A/N: Hey everyone! Welcome to my newest self insert fic! Today, I'll be ruining classic Nintendo games for you. Also, I will be borrowing a couple of concepts used in the EXCELLENT webcomic "Captain SNES" for this fic, but not whole cloth. Be sure to look that one up—it's hilarious, badass, nostalgic, fascinating, and all-around epic.
I do not own anything beyond the OCs in this story. Nintendo, on the other hand, owns my mortal soul.
You know how in every "summoned to a fantasy world to save it from destruction" story, they always get some kid or other average loser to be the hero? Well, I myself always wondered why they did those stories that way. If you think about it, it really doesn't make much sense at all, does it? I mean, if they can summon some random kid, surely they could actively look for someone who's actually QUALIFIED to be a hero, right? There would have to be billions of soldiers, policemen, martial artists, etc., far more qualified for hero-ing. And yet they always go for the wimpy schmuck. I thought it was just lazy writing. But as it turns out, it's not.
It's just plain bad luck at its worst. But hey, you know what they say: heroes are made, not born—right?
I guess I ought to introduce myself. The name's Casey Kendall, average wimpy loser schmuck kid. Well, I was actually fifteen when this all happened, but I guess it doesn't matter. I must have gotten stuffed in more lockers than any other guy in the nation by hundreds of pathetic lowlifes who had nothing else to do than to pick on the nerd. Which is the technical term for "one with glasses who is good at and kind of enjoys schoolwork and therefore has no life". About the only consolation I had from all of that was my love of classic video games from the NES and SNES eras. Well, the joke's on those jerks—or, at least it would be, if I could tell anyone what happened to me.
See, as it turns out, all the games I grew up with, all the ones that I enjoyed at that time? They're real. As in, really, really, REAL. And they were under assault in the worst way.
PALACE OF GATES
"We've barred the doors. That should buy us a few minutes..."
"A few minutes isn't NEAR long enough, Belmont! Her highness needs more time to narrow down her search!"
"You think we don't know that?! It's not like we have any other way of slowing them down—"
"If the three of you could be silent for a few moments, I might be able to complete this task more quickly!"
"Well, excuse me, Princess..."
The sounds of heavy fighting rang through the marble halls, and even the heavy doors sealing the chamber could not block the sound completely. Three warriors stood at the ready, one with his whip and a vast array of thrown weapons, another garbed in red and black with a strange cannon on one arm, and the last with a sword and shield. The three young men were guarding a tall, slender woman in flowing garb as she began to cast a spell, one powerful enough to rend space and time asunder in the hope of locating one that could aid their world in its most desperate hour.
Similar magics already flowed through the building in which they stood, but far more limited in scope, for these merely bridged the gap between worlds that were already connected. This spell would create an entirely new connection, to a world only spoken of in rumors and whispers, a world whose inhabitants held unspeakable power, a power whose existence its wielders were entirely unaware of. The power to break the very laws of reality and bridge the gaps between worlds in ways that no one from any known plane was capable of, not even their enemies.
The thought of bringing such a being into their world would have given them great pause, were it not for the dire situation they were in. Darkness flowed between the worlds, calling to it the worst villains in each, offering great and terrible power in return for their service. The greatest heroes of all those worlds rose in response, but the sheer size and scope of the enemy forces made their resistance feeble. They needed a trump card, a game-changer. They needed a hero.
To that end, a spell had been designed—it would gather together all the magics within the palace onto a single point, search the world beyond worlds for one with the mind, heart, body, and soul of a hero, and pull them toward the source of the spell in hopes that the hero summoned could save their world. But finding such a hero would take time. Countless souls had to be searched—the relic whose mark was branded on the back of the princess' hand granted her wisdom and insight that would make the process quicker, but even with that, the sheer number of individuals in the other world was daunting.
"Gods of Magic, those who hold the keys to reality, heed your daughter's call! Pierce the veil between realms with your light, that I may seek one who shall save your creation!"
Brilliant lights converged in the center of the room, forming a window of sorts; the window showed face after face in such rapid succession that none but the princess, with her magically enhanced senses and mind, could perceive as anything but a blur.
"Princess, have you found them?"
"Not yet... I'm getting closer, though..."
"Well, hurry it up! They're almost through the door!"
The massive doors shook with the fury of the creatures behind it. The whip wielder and the swordsman held their ground, but their companion could wait no longer. The red-garbed warrior ran to the princess, grabbing her wrist.
"Princess, make your choice now or we're all dead!"
"Stop, you'll ruin—"
"Proto, no!"
"They're through!"
THE HUMAN WORLD
Another day, another bruise. Who decided gym class had to be taught by the same brand of idiot who already makes the rest of my school life a living hell?
