Chapter Text
I hadn't even opened his eyes for the day, and he already knew something had already gone catastrophically wrong.
Firstly, this was not MY bed. Upon any other circumstance, this is hardly usual. I didn't spend much time sleeping in my bed. The one bed that was solely my own, whilst having a wonderful view of Akkala, but it didn't quite have vibes required for restful unconsciousness. No, what made this unusual was the novelty of my awakening. It wasn't my bed in Hateno, the tide pools of Zora's domain, or the pile of feathers, wool, and belonging that accompanied visits to Rito's domain, it most certainly didn't match the restful spa or silken sheets of late nights spent relaxing and gossiping in Gerudo town, nor did it hold the serenity of the bed within the Deku Tree. In fact, not even bedding down in a patch of stinging moss quite matched the coarseness and itchiness of the fabric that blanketed him. It was frankly awful. Monsters slept with softer bedding than this. And the fact that it wasn’t the bed I remembered going to bed in.
Secondly was the noise. The world around me was restless, both like and completely different from the Landing's shelter, the Yiga hideout, or any other of the busy places where I irregularly rested my head. However, rather than the mundane business of the lookout, or the silent purpose that could be heard throughout the hideout, or even the eternal motion of the wild, this noise was quite brash, with metal shifting about, people talking without a care in the world for those around them. Quite so, in fact, from what I had heard, anywhere from two to three people were on their way over now to "get him up, one way or another '' at this very moment.
All things considered, I was rather content with letting this play out. The world had insofar proved itself to endlessly pleasantly surprise me, and never let it be known that I was not one to turn down a good time. A hush fell over the room, a dozen people's breath seeming stolen away from them as my surprise deliverers approached my presumed bedside, metal boots clinking softly against stone tile. They set something to the side, took a step, and drew a blade, (presumably a broadsword or scimitar from the sound of the metal on the sheath) and struck down on something, meal crunching through armour and tearing flesh.
The scent hit me first. It was only then I began to react, initially with glee. Someone had just cut open a Hearty Durian. They weren't extinct! At least one specimen must have survived the environmental shock from the blood-moon enforced artificial ecological Homeostasis ending suddenly! Well, that and rampant "Heroic Overharvesting", but mostly the first thing! I sat up, opening my eyes for the first time and targeted the Durian. I NEED IT'S SEED! I snatched the entire fruit, yanking it off the end table and into my arms, Soldier's broadsword and all. Instinctively, I attempted to encode the fruit, reaching down to my side to activate my Purah Pad. It wasn't on my hip. It was only then that I inspected my surroundings. I was in a large stone room, the sides lined with beds, with dozens of people staring at me, each in the heavy armour of a soldier. Each and every one was pristine, shining as brightly as the day it was cast. That was impossible. There weren't that many sets left in perfect condition. That left only one conclusion. I turned my head to face the soldier at my side. I looked into his eyes, and forty kilos of granite dropped to the bottom of my stomach as the world pulled back, my senses dulling as a memory set it.
"Link, I'm going to need my sword back."
No. No no no. That's not possible. We swore never again. We SWORE it. We took a stand, and decreed it shall be no more, in front of the eyes of the goddess.
“Link?”
THIS shouldn't be happening. And yet it was. I needed a plan. I needed a way back. A way forward? I needed to think.
‘Link!” The soldier screamed, reaching for the Durian.
What I didn't need was more distractions. I slammed my head forward, smashing my head against the soldier’s helmeted head, who had clambered onto the bed after me, knocking them onto the floor. The world swam for a bit, but the memory didn't come back, so it worked. I leapt up, reached for an nonexistent bow, and tricked myself into focusing, the world slowing down around me, granting me precious time to think. I scanned the room. The rest of the soldiers were looking quite surprised, but a few were drawing their weaponry. I still had my six six rings, the Zonite gauntlet covering my left arm (Likely placing an benevolent or irreverent entity as the source of my displacement, as opposed to some other hostile entity capable of time travel). The Purah Pad was missing, and so was my paraglider, quiver, and another dozen small pouches filled with random trinkets and supplies, along with the Ancient Blade I kept constantly on my person. I was equipped with half an improperly cut Durian, a Soldier's broadsword, an pair of woollen pants which was neither warm nor defensible, no shirt, and an knit hat which I had covering my ears, which unless it proved to be infused with Amber or Diamonds, was likely similarly irrelevant. I took a deep breath, double checked the ceiling for an easy exit, and stopped focusing, the world quickly catching up, landing on the ground in a crouch.
I immediately bounded forward, mantling the bed I woke up in, and used my attacker as a launchpad, springing off another bed, and diving across the room. I refocused, completely defying the principles of momentum, the laws of gravity and polite suggestions regarding projectile motion through pure force of stamina, twisting midair to land in an one-armed handstand atop a dresser. I grunted, and dug my fingers into the dresser, a tornado erupting out of the drawers, spewing Yiga tags and mismatched socks across the room. It bulldozed through the room, coming to a rest beneath a shield laying against the opposite wall. I flicked, sending a pulse of magic through the conduit it laid, sending a stone brick from the wall rocketing towards me. I dropped down, landing on my feet just in time to sidestep the flying brick and snatch the shield it carried with it from the air. Evidently, the shock had wornoff for most of the soldiers, as most had their weapons drawn. The world seemed to stand still as I levelled my durian-covered sword at the crowd. They were worried. They knew fear. I set my sword against the edge of my shield, drawing it slowly towards myself, extracting the blade from the Durian, and making a rather intimidating scraping noise. The Durian popped off the blade, and I urged my gauntlet to life, bands Zonite uncoupling and floating off my arm, securely fusing the Durian to my shield, and blindly fusing something to my sword.
