy. She looked like some harem girl, or perhaps a belly dancer, and the set of thoughts belonging to the other person were adoring it. Perhaps, in some capacity, she was one and she felt more at ease with that kind of look? With no real way to actually know this, Samus figured that she had to get going or else she'd never get to rescue the others. There were other people fighting with her and some pests like Ridley to watch out for, as she'd never be able to trust that space pirate. Pirates, after all, were never to be trusted, like that dastardly Risky Boots.

...Risky Boots?

The name rung a bell, yet she couldn't quite pinpoint why exactly. She was a pirate, that much she was certain, yet as a bounty hunter that particular woman was unknown to her. Perhaps she could try to find out other bounty hunters to compare notes, to see if this woman was important or dangerous. Or else she could try to find Bolo, Sky or Rottytops for assistance.

...Sky? Bolo? Rottytops?

Were they her friends? Vague notions washed over her as it felt eerily familiar to hear those names. She didn't quite know who they were, but she faintly recalled one being a bird handled, one being half-dead and the other a simpleton. Were they part of her entourage that she had forgotten, or was that a trick of the mind? She did know that her memories were tricky, half-emptied and somewhat untrustworthy, yet it felt important to remember those three and to see about the whereabouts of Risky. They were crucial to her somewhat and she'd need to find out why. For now, though, she'd need to stretch out and work those muscles of hers lest she rush into another defeat.

At first she went with her arms and her legs, carefully taking position so as to activate those muscles that had been inert for who-knows how long. Then a thought occurred to her, turning into a desire which then evolved into an immediate craving...

She needed to dance.

She had never done so before. She was not a social butterfly, she did not really care about the arts unless it helped her track down her prey or understand ancient civilizations, yet the raging urgency she felt about dancing was impossible to ignore, her body demanding to be shaken and to move to an unheard beat. It felt weird, yet she obliged it as it bugged her not to sway and gracefully perform, to deny herself this simple activity. At first she went with a bump of her right hip, one to the side, something she could manage and it brought her immediate satisfaction. More than that, it was elation as she went to move her left hip in counter-balance near immediately, giving her the same rush as her muscles were indeed working out a little better than she expected. Ideas for moves came into play as she then lifted her hips up and down in slow succession, augmenting the pace of her waist as it moved along while she lifted her hands and arms in the air. Acting as counterweights to her lower body, those wrist-guards finally made sense as she went on to rapidly move her hips up and down, turning that shaking into shimmies that were bringing out a passion she never quite knew she possessed prior to this moment. Everything came naturally to her about this, as if she had done so all her life. She used her feet to rotate and twirl, she pushed her shoulders to the front, rolled them and used her chest in spinning motion as it only heightened the experience. She had hunted so often in solitary, always focused on her job, on Space Pirates and Metroids, that she never really let herself go like this. It felt great, ecstatic, as she couldn't help but picture herself on a stage, with people cheering her on.

The thought of Scuttle Town, of the dance parlor, came to mind at this instant and she knew just where it was located, close to the bathing house as she used to perform there overnight, becoming a sensation as the dancing half-genie her-

This was odd. She was a bounty hunter, wasn't she? She had her own ship, her own suit of technologically-superior armor, her enemies, the regulars that she used to fight so often. Like Ridley for instance, or Risky Boots and those pesky Tinkerbats of hers.

Something was wrong, yet she couldn't pinpoint just what. There was something clashing, her own thoughts being muddied as if wrong information was being partially erased to make way for the truth. Confused, she stopped dancing and she began to piece it together. First of all, she had been taken in by the Chozos, a mystical ancient race that had raised her after a vicious attack by Risky Boots and her Tinkerbats, the name for the Space Pirates...

No...This wasn't quite right.

She was a half-genie bounty hunter that used her suit of Chozo armor to dance and transform into different forms, including a monkey, an elephant and a ball form to fit into tight places...

Again, this seemed wrong.

She had a spaceship which flew across the galaxy, with her friends helping her on board like the loyal Sky, the mischievous Rottytops and the dull but kindhearted Bolo. They helped fight against threats to the Genie Realm like the Phazon incident...

There was definitely something absurdly contradictory to all of this as she tried to push away anything that seemed false, that just didn't mesh well with the overall narrative. She looked at herself and began to severely question just who she was and what she did. There were so many pieces of the puzzle that were missing about her identity that it felt a little futile to try, yet a part of her decided not to give up, to believe in herself as too many people counted on her. She needed to figure things out and so she tried to be rational, to analyze the situation.

