Tom Haddington was on vacation in the city of York. Due to the ongoing border closure to prevent the spread of COVID-19, he had decided to go explore various locations around his own country. Seeing that the ancient walled city of York was home to the National Railway Museum, he decided the city was worth a visit. Tom was a huge train buff, after all.
Walking down Station Road, he saw something interesting on an advertisement. The nearby Yorkshire Museum had recently opened a new exhibit, which showcased recently uncovered artifacts from during the city’s Roman times. He decided he should take advantage of this opportunity and check it out. There was no harm in it, and he didn’t have much of a day plan, after all.
Upon arriving at the museum, Tom sanitized his hands and double-checked that his face was fully covered before heading inside. It was strange being in a museum almost by himself. Large museums were usually packed with tourists from all over the world. It saddened Tom to see this, but he understood the necessity of all the safety measures put in place.
It wasn’t long before he reached the new exhibit. Even if he couldn’t read the Latin words on the signs, it was pretty obvious what they represented and where they were pointing to. The exhibit was extremely well done, with both authentic and replica artifacts, ranging from armour, to weapons, to various other objects of note. It must’ve taken the restoration team months to set this up, and the process they used to do so was likely very interesting. One thing was certain, though. They definitely took great pride in their work.
However, when Tom walked through the stylized archway into the next room, he noticed something was wrong with the display. One of the display cases was smashed open, and the legionary helmet inside was knocked over. Even stranger, the glass was broken outwards on all sides, which should be impossible.
This didn’t look like a robbery or vandalism, it would’ve taken a ridiculous amount of time and effort to do this without getting caught, especially due to the noise the breaking glass would create. However, Tom was too busy staring at the helmet to notice any of this.
The helmet was a thing of beauty. It was seemingly made of bronze, due to the signature reddish brown colour, and the plaque on the case didn’t hurt that assumption. “Hello!?” Tom called out. “Is anyone here?” Maybe he’d give Jimmy a call later. He did tell Tom about a lot of weird things happening to him.
No one came, and that was rather concerning. He was about to call for help, but before he could, there was a blinding flash, and once he reopened his eyes, the helmet was no longer in the case. Instead, it was uncomfortably stuck on his head.
When he reached up to take it off, a painful, but brief shock ran down from the helmet to his hands. Feeling a strange prickling sensation, he looked down at them, only to see the fingers quickly merging into hoof-stubs, and grey blue fur rapidly spreading up his arms towards his torso.
As any sane person would do in this scenario, Tom began to freak out, desperately trying to knock the helmet off his head. As he did this, his skeleton decided to change, his pelvis and spine forcefully and painfully breaking apart and reconstructing, dropping him into a quadruple stance.
Luckily, no one else saw Tom’s clothing shred as his body gained muscle mass and an increasingly equine shape. More of the grey-blue fur covered his body, providing the changing human with some modesty before he became fully exposed. With a burst of pain, Tom felt as a cropped, grey tail burst out of his ass, which he found he could move with ease. This was quickly followed by a pair of small, but still functional wings bursting out of his sides. If he wasn’t so distracted by the pain, he would find he could fly with them.
The changes to his body didn’t stop there, though. If anything, they were accelerating as his skull changed shape in a way that would make the effects department from ‘An American Werewolf in London’ jealous. His eyes grew larger and turned a faded turquoise as he grew a short beard and his hair grew into a matching mane. Lastly, his ears started to move, sliding into new slits in his helmet. The changes complete, a full set of armour surrounded his lower body.
Unfortunately for Tom, he wasn’t given a chance to assess his situation and look over his new body. As if on cue, he fell to the ground and blacked out.
***
When Tom awake, he found he was no longer in the museum. In fact, he was no longer in Eboracum! Wait, didn’t he mean York? His memory of the last few hours was kind of fuzzy. Various Pegasi wearing Roman Style medic armour were running back in forth, tending to the dozens of wounded ponies around him. Almost immediately, he was spotted by a familiar yellow Pegasus carrying a shield.
“Praetor Ironhead!” Flash Magnus called out, worried for his mentor and commanding officer. “We were starting to think you were never going to wake up! Ever since you went down in the battle a week ago, we’ve been running around like a cockatrice with its head cut off, trying to secure the base, tend to the wounded, and count our losses.”
Tom listened, and then thought for a minute. It was all coming back now: Flash’s return, the news of the enemy base, and the massacre he unknowingly led his troops into.
“I feel great sorrow for the brave Pegasi we lost during the battle.” Ironhead struggled to get up, only to be met with a sharp pain in his back. He’s still need a few days to recover before he could return to his duties. “I’ll see to it that each and every one of them are given a proper legion burial. Their sacrifices and contributions to our success will not be forgotten.”
He looked Flash in the eye. “I need you to command the legion until I can return to my post.” Ironhead spoke. “Can I trust you to keep everypony organized?”
Flash Magnus didn’t hesitate before responding. “I won’t let you down, Sir!”
“Good.” The Praetor sighed as he laid back down on his makeshift bed. “There is much to get done.”