• Published 30th Nov 2016
  • 1,414 Views, 73 Comments

The Legend, Rebuilt - Caldoric

A tale in which a human is Displaced, and charged with managing the progression of both Equestria and the Bionicle universe. And, to top it all off, all is not as peaceful as it seems...

  • ...

What is even going on here?

Slowly, the sleeping being awoke on the too-small cot with a low groan. Whilst the low lighting in the room wasn't overtaxing on one's eyes, even at the best of times, there was still a certain intensity to the ambient red-orange glow which kept his eyelids screwed shut. That, and the localized heat wave which necessitated a certain lack of bedsheets, had made for a slightly unrestful slumber.

The dark figure sat up slowly, bringing a hand up to rub the sleep from his eyes. Palm met cheek with a light clunk, confusing him. "Wait, wha...?" He began, finally opening his eyes.

"Oh, hey!" Said a cheerful voice nearby. "He's awake! Jala, the new guy's awake! C'mere!" The stranger's head snapped around in time to see a small, four-legged, biomechanical being jump up and place it's red forehooves on his leg. "Hi!" It said excitedly, cerulean "tail" wagging, the deep blue mask on its elongated head clearly telegraphing it's facial expression. "Hey, why aren't you wearing your mask, stranger?"

How did I get here, and why does this... pony... look and sound like Takua? The nameless being asked himself silently. Slowly, memories of the previous day filtered back into his mind, bringing both answers to questions he'd yet to ask, and new questions whose possible answers he was loath to consider...

Many hours ago.
Another world, another dimension:

Ian was walking around at ComiCon San Diego, and he was excited. Aside from the meager handful of visits to his local BrickCon a few years ago, he'd never been to any kind of Convention. He'd been working hard on his costume, which was a set of armor for a Toa OC he'd come up with a couple years prior. The power set his OC had was, predictably, potentially overpowered, but it was for good reason.

The way he saw it, everyone who made OC's had to have at least one that was OP, usually some sort of self-insert or author avatar, so he figured he might as well get it out of the way while he could, then set it aside for something different next time.

As he maneuvered around a particularly rowdy gaggle of Bronies (mostly dressed in one-man equine "fursuits" or two-man horse costumes,) he looked about to see if he could find his sister, but the leaf-green cloak of her Ranger's outfit was nowhere to be seen. Ian could only hope she hadn't left the two Lightsaber hilts he'd gotten her a few years ago back at the hotel. Who knew if some idiot would get the bright idea to break into their room and start taking shit...

Focusing back on the present, he bobbed his head to his music, and scanned the nearby booths for anything interesting. He found one, which was selling old Bionicle sets, but he already had at least one of each thing the guy was selling. It was a shame there weren't any Bohrok or Visorak, but oh well.

As he left the booth, he checked the heartlight on his chest, only to find it'd stopped blinking. "Damn thing," he muttered, reaching a gloved hand down through the neck of his chestplate, "I really need to get a more permanent fix for that loose wire... Or maybe just get a new one entirely. A longer one." Reconnecting the offending bit of hardware, he considered switching to one of those wrist-mounted pedometer/heart rate monitor thingies, and maybe getting it hooked up wirelessly to the heartlight itself. Obviously, the current gel-coated contact on his chest just wasn't cutting it.

"There," he said at last, as the light behind the frosted green plexiglass flickered to life, fading on and off in time with his heartbeat. Adjusting his homemade mask of Quick Travel, he set off again, only to catch a glimpse of a petite figure in a green cloak. She was just leaving another booth, and merging with the crowd. Ian hurried to catch up with her, but soon lost her amongst the mass of jostling bodies.

"You look lost."

Ian looked to his left, finding himself holding the attention of a strange-looking booth owner, who was dressed like Slenderman and seemed to be selling.... just about everything, actually. There were weapons, artefacts, and other knick-knacks from various fandoms, some of which he recognized. So many cool things...!

"Are you lost, hero?" The vendor asked, genuinely curious. Ian shook his head.

"Nah, man, just looking for my sister." He replied. "She was wearing a green Ranger cloak and gear, like from the Ranger's Apprentice series, by John Flanagan."

"Ah," exclaimed the vendor, leaning back in his chair, "I thought as much. It was a rather nice design, though it seemed a shame that she was missing the appropriate knives..."

"Yeah, I know..." Ian agreed, the 'now serving' sign hanging behind the vendor momentarily catching his eye. "Anywho, we just got separated a few minutes ago, and I was hoping to catch up. Say, you wouldn't happen to actually have a set of knives and suchlike in stock, would you?"

The vendor sighed. "Unfortunately, no. What you see here before you is all I have, Toa."

"Yeah, I can dig that, I got the same problem at work." Ian complained. "So, you know Bionicle, too? Nice."

