Warehouse of Fiction: Prologue [A Land of the Lost inspired Multicross SI] (Patreon)

Neo Fantasia

Sleep had always been an ever elusive thing for him, an all too familiar occurrence with his lack of a proper schedule. With such fleeting instances of proper sleep, he savored every second of it, keeping his eyes shut even as he woke up early. Normally in times like these, when his eyes still felt heavy and his body weary, he would just merely roll over his soft bed and fluff up his pillows but that did not greet him. Instead, he felt shifting sand beneath his body as he shifted around.

“Why does it feel like I’m laying on the ground?” He asked before he stopped, freezing as he heard the cry of some great bird piercing through the sky.

With a gasp, he jolted awake, eyes flying open he scrambled up onto his feet. He slipped, crashing against the sandy ground before he managed to pick himself up. As he looked around, his brow sweat as the heat of the afternoon sky bore down on him from above, he found himself in a place that was not his own room but a place far alien than his mind could have ever dreamed off.

Falling down to his knees, he gaped in wide eyes awe as there before him was not just ever shifting dunes of sand but ships, both great and small dotting the landscape. From advanced aircraft carriers and their broken decks, to great sailing ships of old with their tattered sails fluttered in the wind. There was no end in sight as they lay there unmoving, their rusting and rotting hulk standing proudly as the desert around him preserved them for all time.

The strangeness of it would only get worse as his eyes started tracing the shape of great skyscrapers sized triangles in the distance resting along cathedrals. Great Pyramids laid sidewards with strange metallic structures jutting from them. And amongst all of these strange… spaceships was one that stood out the most, one saucer ship half buried in the sand with the faded name atop its still glinting hull.

“NCC-1701,” He whispered as he slowly got up to his feet, looking around and find just more and more of these supposedly fictional craft around him. Why was he here? How did he even get here… to this strange land of the lost, and most importantly, “Where am I?”

Wincing as a bead of sweat rolled onto his eyes with the desert heat beating upon his brow, he scrambled for cover, trying to get away from sun which was intent in cooking him alive. Despite his blurry eyes, he quickly found his darkened glass glinting on the ground along with the bright blue bag he always carried around when he commuted.

Making a dash for it, he quickly grabbed the bag along with his glasses before running for the great shadow of some nameless Clipper. Pressing himself against the dried barnacle covered hull, he sighed in relief as the sun's heat no longer tormented him. Grimacing, he slowly sat down and slipped on his glass, thanking his younger self for picking up a pair of photochromic lenses, before taking stock on what he had.

Opening his bag, he found his usual ensemble, a folder containing important documents, a vacuum flask filled with water, an umbrella with a flashlight, another emergency light, some saltine crackers to fill his stomach, candies for motion sickness, some loose change and bills, his backup wallet and a power bank that was already half drained.

Feeling himself up, he found that he didn’t get scratched or sunburnt. He’d find himself in his jeans and one of his shirts along with his running shoes, the only good pair. It was strange, sure, to wake up in his outside clothes yet it was a welcome change. Patting both pockets, he’d find his keys, phone and wallet still on him, the latter two useless but the last one, the last one he could use.

Quickly fishing it out of his pocket, he’d find his phone, fully charged instead of half whenever he forgets to charge up. “Ok, let's see if you have a signal,” he muttered, cheering as he found that he had bars, even if it was just 3G; More than enough. Quickly dialing his loved ones, he waited but all that answered him was an automated voice.

“The number that you have dialed…” The robotic voice called out before he cut it off and moved on the next number but again the voice answered back, taunting him.

“Thought as much,” he whispered before he noticed that he was geting internet signal as well. With a giddy smile, he opened his discord… and found an empty list, as if it wasn’t picking up anything. Grimacing, he then went on to Gmail but… the thing that greeted him wasn’t Gmail or what he was used to… instead he found an old one, a version from much simpler times. He could still type emails yes… but why the hell was it old?

With dread filling his veins, he opened Microsoft and was greeted by the old logo of Google. “What the fuck…” he whispered, searching up his usual stomping ground but was greeted by either errors or strange versions of them. Even google searches weren’t matching up, as if every search was sending him to another place and time, but mostly outdated. He… might have been distracted by Hitler.

Shaking his head, he quickly noticed half an hour had passed and that his bar was draining fast. Scolding himself, he quickly turned everything down, making sure to conserve as much power as he could. “You have the internet, don’t waste it,” he muttered as he peered out into the distance and wondered where he should go.

He was stranded here for the lack of better terms but staying here in his position was a death sentence. The shifting sands might be cold now but enough documentaries would remind him that it will get cold fast. He had neither a jacket or thick enough clothes to survive what was to come so best to go search… somewhere, anywhere.

“Right,” He told himself as he got up, rolling his shoulders as he pulled his umbrella and slung his bag. He needed to move, he just needed to pick a direction. Looking around, he quickly found one nearby, a derelict ship nearby. A fearsome look ship, It poked out of the sands with its distinctly triangle shape but far smoother appearance than those of Star Destroyer. Its faded blue and red hull and its pointed bow standing defiant despite being cracked in half. “Thataway,” he whispered as he opened his umbrella and started walking.

-x-x-x-

Wiping the sweat off his brow, he stabbed his pipe staff to the ground before he pulled out his flask to get himself a drink. With the shade of his umbrella, he was able to stave off most of the heat but he had been walking for hours already, exploring every new wreck he could come across.

