"Ah, the mask? A good question." Meta Knight's voice sounded more melancholic than usual. His gauntleted hand moved instinctively towards the shining silver surface of his mask. His eyes cast downward, yet his gaze seemed distant as if set upon something lost to time.
"It is an affectation to be sure, but one I could not do without." The Star Warrior's next words contained a hint of self-consciousness, a rare occurrence to be sure. "This may sound strange, but I associate this mask with the same sense of identity as one would with their face. For me, this is my face. My soul."
The knight chuckled bitterly. "I suppose that is quite twisted."














