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A Final Fantasy XIV and Bioshock: Infinite Crossover Fanfiction.Â
The works of Final Fantasy XIV and Bioshock: Infinite all belong to their respective owners. Please note that due to its setting in the late 1800's to early 1900's, Bioshock: Infinite has many themes of racism and white supremacy. I will do my best to tone these themes down and censor them where I can.
Tyonis Magstrom always had a soft spot for girls in trouble, so when a strange duo drags him through time and space to free a young woman, he decided to offer his help. Or so he’d like to think. Honestly, they didn't give him much of a choice.Â
Warning: Contains Bioshock: Infinite spoilers.
Chapter 1: A Shift in Constants
How long have I floated idle, in this place? A year, maybe two? Or maybe I just arrived. Perhaps eternity already expired – at least my sense of time had. My thoughts wander as I drift across this endless space, cradled by eldritch powers. I recall and moments and memories, if only to not forget my own identity. I remember the feeling of blood between my fingertips as I took life after life. I reveled in that nostalgic mayhem, for it was undeniable proof of my spirit as a warrior. As a creature who could only acknowledge his existence on the battlefield, these memories preserved my mind like the magic of Althyk protected my body from the void surrounding me.
At some point, I came to realize that this realm I drifted through existed between time and space. This revelation certainly didn’t alleviate the boredom, however. And reminiscing could only last for so long. I grew bored of reliving my life – of fighting adversaries I’ve already slain.  Like a good story told too many times or a book read one-hundred times over, my memoirs began to grow stale and my mind began to stagnate.
I was aware there were others who were sent to this realm between realms. Like me, they were warriors who chose to stand against the Garlean Empire on Carteneau Flats. If only to occupy my mind with something tangible, I briefly wondered how they were coping with the eternal monotony. But at the end of my many musing, I could only acknowledge one thing: this endless boredom was slowly killing me. Eventually, my mind refused to continue the roundelay of memories, and I fell into a deep sleep akin to the abyss of death.
So when a voice called out, I ignored it.
It came again, but pitched painfully high. My mind stirred at the familiar sound. It was the bloodcurdling scream of someone experiencing immense pain and suffering. At first, I thought I was simply reliving an old memory, but the volume and weight of the screams made them feel much more tangible than the wisps of voices I grew accustomed to hearing.
“Mr. DeWitt! Booker! Booker! Don’t die Booker, please!â€
DeWitt? Booker? No, that wasn’t my name. This endless abyss had yet to strip me of my sense of self.
“Someone help me… please…†The voice began to sob.
Despite my inane desire to remain dormant, I open my eyes at the piteous whine and find myself sitting in a cushioned chair, in front of a large table full of alchemist equipment.
“Well, how unexpected.†Came a male voice.
“Unexpected, but not improbable. M-Theory or Ultimate Ensemble?†Returned a female voice.
I drag my murky vision up toward the pair. Instinctively,one hand reaches for the hilt of my sword. I relax as my fingers grip familiar steel.
“Neither, I suspect. Does he even understand us?†Asked the male.
“I’m not deaf,†I grind out, blinking hard.
“What language are we speaking, now?†He prodded.
“What else would we speak in Eorzea?†I spit back, my voice sandy and hoarse.
“Well, I imagine this experiment has become much more complicated. Shall we abandon this attempt?†The female suggested. Inwardly, I cringed.
“But a change in constants may be what the experiment needs. If it fails, there’s always next time. Perhaps he’ll row. No, it’s too late for that, I suspect. Pity.â€
“Row?†I repeat, confused. “What are you talking about?†I hissed angrily, my voice gathering strength. “Who are you two? Where am I?†I rub my eyes once more and my vision finally sharpens.
“I suspect he’s very far from home.†The man motions to me,apparently ignoring my queries. “If you wish to return from whence you came, find the girl and bring her to Booker DeWitt.â€
Without another word, the woman handed me a wooden box. Curiosity overpowers my irritation. I open it and scowl at the first noticeable thing: a pistol. I wasn't a fan of firearms. I turn it over in my hand and tuck it into my shirt before sifting through the rest of the contents. There wasn’t much besides the gun: a picture of the girl, some silver coins, and a large key.  I pocket them all and toss the box aside.
I stand, suddenly, intending to strangle the answers out of the pair when light fills the room, blinding me. By the time my vision returns, the two are gone – vanished without a trace. I stared at the empty space before me and rubbed my head in exasperation.
“I hate magic.â€
After a long tirade at the Twelve, I took a few minutes to test my body with a brief stretch and a dozen sword swings. I feared my muscles had atrophied after an eternity of aimless drifting, but my body said otherwise. Satisfied, I made my way out of the room and gaped at the immense, metallic contraption that greeted my sight.
“Am I in Garlemald?†I asked the air.