"Yes, and I am also aware of Homestuck, so don't think your unique color scheme escapes my eye, hero." Stated the vendor. "Now, would you perchance like to purchase something?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," stuttered Ian. He focused on the menagerie of items available, and had a hard time making a decision. "Um... let's see, how about... the starry-looking sword, the Assassin's Creed wristblades, the diamond pickaxe, the bladed grenade launcher thingy--"

"Bruteshot," corrected the vendor.

"Bruteshot," agreed Ian, "aaand... the Sylladex."

The vendor nodded, and brought forth the items. "Alright, a nice selection. And since you're getting all these items at once, I'll throw in a couple things, on the house."

"Really? Which items?" Ian asked, slightly suspicious.

"A Wallet modus and some cards for the Sylladex, a Strife Specibus, and the forearm plate from Edward Elric's Automail. The Briggs model."

"Oooh, nice, thanks! How much?"

The vendor tapped his chin for a moment, then seemed to make up his mind. "$750," he said, simply. "I take plastic, if it helps."

In response, Ian drew in a sharp breath and winced. "Oh... Eh, screw it. I'll take the lot." With that, he pulled out his own wallet and swiped his debit card. Putting it and his wallet away again, he began gathering up his new items and sticking them on his person in the appropriate places.

"Ah, you may want to grab the Sylladex first," the vendor said, concern evident on his face even through the Slenderman covering.

Ian, who had been about to grab the Bruteshot, paused. "Ok...?" Grabbing the Sylladex instead, as well as the cards and Strife Specibus, he stuck them in an available pocket, then reached for the gun again. Just as his fingers brushed it, however, he was enveloped in a brief flash of light and an even longer burst of pain. Beneath him, a tear in space-time yawned momentarily, and he fell through, dragging the surprisingly heavy Bruteshot with him.

The vendor leaned over the table, gazing at the innocent-looking floor. "Oh, dear, looks like he's going to have some fun with that world, if I'm not mistaken. And- oh, for shame! He's left his Wallet modus behind..." With a snap of his long, bony fingers, the modus vanished in another flare of light.

The Merchant leaned back in his chair once more, and upped the value on his 'now serving' counter. "Next...!" He said, with a hint of a smile.


"...Ohhhhhhhh, my head...!" Ian complained, sitting up and looking around. For some reason, he was in the middle of a lava field, and it was rather warm, in a slightly unpleasant way. He quickly noted that this field led off into the distance, and up the side of a volcano.

Above him, there was a glimmer of light, and he looked up in time to see the Wallet Modus he'd left behind getting all up in his grill. Of course, it never made full contact with his face, clattering instead off of his mask and onto his lap.

"What?" He asked, stupidly. "Oh... Ah, man, how the hell did I get here?" He raised a hand up under his mask, intending to rub some ash out of one eye, only to catch the faint whirring of servos coming from his entire arm. "Oh god, what?!" He exclaimed, frantically beginning to look himself over.

What he found wasn't very reassuring.

"Oh god oh god oh god..." Ian panted, running his hands over his body, feeling out the various servos, pistons, and other mechanical bits now seamlessly interlaced with his body.


Ian whipped around to see a giant, biomechanical, red-and-yellow frog come bounding into view, chasing a large bipedal lizard. He also saw the bruteshot, the blade of which had almost completely been buried in the hardened lava near where his head had been.

Thank God for small miracles... he thought as he stood, yanking the device out of the ground like the proverbial sword from the stone. It was only after he was holding it as he'd seen in Red vs Blue, and the strange reptile had scurried around behind him, that he realized something important. Wait, how the hell do I fire this thing?!?!

The giant frog paused in its tracks, looking Ian up and down, trying to decide if he was prey. Without warning, it shot out its tongue directly at his face!

Ian, who was already on a hair trigger, flinched involuntarily and briefly twisted the knob on the bruteshot's side as a result. With a FWUMP! a small projectile rocketed out of the device, catching the edge of the large, sticky tongue, it's flight terminating with a BANG in the back of the giant amphibian's throat.

There was a squeak of surprise from the lizard behind him as the explosion rocked the frog's body. It began coughing and spitting as best it could, giving Ian the evil eye. And, now that he had a moment to think, he thought he recognized the beast: it was oddly similar to something he'd seen long ago, in his childhood. In addition to that, he'd caught a glimpse of a corroded-looking bit of metal on its lower back...

The frog gave a loud, angry croak, and prepared itself to spring at its new target. Alright, Frogger, Ian thought, you want some more? Then come and get it...!

He twisted the knob again as the creature leapt into the air, knocking it onto its back, then twisted it a third time and held the knob in the firing position for a moment. Fa-fa-fwump! went the bruteshot, unleashing three more projectiles at the creature in quick succession. The combined explosions sent the amphibian flying backwards, dislodging the corroded plating in the process.