First of all, she was decidedly dressed like a dancer, which gave much more credence to the half-genie theory as she was more oriental in her look than that part where she wore a heavy and bulky suit of armor. Her own happiness in performing, in going through fluid motions with her body, gave much more weight to the half-genie theory too, which made it seem like her identity was perhaps a little clearer.

The second notion was that of her friends. Somewhat, she knew that this Ridley was bad, yet not once did she remember who exactly he was and what he looked like. Rottytops, Bolo and Sky were in the same predicament, yet she could recall specific personality traits and important details about them, giving them a more vivid presence within her, so that meant it was much more possible that they existed. Risky Boots, though...felt much like Ridley in that she was bad news...and that she was a woman, a fact that did seem to put more emphasis on the fact that she knew who she was. Ridley could be anything, really, from a fat ruffian to a somewhat mechanic pterodactyl for all she knew.

The fact that she danced so often on a stage in which she knew the exact location did place her spaceship theory in jeopardy, as space was vast and cold, almost impossible to truly discern in terms of familiarity. If she was truly the owner of a spaceship, how could she really perform nearly every nights in Scuttle Town with regularity? It made no sense, truly.

So now she had more conviction, more knowledge about her conflicting thoughts, the two contrasting timelines in which she supposedly lived. In one, she was a bounty hunter from space chasing space pirates like Ridley, while in the other she was a half-genie guardian which lived in Scuttle Town where she also acted as a professional belly dancer, fighting to protect the town from pirates like Risky Boots with her friends named Sky, Bolo and Rottytops. One was much more precise than the other and felt somewhat truer, much closer to the core of who she was than anything else. Yet, she was still conflicted as she felt that this bounty hunter part must have come from somewhere in some capacity. She couldn't just have imagined all of this out-of-the-blue. She needed to clear her mind and for that she went with something that always helped her focus, always brought out concentration and a certain tint of happiness no matter where she was or in which predicament she was caught in.

She would dance.

The steps were familiar and she could almost hear the drums, the cymbals, the sitar and the many instruments from the dance parlor within her mind and in her heart. She moved a foot to the front and bumped her hip in the air, closing her eyes to allow her whole body to speak for itself, to bring out the truth. She could smell spice in the air whenever she thought of Scuttle Town and its port, its denizens and the many oddities found within. Uncle Mimic and his weird inventions, the mayor and his bizarre habits of firing and re-hiring her, Sky and her bird hatchery on the rooftops...It all seemed too real to deny.

She took another step, bumped her other hip in the air and then let her arms rise up like serpents, swaying as if they were boneless, soft and easy to bend. All those hours where she practiced in the lighthouse she called home, ever ready to perform or to fight, sometimes doing both to ensure the safety of all Sequin Land. The Hypno Baron, the Ammo Baron, Risky Boots, the Pirate Master...all threats that she took care of with her magic hair, her transformation dances, her spells and her own ability to confront evil. The more she danced, the more self-assured and confident she was about where the truth could be found.

She held no connection to whoever Ridley was, she had never been raised by the Chozos, she possessed no technological marvel like that suit of armor that kept popping up, she had never fought those space pirates and she most certainly did not know what a Metroid was. Whoever this Samus Aran was...

It wasn't her.

Her eyes closed, she felt the familiar weight of her accessories on her arms, on her ears and on her head as the free-flowing fabric of her clothes swooshed in the air while she twirled with incredible ease, her muscle memory fully coming back to her as she knew for certain about who she was now. She was Shantae, the half-genie heroine of Scuttle Town, of all Sequin Land. Her clothes were different, her skin was of a different color and her hair wasn't nearly as long, or even the right color, but she was quite certain that she knew her identity. She was a hero, someone genuinely trying to do good and there was a mystery here that needed to be solved as she opened her eyes again, stopping her dance while determination lit up in her face. She needed to find out where those bizarre memories came from and who exactly this Samus Aran was. Who was this bounty hunter from space, if she even existed? Taking a step in the unknown, she felt a presence manifest itself as it gave her direction, a hint as to where to go and what to do. She would have to expect opposition, enemies that would try very hard to stop her in this quest of hers to uncover the truth. It would be quite a quest, one that could perhaps dwarf all that she had faced prior, with many allies right here to help her in this task.

She knew not who Galeem was, yet she felt she could trust him as she went toward a door that just opened, one that directed her into a world of light.

One in which she'd have to dance through the danger once again.