4. Chapter 4

AN:

Mr ChubbySnorlax619: Hey man, glad you're enjoying the story, I'm a fan of your stuff too. To answer your question, yes, we do have a list of the main harem girls. Its got letters on it, and some of them even form names. Not gonna lie, I'm pretty proud of just how well-crafted a list it is, it truly is a thing of beauty.

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...Welp, enjoy the chapter everyone!

The only noise that penetrated Lincoln's ears, other than the distant sounds of battle that raged on above his head, were the sounds of his own steps as his feet trampled the marble floor. He was running faster than he ever had before, keeping his ears peeled for the cries of help of the little girl Lori had told him to find, and he grit his teeth in frustration as his search started to feel futile. The second floor of the mall was a vast labyrinth of stores and outlets and arcades, and the thin layer of choking smog and smoke wasn't making his rescue attempt any easier. He had trouble seeing through it, and every now and then he had to duck to the ground to suck up some fresh air.

Dang it, Lori, he thought on one such occasion. Couldn't you have given me more specific instructions?

The mall rumbled, and the ceiling above him cracked. Lincoln rolled out of the way just in time to watch as the spot he had occupied just a second ago was annihilated by a plasmic red beam of heat. He glanced up and watched as Whitney went flying over, followed by another shaking thud as she collided with a wall, and suddenly, a realization dawned on him:

This is real.

It was. It wasn't the game he had expected. It wasn't anything like what he had seen Lori and the rest of his sisters do on the news; there was a very real chance that he could get seriously, irreversibly hurt here. Maybe even...die. The d-word made his stomach turn, but in spite of that, he picked himself up and kept on going.

If I'm this scared, imagine how that little girl must feel.

So he kept running, knowingly breathing in more unclean air, because if Lori believed he could do it in spite of the danger, why shouldn't he believe he could?

At long last, a reprieve reached his ear: "Help me!"

He stopped in place, spinning on one foot, and turned in the vague direction of the feeble voice. "Hey!" he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Is anyone there? I'm here to help!"

"I'm here, I'm here!"

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a waving hand. He rushed over and found a little girl, young enough to be Lisa's age, sitting in a pile of concrete and steel webbing. Studying her over, Lincoln saw no signs of harm on her aside from a slight cut down the side of her face that thankfully didn't look too deep. Lincoln bent down on one knee, getting on her eye level, and tried to put on a brave and kindly smile.

"Hey," he said breathlessly, "what are you still doing here?"

The little girl looked down to the ground, as if ashamed. "Got scared," she admitted.

"Scared, huh?"

She nodded. "I lost my mommy, so I got scared."

It's a miracle you didn't get crushed, Lincoln thought, but didn't dare speak aloud. "It's okay, I'm here to get you out of here. I'll help you find your mother, okay? Come on now, let's go."

Her eyes caught sight of his cape. "Are you a Superhero?" she asked.

"Um...yeah, sure."

Her eyes widened with awe, and Lincoln, admittedly, took pleasure in someone looking at him with admiration rather than disgust. Even if that admiration did come from a lie. He reached out to her again, and she grabbed his hand, holding weakly onto it. They began walking together, and at first Lincoln took small strides for her sake, but when the mall shook again and the girl screamed with fright, Lincoln bent down again and said, "Hey, I have some younger sisters just your age, and they like it when I carry them, so...do you want me to do that? We can find your mom faster."

The girl nodded, and Lincoln picked her up and put her on his back, locking arms and legs. Once he was sure she was fastly secured, he broke into a quick sprint, dashing across the atrium with such speed that one really could have mistaken him for a superhero.

Once they were out the door, Lincoln took a great deep breath of the fresh air. The sunlight hit his skin and his body felt charged and renewed. He stopped in place to pant and rest and wipe the sweat from his brow.

"Darcy!" he heard a woman yell. He looked up and saw a middle-aged woman rushing towards him, and he set the girl on his back on the ground. "Mommy!" she squealed as she ran into her mother's arms. The woman scooped her little daughter off the ground and peppered her face with kisses, muttering prayers of thanks under her breath. Lincoln watched, smiling, and when the woman set her daughter down, she immediately rushed to seize Lincoln's hand.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you so much for saving my little Darcy," the woman rapidly thanked him. She shook his arm ferociously, and by the time she let go, Lincoln worried that it had dislocated from its socket. Still, he kept up a good face and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"It's no problem, ma'am," he said. "I just did what anyone else would do."

"Nonsense! You're a hero!" she insisted. "A brave, wonderful, handsome young hero. If there's anything I can do for you, please let me know."

"Y-you really don't have to trouble yourself..."

Their argument was interrupted by the ground shaking yet again. Everyone screamed and ducked as Lori erupted out of the roof of the mall, seemingly thrown. She quickly regained her composure, spun herself around, and flew back into the mall, whereupon another great explosion of rubble and glass burst from the building like dully-colored confetti out of a giant party cracker.

"Lori," Lincoln said under his breath.

Seconds stretched into ticking eternities as Lincoln felt like his shoes had fused with the concrete. Two rival forces were pressing on his body—the first a responsible pushing force that told him to listen to Lori and run, and the second a reckless pulling force that told him to disobey his sister and get back in there. He felt his chest squeeze as the two forces met in the middle to crush him for his inaction either way (or maybe that was just the debris in his lungs?) He watched the mall with tweaking eyes, hoping for a sign that Lori was wrapping this up.

What he got instead was Lori again being thrown out of the mall, this time into the parking lot. Her impact was so forceful that she left a wide crater.