I steer clear of the alien machinery and explore the rest of the house. It appeared to be abandoned and I felt no shame in taking a few untouched articles of clothing. I shed my chainmail in favor of a beige get-up similar to what the man from earlier wore. I wasn’t a fan of coatees, but I couldn’t afford to draw unnecessary suspicion; being painted an Eorzean in Garlemald was the last thing I wanted. I couldn’t recall any laws restricting public arms in the Empire. Against my better judgment, I decided to chance bearing my swords.
I scrounged around for a bit of coin and something to eat before finally stepping out of the house.
A trio of men covered in blood stared wide-eyed as I emerged, but a giant red airship appeared overhead, catching everyone’s attention. The airship sported the bust shot of a dark-skinned woman who’s voice echoed through the air like a lion’s roar. I was vaguely aware that the picture was the one speaking. If I wasn't so dumbfounded by the alien display, I would have said something about giant moving pictures and dancing Mi'qote in the sky.
“Did you see this coming, old man? ‘The seed of the Prophet shall sit the throne?’ Well, the Vox'll strap her to your damn throne and burn her on it! Come, Comstock! Come and try to get her back! Come and die, Comstock!â€
The image of a girl flashed across the side of the blimp. She was chained to a stock and gagged.
“Hear tell they shoved that bitch back into her tower on Monument Island. No idea why we don’t just kill her though. Rumor is she’s all sorts of dangerous.â€
I turn my head curiously at the dark-skinned man. “Monument Island?â€
“The giant angel-shaped tower, you idiot.†He snapped. I narrowed my eyes.
“What’s an angel?†I urge again.
“Wha-? Are you making a fool out of me, c*****r?!†He moved to draw but I was already several steps ahead of him.
My sword was halfway through his neck by the time his hand reached his gun. I howl in savage delight, licking the man’s blood off my cheek as it splatters chaotically about. An infinite roundelay of memories could never match the real thing! I grabbed the headless body and hurled it at the closest man to knock him over, then drew my pistol to plug a bullet between the eyes of the third.
As the last of the trio tried to scramble to his feet, I casually approached him and delivered a brutal stomp to his spine to keep him pinned to the ground. There was an audible crunch of bone as I drove my heel into his back. I rested the tip of my sword lightly against the man’s carotid artery, drawing a thin line of blood.
“Now then,†I hiss, my voice a deadly whisper. I lean down toward him, my sword scraping deeper into his flesh. “Tell me more about this girl and Monument Island.â€
Author's Notes: Had a random urge to write this after a few days of brooding over the ending of Bioshock: Infinite. I have a story mapped out, and we'll see where it goes from here! I hope you all enjoy it and look forward to the next chapter! Please PM me any crits or comments! Thanks for reading!
The works of Final Fantasy XIV and Bioshock: Infinite all belong to their respective owners. Please note that due to its setting in the late 1800's to early 1900's, Bioshock: Infinite has many themes of racism and white supremacy. I will do my best to tone these themes down and censor them where I can.
Tyonis Magstrom always had a soft spot for girls in trouble, so when a strange duo drags him through time and space to free a young woman, he decided to offer his help. Or so he’d like to think. Honestly, they didn't give him much of a choice.Â
Warning: Contains Bioshock: Infinite spoilers.
Chapter 1: A Shift in Constants
How long have I floated idle, in this place? A year, maybe two? Or maybe I just arrived. Perhaps eternity already expired – at least my sense of time had. My thoughts wander as I drift across this endless space, cradled by eldritch powers. I recall and moments and memories, if only to not forget my own identity. I remember the feeling of blood between my fingertips as I took life after life. I reveled in that nostalgic mayhem, for it was undeniable proof of my spirit as a warrior. As a creature who could only acknowledge his existence on the battlefield, these memories preserved my mind like the magic of Althyk protected my body from the void surrounding me.
At some point, I came to realize that this realm I drifted through existed between time and space. This revelation certainly didn’t alleviate the boredom, however. And reminiscing could only last for so long. I grew bored of reliving my life – of fighting adversaries I’ve already slain.  Like a good story told too many times or a book read one-hundred times over, my memoirs began to grow stale and my mind began to stagnate.
I was aware there were others who were sent to this realm between realms. Like me, they were warriors who chose to stand against the Garlean Empire on Carteneau Flats. If only to occupy my mind with something tangible, I briefly wondered how they were coping with the eternal monotony. But at the end of my many musing, I could only acknowledge one thing: this endless boredom was slowly killing me. Eventually, my mind refused to continue the roundelay of memories, and I fell into a deep sleep akin to the abyss of death.
So when a voice called out, I ignored it.
It came again, but pitched painfully high. My mind stirred at the familiar sound. It was the bloodcurdling scream of someone experiencing immense pain and suffering. At first, I thought I was simply reliving an old memory, but the volume and weight of the screams made them feel much more tangible than the wisps of voices I grew accustomed to hearing.
“Mr. DeWitt! Booker! Booker! Don’t die Booker, please!â€
DeWitt? Booker? No, that wasn’t my name. This endless abyss had yet to strip me of my sense of self.
“Someone help me… please…†The voice began to sob.