"Your not Link." One of them stated, seemingly incredulous of the fact that I was from the future as I was enraged at that fact. I smiled, raising my guard, and slowly backing towards the door. "GET HIM!" Immediately, someone who I imagine thinks themselves quite sneaky tries to impale me from behind with a spear. I pivot, smack them upside the head with the flat of my sword, the pair of boots freshly fused to the end of the hilt wrapping around their head. They rear back, making a try at a headbut, but I step into the blow, shattering the boot-whip against their helmet, snatching the spear from their grasp as they fall to the floor. I rolled forward, ducking under an incoming claymore. My gauntlet flashed yellow as the world froze, losing pallour as recall activated. Rather inconveniently this left me frozen halfway through a rather taxing feat of acrobatics, I twisted the targeting reticle to its tolerances, selecting the stone block. The world returned to colour as the stone block came bowled over the soldier, leaving a rectangular dent in their armour as I crashed to the floor. Unfortunately, they had the indecency to take their claymore with them in their surprise trip across the room. I grabbed the spear from where it had fallen, and rolled to the side, slipping right out of the way of another soldier with a spear, slipping into a flurry rush, I leapt to my feet, walking backwards through the world in slow motion. I put the spear into my teeth, and undid the latch on the bulkiest section of the Zonite Gauntlet, a leather flap swung down, I grabbed the Schema Cartridge for the T.M.K.K V8 from it’s pocket, and slotted it in, slapping the cartridge deck flush with the rest of the gauntlet, and thrusted my arm forward. Rather than growing purple, floating off my skin, and assembling an automated assault cart, covered completely in spikes, mighty bananas, and fitted with a gimbal mounted pulse tri-laser emitters, the ring stayed dormant, firmly affixed to my arm, with Josha’s voice emanating from the gauntlet. "Zonite!" Right. I rebuttoned the pouch, and scrambled away, the rush fading away, leaving stamina reserves moments away from depletion. I threw myself into a shield surf towards the door, flipping over the downed spearman. An arrow grazed my shoulder as I reached the door, and I threw it open, immediately coming face to face with someone who seemed eerily familiar. I distinctly recognised them, but I couldn't put a name to his face. I attempted to past him, but the spear in my mouth got caught on the doorframe.
"Do you mind if I push on past?" I mumbled through the spear in my mouth.
"Don't let him escape!" One of the soldiers behind me yelled. Much to my own surprise, they attempted to deck me! Some random guy? I can understand a soldier, but not some well dressed twink! I leapt back, slipping into a flurry rush. Much to my suprise, they weaved out of my thrusherpunch, but they failed to catch the second, a rocket jab to the jaw dazing them long enough for me to scurry out sideways through the door.
And my worst fear was instantly shattered, and instantly replaced with a horror infinitely worse. The spear clattered to the ground, as the castle rose above the cityscape. It was unbroken, the skies were clear, a Bloodless moon looming behind its spires. I was in the past. Or very far in the future. Either way, Zelda was alone. Was she? I eyed the castle.She might have come back too. Might as well ask. I dug my foot under the spear, kicking it up, and placing it on my back.. Well, best to get going. An arrow slammed into my back, the point digging into my back, despite the shield. Now. It's time to go now.
I took off to the side, sprinting through the twilight streets, and ducking in the first sidestreet I saw, stopping in an alcove to take a breath. I hadn't a second to rest before the sound of metal boots rattled around the corner, soldiers swarming, a bell regularly tolling in the background. I peered around the corner, watching as soldiers ran out from the barracks, rushing down the road. I retreated back as two soldiers broke off from the crowd, coming down the alley. I ran out of the alley, the soldiers yelling for help, then charging me with broadswords drawn. I unslung my spear, fusing an nearby barrel to the tip. They stopped their charge, raising their shields, understandiby wary of the mighty barrel-sledge, but they still approached. I braced myself, drawing the spear back as I prepared to rush them. They hesitated. They looked at each other. They nodded to each other.
"Nobody IMPERSONATES our friends and gets away with it!" The braver one yelled, lowering his profile, tightening his guard and rushing me. The other turned and ran. I unleashed the floodgates on the first man, my flurry of blow shattering his guard, then the barrel against his chestplate, spilling rancid water all over the alley. The Soldier staggered back, gagging and swinging blindly. I leapt past his strike, rushing through his guard, and delivered an gauntleted punch directly into his face. They staggered back, the sword falling from their hand as they fell against the wall of the alley. I took the time to avail them of their broadsword, helmet, and shield. With a freshly sword-shield, I leapt up a wall, and set off for the castle.
People before the Calamity were really aggressive. And they were rude too, that bell had been constantly ringing, and it was what, no later than five in the morning. Really, why were they making all that racket?