As it shakily got back to its feet, Ian advanced, weapon ready to finish it off. "I'm not sure how many rounds this thing has left," he began, murder in his eyes, "so you gotta ask yourself: 'Do I feel lucky?' Well, do ya, punk?" The frog looked up at him, it's countenance a mask of fear, before it hurriedly hopped off with a wailing croak.

"Yeah, don't try that again, buddy." Ian muttered, then looked at what the beast had left behind. When he saw what it was, however, he began to feel sorry for the creature: what he had taken to be mere corroded metal was, in fact, a rusted, pitted mask. And not just any mask, at that. It was a corrupted Kanohi Pakari. "Ohhhhhhhh... Right." Ian remarked with a grimace. "It was being controlled by Makuta. Dammit."


Ian was startled by the sound, but quickly identified it as having come from the lizard thing. It was gazing at him inquisitively, head moving side to side in short, bird-like jerks. Before he could react, the winged raptor stepped in close to him and began rubbing it's face against his side.

I... I think it likes me... Ian thought to himself, as he freed one hand to rub the back of the critter's neck. It stiffened momentarily, before leaning into the gesture and making chirrupy purring sounds. "Alright, you," Ian said, smiling, "if you want, you can stick with me. Lemme just grab my stuff, though, ok?"

The little robo-lizard looked up at Ian questioningly, it's form eerily familiar to him, then glanced at where the Sylladex, cards, Strife Specibus, and Fetch Modus lay on the ground.

Rrrrk? it purred.

"Yeah, you're actually kinda cute, little guy." Dragging the bruteshot by the top-mounted handle, Ian collected the scattered items. Coming to a decision, he turned to the reptile beside him.

"You, my friend, need a name." He took a moment, giving the creature a good hard look, then made his choice. "How about... Jinka? It matches your silvery-grey metallic bits..."

Arrr! exclaimed the newly-dubbed Jinka, excitedly. Arrr, arrr-arrr! A little too excitedly, now that he thought about it... He looked in the same general direction as Jinka, and quickly identified what it was getting at: the spot where Ian's bruteshot had impaled the ground was now beginning to splinter and crumble, and a thick, viscous orange substance had begun leaking out at speed. And the cracks were spreading, just as fast.

"Ohhhhhhhhshit!" Ian exclaimed, then grabbed both Jinka and the bruteshot, and booked it towards the not-so-distant coastline. It didn't hurt to be overcautious with lava. ♪Ian and Jinka, running through the lava field, hoppin' breaks, dodgin' rocks, and tryin' to get away...!♪ he sang in his mind, ignoring Jinka's protesting squawks. ♪Birds are singin', flowers bloomin', gonna have a bad time! Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, what a flipping day!♪

He would have kept running, too, if he hadn't suddenly been beaned by a flying bamboo disk out of left field. The impact sent him tumbling to the ground, where he dropped Jinka and the bruteshot, the latter of which discharging yet another blazing explosive.

A nearby array of small boulders disintegrated under the resulting detonation, sending chips of stone and a few flame-colored figures flying.

"No, the Captain! You'll pay for that, stupid Rahi!" Came an unfamiliar voice. "Take that thing down! Aim for it's mask, and mind the Hikaki!" With that, a barrage of wooden disks the size of soup plates came flying towards him.

Wait, "Captain?" Ian thought to himself, as both he and Jinka dodged. Rahi? No way... "Hey, wait, hold up!" He exclaimed, as Jinka chomped on an incoming disk. "Will you-- whoah there!-- will you lot stop chucking those things at me for a sec?! Ow!!"

"We don't negotiate with agents of Makuta!" Came the reply.

"Oh yeah?! Then how am I talking, if I'm supposedly being mind controlled by that idiot?" His only answer was a disk to the face. "Ok, that's it!!! Matoran or not, you asked for it!" Ian began grabbing fallen disks and chucking them, frisbee-style, back at the figures, who were darting back and forth between the boulders.

He didn't hit a single one, however, because they were moving so fast. As he became angrier and angrier with each missed throw, his mask began to glow, until finally everything around him suddenly twisted. As soon as everything cleared up, Ian found himself on the other side of the boulders, looking right at his very confused aggressors, some of which had two legs, while others seemed to have four. Without stopping to think, he prepared to throw a disk hammer-style, but got no further than that. Instead, he was struck in the back of the neck by another disk, followed by a hard, blunt object colliding with his temple, and then he knew no more.

Author's Note:

Just a new idea I had, inspired by a Displaced fic I found, written by Company Master Sebaste, who changes his name on occasion. He is currently: Angelic Blades Sebaste

Thought I'd get in on the action.

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