Despite my inane desire to remain dormant, I open my eyes at the piteous whine and find myself sitting in a cushioned chair, in front of a large table full of alchemist equipment.
“Well, how unexpected.†Came a male voice.
“Unexpected, but not improbable. M-Theory or Ultimate Ensemble?†Returned a female voice.
I drag my murky vision up toward the pair. Instinctively,one hand reaches for the hilt of my sword. I relax as my fingers grip familiar steel.
“Neither, I suspect. Does he even understand us?†Asked the male.
“I’m not deaf,†I grind out, blinking hard.
“What language are we speaking, now?†He prodded.
“What else would we speak in Eorzea?†I spit back, my voice sandy and hoarse.
“Well, I imagine this experiment has become much more complicated. Shall we abandon this attempt?†The female suggested. Inwardly, I cringed.
“But a change in constants may be what the experiment needs. If it fails, there’s always next time. Perhaps he’ll row. No, it’s too late for that, I suspect. Pity.â€
“Row?†I repeat, confused. “What are you talking about?†I hissed angrily, my voice gathering strength. “Who are you two? Where am I?†I rub my eyes once more and my vision finally sharpens.
“I suspect he’s very far from home.†The man motions to me,apparently ignoring my queries. “If you wish to return from whence you came, find the girl and bring her to Booker DeWitt.â€
Without another word, the woman handed me a wooden box. Curiosity overpowers my irritation. I open it and scowl at the first noticeable thing: a pistol. I wasn't a fan of firearms. I turn it over in my hand and tuck it into my shirt before sifting through the rest of the contents. There wasn’t much besides the gun: a picture of the girl, some silver coins, and a large key.  I pocket them all and toss the box aside.
I stand, suddenly, intending to strangle the answers out of the pair when light fills the room, blinding me. By the time my vision returns, the two are gone – vanished without a trace. I stared at the empty space before me and rubbed my head in exasperation.
“I hate magic.â€
After a long tirade at the Twelve, I took a few minutes to test my body with a brief stretch and a dozen sword swings. I feared my muscles had atrophied after an eternity of aimless drifting, but my body said otherwise. Satisfied, I made my way out of the room and gaped at the immense, metallic contraption that greeted my sight.
“Am I in Garlemald?†I asked the air.
I steer clear of the alien machinery and explore the rest of the house. It appeared to be abandoned and I felt no shame in taking a few untouched articles of clothing. I shed my chainmail in favor of a beige get-up similar to what the man from earlier wore. I wasn’t a fan of coatees, but I couldn’t afford to draw unnecessary suspicion; being painted an Eorzean in Garlemald was the last thing I wanted. I couldn’t recall any laws restricting public arms in the Empire. Against my better judgment, I decided to chance bearing my swords.
I scrounged around for a bit of coin and something to eat before finally stepping out of the house.
A trio of men covered in blood stared wide-eyed as I emerged, but a giant red airship appeared overhead, catching everyone’s attention. The airship sported the bust shot of a dark-skinned woman who’s voice echoed through the air like a lion’s roar. I was vaguely aware that the picture was the one speaking. If I wasn't so dumbfounded by the alien display, I would have said something about giant moving pictures and dancing Mi'qote in the sky.
“Did you see this coming, old man? ‘The seed of the Prophet shall sit the throne?’ Well, the Vox'll strap her to your damn throne and burn her on it! Come, Comstock! Come and try to get her back! Come and die, Comstock!â€
The image of a girl flashed across the side of the blimp. She was chained to a stock and gagged.
“Hear tell they shoved that bitch back into her tower on Monument Island. No idea why we don’t just kill her though. Rumor is she’s all sorts of dangerous.â€
I turn my head curiously at the dark-skinned man. “Monument Island?â€
“The giant angel-shaped tower, you idiot.†He snapped. I narrowed my eyes.
“What’s an angel?†I urge again.
“Wha-? Are you making a fool out of me, c*****r?!†He moved to draw but I was already several steps ahead of him.
My sword was halfway through his neck by the time his hand reached his gun. I howl in savage delight, licking the man’s blood off my cheek as it splatters chaotically about. An infinite roundelay of memories could never match the real thing! I grabbed the headless body and hurled it at the closest man to knock him over, then drew my pistol to plug a bullet between the eyes of the third.
As the last of the trio tried to scramble to his feet, I casually approached him and delivered a brutal stomp to his spine to keep him pinned to the ground. There was an audible crunch of bone as I drove my heel into his back. I rested the tip of my sword lightly against the man’s carotid artery, drawing a thin line of blood.
“Now then,†I hiss, my voice a deadly whisper. I lean down toward him, my sword scraping deeper into his flesh. “Tell me more about this girl and Monument Island.â€
Author's Notes: Had a random urge to write this after a few days of brooding over the ending of Bioshock: Infinite. I have a story mapped out, and we'll see where it goes from here! I hope you all enjoy it and look forward to the next chapter! Please PM me any crits or comments! Thanks for reading!