Opening Notes: Ugh…so thanks to the Jesse Cox let's play of the incredible FF 16 thus far, with having JUST finished the Bahamut vs Ifrit and Phoenix fight, I've got bitten by yet ANOTHER idea. Unlike the last time I felt the stupid urge to write in Worm, however, I'm hoping to kinda do my own thing by starting somewhere other than Brockton Bay this time around, at least at first. So having said that, expect plenty of (hopefully) interesting OCs and the like. At any rate, let's get this on the road!

P.S. DO NOT SPOIL ANYTHING PAST THE BAHAMUT vs IFRIT AND PHOENIX FIGHT! If you do feel the urge to talk about FF 16 past that point, then please spoil the comment for those who haven't finished the story yet. Thanks!

P.S.S. Before I forget, but I'll likely be posting this on Subscribestar alongside a Star Wars story that I'm helping Nomad-117 with which he'll hopefully start putting up on QQ soon. Unfortunately his mother had what looked like a heart attack yesterday, so any plans of doing so will likely be delayed for some time, so for now if you want to see it, just check there for the time being. As for this however, if enough people like this insanity of mine, I'll maybe put up future chapters on Subscribestar before eventually posting them on QQ, but for now I'll just stick 'em where anyone can see 'em.

P.S.S.S. One last and somewhat important thing to note real quick, but I was never able to finish canon Worm, but I've read my share of fanfiction as anyone else has by this point I'm sure. Still, while I'll try my best to get characters right, expect mistakes, but while I'm always open to respectful criticism, don't be a dick is all I ask. Anyway, enough rambling from me lol.

Chapter 1

A New Beginning

While stories like these are a dime a dozen anywhere in the multiverse, which is indeed quite real, ours begins somewhat differently than is the norm. Most times, a ROB or Truck-kun comes along to reincarnate some random person on a whim, either for their selfish entertainment as they sow chaos and discord in whatever world their victim ends up being sent to in the case of a ROB, but while Truck-kun's reasons are much more mysterious most times it appears, the result is all too often the same as your average ROB victim. But every now and again, someone chooses to become transplanted and given powers in an entirely new world, and while most of these examples are driven by selfish desire, there are always exceptions to this general rule.

This is one such exception.

Because our 'victim' is not the norm in that he chose to leave his world behind, but it wasn't for power or a chance to explore the furthest reaches of reality to satiate whatever personal goal he might've had. No, his reason for doing so was born from one of the strongest emotions humanity is capable of, thus making him arguably far more dangerous depending on which ROB or other omnipotent being you might have the misfortune to come across one seemingly normal day out of any other.

For he did it for love in a bid to save someone dear to him.

As such, a bargain was struck, power exchanged hands, and our soon to be displaced plaything of beings far stronger than any of us could begin to imagine was sent on his way, but where many had panicked or had railed against their fate, he accepted his lot with both eyes open and a tear filled smile. Sure, he had left everything he'd ever known behind for the sake of the one he had saved with his sacrifice, but that they lived was all that had mattered to him at the time. As for what happened to this young man, well, that story is yet to unfold, for we come to the beginning of this man's journey.

So let us see what shall transpire together, shall we?

New York, Hell's Kitchen

August 27th, 2007, mid afternoon

He was born as Stephen Morrison, but that wasn't his name any longer.

Now he was something far more as he effortlessly jumped from one rooftop to the next, a beautiful white lance strapped to his back that matched the grayish white armor that adorned him. Despite looking akin to platinum, his mythril plate was light yet incredibly sturdy, as was to be expected given who his body had once been, a prince to a powerful nation until tragedy had struck his home. It was a long story that had ultimately ended in tragedy, one Stephen knew well enough to have nothing but sympathy for the former prince, but that he was now in possession of that same noble spirit and the power he'd come into was, despite the circumstances that had seen him here at all, truly extraordinary.

He just hoped it'd be enough to stop the end of this corner of reality.

Stephen knew enough about Worm to know the big threats by name, but not the finer details. Still, he came to a stop on a rooftop that gave an unobstructed view of an electronic store, and frowned when he saw it was a live news broadcast. Jumping down so he landed in a slight crouch behind an already gathered crowd that was watching the many TVs on display, Stephen paled somewhat when he saw what had their undivided attention.

"-eur, Jesse Dallon of New Wave has…been pronounced dead as of 2:01 PM. This is a terrible loss for both the Cape and civilian communities since she was an inspiration to many, choosing to reveal herself along with most of the formerly named Brockton Bay Brigade, and sparking nation-wide debate regarding Capes being able to be held to full accountability for their actions. This is…truly a sad day for us all to have such an inspirational figure cut down like this." Stephen might not have agreed with the intelligence on display in regards to announcing to the world one's true identity as Fleur and others like her had, but he could also see where they'd been coming from. That and it wasn't his place to judge in any event since he was a stranger in a strange land, newly arrived and not exactly being discreet, admittedly.