A young fifteen-year-old boy kicked a pebble along the ground with his feet, his back hunched from the weight of heavy books on an already weak frame as he nursed a sore spot on his side from the latest academically-endorsed mandatory competitive physical torture session—better known as 'dodgeball'.
In case you haven't guessed, yes, that was me. Little did I know that dodgeball would be a blessing compared to the crap that I would have to go through on a regular basis—starting with the sudden explosion of every electric light in the immediate area.
"WHAT THE HELL?!"
As the whole alleyway I was walking through went all Highlander on me, a powerful wind picked up as a hole in the world opened in front of me, a blinding light shining through. I felt myself pulled helplessly off my feet, tumbling into the light...
PALACE OF GATES
The forces of darkness retreated briefly from the blinding light of the spell, just long enough for the whip wielder and the swordsman to seal the doors once more before turning around to see the face of their savior.
To say they were disappointed was a severe understatement.
"This is a hero?"
"He's no hero, he's just a kid! Look, he doesn't even have one muscle on him!"
"Damn you, if you hadn't interrupted her—"
"ENOUGH."
The three warriors turned from the unconscious form in the center of the room towards their princess's voice. The rightful Ruler of Worlds panted from exhaustion. "Arguing over the current situation will not save anyone. Whoever this is, they will have to do; that spell exhausted all the magic this place had left, and it will likely take years to regenerate the power necessary to repeat. Sending him back and trying again is out of the question."
The swordsman looked back towards the door. "Yeah. And they already bashed those doors open once—if we're going to escape, this is our only chance."
The red warrior was already uncovering the wall panel that concealed the secret exit from the Palace of Gates. "Then we'd better get moving. Belmont, grab the kid. I'll take point."
Once he was through, The Vampire Killer lifted the teen over his shoulder and followed the robot through the corridor, with the other two members of their party not far behind, the entrance to the hidden corridor vanishing once again just as the enemy breached the chamber.
I didn't know where I was—it was too dark to see. But at the moment, I didn't register anything beyond the splitting headache.
"Hrnng... someone get the number of that truck..."
"Hey, he's waking up!"
I vaguely recognized that I was being carried fireman-style, and that the voice came from the one carrying me. I had a moment's panic.
"HOLY CRAP OH GOD WHAT'S GOING ON PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!"
Okay, more like a moment's near pants-wetting terror. Good thing it was only NEAR pants-wetting—I don't think I could have handled the humiliation from that, let alone the great pain I would have suffered at the hands of the heavily-built man carrying me. Fortunately, I kept just enough composure to avoid doing so, and the man in question quickly spoke to calm me down, though the deep bass and rough timbre of his voice didn't help.
"Hey, calm down, kid! We're not going to hurt you!"
"He could get us all killed if he yells like that again. In case you haven't noticed, there's a bit of an echo in these halls."
That second voice came from ahead of us; it sounded almost entirely human, save for a barely noticeable metallic twinge to it. A voice from nearby followed it, this one carrying with it a much more natural timbre.
"Proto, can you maybe stop being a jerk for one second? You're the reason he's here!"
"This 'jerk' is currently trying to get us all out of here alive—!"
"Quiet, all of you! This is getting us nowhere!"
The final voice was different from all the others. Feminine and full of grace, but with a definite undertone of "don't mess with this person or they will never find your body". Then that same voice spoke to me, but instead of intimidating me with its authority and presence, it filled me with a strange sort of warmth and peace that had an immediate calming effect.
"Do not be afraid, child. You are safe with us. Remain still and quiet, and I promise nothing will hurt you. All of your questions will be answered in due time..."
It was still too dark to see, but in spite of my initial impression of "oh shit, oh shit, I'm being kidnapped", I found myself believing that last voice. Whoever it was, she spoke as if it were a statement of fact rather than a simple reassurance. I nodded, holding on tightly to the one carrying me.
Suddenly, we emerged from the long corridors through which we had been travelling into a large chamber lined with torches; the burly man carefully set me down on my feet before helping to steady me. It took several seconds for my eyes to adjust to the change in light enough for me to see anything, but nothing could have prepared me for the shock of who had been speaking to me. For I was now surrounded by four fictional characters.
Simon Belmont, the Vampire Killer.
Protoman, the First Son of Light.
Link, the Hero of Hyrule.
And last, but not least, Princess Zelda.
"I did not expect to say this to one so young, and I wish it were under brighter circumstances, but for the sake of politeness, I shall say it all the same: Welcome to our world, child. We have much work to do."
For those of you who remembered the awful original cartoon, no, this is not the brainless idiot Belmont from that show. This is the badass barbarian-looking dude on the original Castlevania cartridge art. And yes, that was a reference to The Protomen near the end there.