Rummaging through his now heavier bag, he was able to get something useful, like a length of rope from some newer looking rigging as well as a knife but his most important find was some shrink wrapped rations from a ship. “Exelion, you were the best find I had,” he patted the small stack of food he got from the first ship. It was a good haul overall he told himself as he drank heavily, drinking as much as he could.

“Don’t ration your water, it’ll kill you faster.” He whispered as he slipped it back inside. Shaking his aching head, he squinted as he looked around, trying to find some place to rest. Strangely, the sun had neither moved nor dimmed at all in the sky, it was as if some great sun lamp was placed overhead instead of a sun.

“At Least you won't have to deal with the cold night,” he muttered… but that meant he couldn’t get water from the morning dew. It was… neither good nor bad. Good that he wasn’t going to die from the cold but bad that he’d have a harder time finding water in this already parched waste land.

Trudging on, he picked a particularly tall ship with its fin-like vertical hull, as his shade for now. Walking up to the thing, he saw just how huge it was, standing taller than any building he’d seen before he got here despite being buried in the sand. Looking up to it, he couldn’t help but fall at awe, as if someone decided to make a ship big enough to fit everyone inside.

Pulling up his staff, he walked over to the shade it provided. As he got closer, he couldn’t help but get the feeling that it was lonely. Shaking off the feeling, he sat down and leaned against the rusting hulk, feeling already weary and tired. The silence, aside from the sparse cries of birds, was almost deafening. The sheer desolation was only made worse by the sheer scale of it all. The desert simply stretched on and on, from one horizon to the other with the hulks of ships serving as background. It felt…hopeless.

He felt alone, so alone. Curling up, he held his legs close, just hoping that this was just all a dream, just a cruel nightmare to test him but like the desert around him, there was no end in sight. “Is there really no one here?” he asked, eyes wandering before he froze.

In the distance, he saw dark dog-like shapes cresting the hill, the scythe-like appendages atop their body sending shivers down his spine. Ice filled his veins as he watched the head of one turn its head and looked straight at him. “Fuck!” He cursed as he hurriedly stuff his things in his bag.

Crackling screeches and hisses filled the air as they started bounding towards him. His limbs moved on their own as he picked himself up and bolted. With a staff in his hands, he ran, heart pounding and blood rushing in his ears as he put his long legs to use but these Zergling would prove just why they were the creature of choice for Zergs.

Dozens of them flowed out from behind the dunes, locking on him with ease. Their snarling cries get closer with each passing second, his mind screaming at him to do something. He ran for a ship, hoping they would break sight but he’d find they weren’t too far behind.

He screamed as a dark figure lunged at him with their maw wide open. Skidding to a stop, he watched in morbid fascination as their purple emaciated form leaped over him, before tumbling on the sandy desert ground. Scrambling to his feet, he barely had time to react as it pounced at him once more.

On instinct, he grabbed his pipe and swung, Striking true with the creature’s head buckling under his lead pipe but it ended up breaking his only weapon as well. He could only watch in horror as the thing simply shook its head before picking itself up shakily and what's more, his friend was closing it for fun.

Dropping his weapon, he turned tail and fled once more. Even as his lungs burned, he kept running, eyes ahead as zerglings kept popping out from the shadows of the ship. He dodge, weaving through the maze of ships as his hunters started closing in, their glinting caws reaching out for him.

His luck would eventually run out as he ran straight into a dead end, a corridor made from the hulk of WW2 destroyers. Bones littered the ground, their bodies stripped of flesh. With high walls on all sides except the entrance, he found himself trapped in a kill zone and the damn creature led him right into it. Slowing to a casual walk, the zerglings snarled at him, maw dripping as they hissed and crackled at him.

Stepping back, he held out his shaking hands, his limbs trembling as he desperately looked around for something, anything! It was then that he’d caught sight of a simple longsword stuck to a stone, seemingly smashed up against the side of a ship. Turning around, he ran, pulling the sword out before turning around, just in time to see a Zergling leap at him.

With speed borne out of desperation, he swung and his blade bit through flesh, cleaving the creature in twine. The zerglings paused, backing away as they leered at him while he stared dumbly at his immaculate blade. Green blood slid off its length while the creature’s two halves twitched in front of him. With renewed vigor, he raised his blade clumsily, breathing heavily as he shouted in challenge, “Come on you fuckers! I’m at least taking another one of you with me! I’m not just worth one of you shits!”

With a shaky breath, he resigned himself to his fate but that doesn’t mean he could not die in a blaze of glory. If he was going to die, then at least he’d die fighting. There was a pause as they stared off against one another, waiting for the right time, each beat of his heart getting fainter and taking longer to hear as blood rushed in his ears.

A warcry ripped itself out of the creatures as they lunged at him and he roared back, raising sword as he met his end. This however would not be as a golden streak sailed across the air before slamming down upon the zerglings. Blood and viscera came flying as the form of a golden bird, a Chocobo, and its rider landing atop his foe.

“Take my hand!” The figure shouted, their feminine tone ringing out clearly, as they held out their hands to him. As surprised as he was, he couldn’t feel happier as he grabbed before his screams filled the air. Pulled atop the giant bird mount, he almost felt his arms get pulled off as he was swept away from the jaws of death.

With a great leap, the Chocobo sailed across the sky before landing atop the ship. With the confused and stunned zergling stuck in the corridor, they leapt away, the man whooping out as he got to live another day.