A fact he was reminded of when someone finally noticed his presence.

"Whoa…" A few of the gathered could only gawk at his appearance as Stephen smiled warmly at them in turn.

"My apologies for intruding during such a solemn moment." He replied, tone welcoming despite the sadness all too easy to feel in the air around him. "I too was drawn to the news as you all."

"Yeah…it's a sad day for everyone who was a fan of New Wave." One of the women before him sighed with a slow shake of her head. "Can't believe some punk kid murdered her in her own home like that!"

"She was a moron for revealing her real name in the first place," a gruff looking man retorted, drawing many looks ranging from shock to outrage in the same instant as he glared unapologetically right back. "What? She basically painted a giant target on her back, same with the rest of those idiots in New Wave!"

"She was just killed, have some goddamn respect!" The first woman retorted as she jabbed a finger towards his face.

"Fuck off, you know I'm right." The man started to move towards her, a hand balled into a fist at his side, but Stephen got there first, imposing himself between them. "Get outta my way, you blonde pretty boy."

"Raise your hand against an innocent bystander, and I will intervene." Stephen's voice didn't raise in volume, but it still held a note of unbending steel that had the burly man before him stepping away in a mix of surprise and fear. Inwardly Stephen was surprised at himself, having never been the type to so quickly step into an argument like this, but he didn't look away from the brute before him either as he added, "She's right in any event. Disagree all you wish, that is your right, but you will keep a level of civility in my presence. Am I understood, sir?"

The brute of a man spat out a curse but stormed away without another word, prompting a round of applause from the small audience that had since taken note of what was happening behind them. Stephen blushed slightly in response, while the woman he'd moved to protect put a hand on his upper arm with a grateful smile and a twinkle in her eyes. "Thank you for stepping in like that. Who are you though? You don't look like any Cape I know, hero or otherwise."

"I'm new to this city." Stephen admitted with a slight bow of his head. "Quite new in fact."

"A tourist then, or are you here to stay?" The woman wondered with a tilt of her head.

"Unsure, but I think I'll stay for a time at least." He replied, though he wasn't sure where to start looking for a place to stay as he adjusted the heavy bag that was also on his back. "For now, I should be going. Take care, and try not to get into trouble again."

She chuckled at that with a wry smile thrown over her shoulder as she started away. "I'll try."

With one last dip of his head, he watched the woman leave as the rest of the crowd dispersed soon after. Now that he'd had a moment to realize just when and where he was though, Stephen…no, Dion, he needed to get used to his new name and the appearance that came with it, set off to find a quiet place to go through his few possessions, and to figure out his next moves. Thus off to a nearby rooftop he went, his slender, tall, yet deceptively powerful frame, enhanced by the magic power flowing through every inch of his flesh, allowed him to make the jump with ease despite it being several dozen feet straight up from his current position. Such was the power of a Dragoon, but he was more than that given the power of Bahamut that was just beneath the surface, making him the Warden of Light, and the Eikon of the same. Not that the world at large had any idea of just what any of that meant, but they'd figure it out sooner or later.

And he was sure that his presence would rattle this world to its core once they did.

Finding a quiet place on a distant rooftop, Steph- Dion sighed and slung his heavy pack off his back before he began to rifle through its contents. What he found was both surprising to him, but also strangely reassuring since he quickly discovered that his omnipotent benefactor had been kind enough to give him documentation, passports, personal identification, things of that nature, ensuring that he wasn't a non-entity in Earth Bet. Checking his name on his ID, he hummed thoughtfully when he saw it was indeed what he'd taken to calling himself, Dion Lesage, making that part at least much easier to keep in his mind going forward. That his parents had immigrated from Athens, Greece, making him an American born and raised citizen, certainly explained where his name had come from he supposed, though he was saddened to see he also had a newspaper clipping of a gang attack that had apparently killed his parents just a few short years ago.

He'd been thirteen that day, making him sixteen now yet he looked older, eighteen at max.

Even so, seeing the article made Stephen's heart ache as 'memories' flashed behind his light brown, almost gold colored eyes. He blinked away a few tears before sighing heavily, putting everything back into his pack. An easy enough thing since the rest of his personal effects were mainly clothes and stacks of money that had equaled about two thousand dollars all told when he'd counted it. Why he was carrying that much money around was due to his rich uncle sending him on his way after one too many incidents with his new abusive wife had seen Dion ready to forget himself in a big way, which would've likely ended with most of the neighborhood in ruins had he lost his control over his burgeoning powers. Instead, his uncle had given him enough money to survive a few weeks if he were careful, and sent him on his way with his blessing once the emancipation paperwork had gone through.

Satisfied for the time being in any event, Dion set off once more, a cellphone in hand allowing him to search for housing and apartment adverts without missing a step. Fortunately for him, there were plenty of places right here in Hell's Kitchen, although few were within his ability to currently afford. And what few he could afford were…less than ideal, but they'd be enough for now.

The neighborhood he alighted upon after jumping from another rooftop was a collection of brick and concrete buildings, a number of small businesses scattered throughout. The buildings here weren't particularly tall, not like the towering skyscrapers that loomed in the distance on every side he cared to look, but there was something almost welcoming about the area despite the graffiti and gang tags that adorned some of the alleyways he'd passed along the way during his rooftop traversal to get here. Ignoring that for the time being, he eyed the apartment building his phone had directed him to, saw that it was indeed the right place, and pursed his lips since welcoming or not, this particular structure had clearly seen better days judging by the cracked and broken windows, the graffiti stained walls, and the obvious gang members leaning against the wall beside the front steps leading to the front doors of the building itself. Yet that didn't deter Dion as he jumped down and started for his new home for the time being, naturally drawing the eyes of the gang members. To his slight surprise, one held up a hand, and smirked as an almost liquid metal looking substance began to cover his dark skinned hand before writhing, spike tip tendrils appeared, consisting of the same liquid metallic substance.

"You lost, homeboy?" The Parahuman ganger inquired with a menacing smirk on his face, a metal stud sticking out of his nose, and some gang tattoo emblazoned on his right arm that was exposed, the sleeves of his gray t-shirt having been ripped off at some point, either by choice or from a previous fight he and his two companions had likely been in.

"I would ask that you let me pass. I seek no trouble." Dion was not in a mood to deal with such blatant stupidity that was being displayed by the three of them, but the Parahuman and his two companions were clearly not taking the hint that he was also something more given his attire and the halberd on his back.

"Oh there's a fee for passing through those doors." The silvery liquid controlling youth informed him as he let piercing blue eyes sweep up and down Dion's armored form. "And looks like you could afford more than most, pretty boy."

"Are you truly trying to extort money from me?" Dion retorted, dropping his pack before kicking it towards the building's front steps, getting it off his back while also keeping it out of the three's reach at the same time. "You do realize you're not the only one with power here, correct?"

"Maybe, but what are you gonna do, poke me with your fancy stick?" The Parahuman retorted with a sneer, his entire body soon enough covered in the liquid metal, becoming something akin to a knockoff T-1000 from Terminator 2: Judgment Day. "Tinkers and Brutes don't do shit to me, homeboy. You really thin-"

Dion's answer was as swift as any Dragoon's, faster in his case as he threw his weapon through the young man. While his liquid metal form was indeed quite resistant to physical attacks he realized, his lance was as empowered as Dion himself, the force of the throw alone causing a shockwave of air and force to pull the silvery man apart as it passed through his altered flesh at the same time a burst of magical light engulfed him, burning him down to his blackened soul on its way through. Dion had since lept after his weapon, passing through what little remained of the Parahuman, and ripped his lance free of the building's wall with a flourish that had the remaining two gang members reeling back, stumbling over themselves to get away from him as fast as their trembling legs could carry them. "Never bother these people again!" Dion called after them, only to frown when the liquid metal remains began trying to pull itself together. "I think not."

Another pulse of holy light washed over the liquid metal man, burning away the remnants moments later, leaving nothing left to say he'd ever been there. Dion sighed and shook his head sadly however. "All you had to do was let me pass unmolested. I hope you find peace in the next life." It was only after he'd put his lance back on his back before he bent down to grab his heavy pack did he notice he had eyes on him from the apartment building itself, likely one of the residents. He straightened, and awkwardly waved towards one of the few curtained windows in question, only for the watcher behind the curtain to quietly gasp before letting the curtain fall, cutting off his sight of the watcher in the same instant. "So much for a good first impression." Dion sighed, understanding all too well why the people inside were likely scared, of him, of the Parahuman he'd so effortlessly destroyed. Something told him the local Parahuman authorities would be here soon, and he'd have many questions to answer.

He just hoped they'd see more reason than the empowered ganger and his two lackeys had.

End Notes: So…confession time, Thomas Johnston and his Living Up to a Legend was partially responsible for this story, inspiring me to try something similar despite how much I DO NOT like Worm. With that said, my tentative ideas for this will hopefully be interesting enough to make this insanity stand out in its own way, although I'd greatly appreciate having some help since my Worm knowledge isn't nearly as complete as I'd like it to be, and the wikipedia is lacking in many respects. However, the last time I tried to do a Worm story, my beta at the time turned out to be a manipulative liar that was also a Taylor simp, and he decided to fuck off once he got what he wanted so you'll forgive me if I take any advice with a grain of salt given I've been burned before. At any rate, I write only on Google Drive, so a gmail is kinda required, but if anyone's still willing, I'll be happy to have you. See ya for now guys and gals.