"Lori!" he shouted. He almost ran over to her before he saw her climb out of her concrete hole. She wasn't looking too good. Her hair was all over the place, her lip was bleeding, her costume was torn and scratched in many places, and as she walked she had her hand on her ribs. Despite that, she turned to Lincoln and waved to him to leave. Before he could respond, she leaped back into the building, and the fight continued.

Lincoln felt helpless. He felt worthless.

I should be helping her...and maybe I could if I didn't have such a stupid Archetype. If Lynn was here, she could help Lori. So would Luan and Luna...maybe even Lucy! Just not me…

His hands balled into shaking fists from the anger, but the anger turned to surprise when he felt someone touching his quaking fist. He looked down and saw Darcy, looking up at him.

"You should help her," she said. "That's what Superheroes do, right?"

"I...I..."

Her eyes were wide with esteem, and it was in them that he found his answer.

"Yes." He looked to the mall, his eyes squinting with determination. "It is what heroes do."

"Why are you doing this?!" Lori roared as another salvo of laser beams burst from her retinas. One hit Whitney square in the chest, and the Supervillain was knocked back a few meters. She quickly recovered, using her powers to envelop herself in a purple aura that she used to make herself float. She soared above Lori's head and opened her palms. An array of psionic blasts issued forth and battered her arch-nemesis.

"You want to know why?" Whitney pointed down the walkway, towards the ruined, smoky remains of the clothing outlet their battle had started in. "There was a sale today. Just for today, everything was half-off. HALF! I had my eyes on a purse that was too expensive—even for someone as wealthy as me—and I had waited weeks for this sale. And by the time I arrived, ready to spend...IT WAS GONE! IT WAS MY PURSE, AND IT WAS GONE!"

"And that's why you went on a rampage?!" Lori shouted at her. "That's why you put hundreds of lives in danger?! You could've killed someone!"

Whitney regarded her opponent coldly.

"Who cares?" she said.

Lori wasn't in good shape. Her vision was blurry from the overuse of her laser vision, her skin was spotted with dark bruises, and her muscles were screaming for rest. But those two words—those two words spoken with complete callousness—sparked a fire in Lori's heart that quickly became a blazing inferno of fury. With a primal battle-cry, she charged towards Whitney, but Whitney was expecting that, so she quickly outmaneuvered Lori by twisting past her, and had just enough time to jab her at the base of her spine. Lori fell to the ground, and all around her, the sound of Whitney's obnoxious, aristocratic laugh bounced off the empty walls.

It was then that a horrifying thought dawned on the caped heroine: maybe she couldn't beat Whitney this time.

Most people have an assumption about the quasi-symbiotic relationship between Superhero and Supervillain Archetypes: the villain attacks, the hero defends, and the hero comes out victorious. That's how it always plays out...except when it does. Archetypes don't invalidate free will and consequence, so if a Supervillain was clever or strong or lucky enough, they could defeat their Superhero. And as Whitney descended to the ground and began closing in on Lori, her boots created suspenseful footsteps that boomed in Lori's ears, the young Loud woman began to fear that this was one of those times.

Lori turned and sucked in air, preparing her last resort of freezing cold breath, but Whitney was prepared. With a twist of her hand, a hefty brick fell on Lori's stomach and knocked the breath out of her. Lori rolled over in pain, and Whitney swooped down to grab Lori by the collar and hold her in the air. She smiled wide; it looked shark-like to Lori.

"You know, you really got me to work up a sweat," Whitney said. "That would be a compliment if I liked sweating. Now my perfect and beautiful costume is all grimy and gross, and I have to get it cleaned by that smelly wog at the dry-cleaners. And I didn't even get my purse. Oh poo, I'd say it almost wasn't worth it to get out of bed...if it wasn't for the fact that I'm finally going to be rid of Lori Loud once and for all."

"Your...your hand is touching my boobs..."

"That's your fault for having them exposing like that. But surely you have some better last words than that?"

"You're inhuman," Lori snarled.

Whitney could only grin. "You're right. I'm not human. I'm rich, which is just so much better..."

Lori closed her eyes, awaiting the worse. Her life quickly flashed before her eyes, ended on a still image of Lincoln smiling as she flew him over the city…

I'm sorry, little bro, she thought. At least I kept you saf-

"Lori!"

Lori's eyes shot up; the cry she heard was too loud and vivid to be a hallucination. Both her and Whitney's heads turned to the left as they saw Lori's younger brother rushing towards them. "Lincoln, no!" she cried, but it was too late; Whitney's sights were securely fixed on him. Sadism flashed in her cerulean pupils as she tossed Lori at the ground in front of him like she were a limp rag doll.

"You're just in time...Lincoln, was it?" she said, her voice as smooth as spider's silk. "Just in time to see your big, strong sister reduced to a scantily-clad puddle of mush."

Lincoln glowered at the Supervillain, but he was forced to look away when Lori grabbed his collar and roughly tugged on it, forcing him to look down at her. "Lincoln, I told you to run," she said. "Why did you come back, you little idiot?"

"I-I couldn't just leave you..."

"Idiot. Fucking idiot," she grumbled.

"Now, now, Lori, mind your language," Whitney said. "I think it's sweet that your brother wanted to make sure you're okay. Why don't you two share some words of goodbye while I charge up my final attack, hmm?"

If Lori had one regret, it would be that Whitney could hum smugly like that because of her own weakness. But she had bigger concerns, as she grabbed onto Lincoln's face. "Lincoln, listen to me." Her voice was cracking with desperation. "Just go. Save yourself."

"But Lori, she's going to kill you!"

"She's just saying that, she doesn't actually mean it." That was a half-lie on Lori's part. While she doubted Whitney would actually kill her, she was also well aware that a lifetime of economic privilege and nigh-unrivaled superhuman abilities had skewed Whitney's perception of the value of human life. But Lori was willing to take that chance with herself; she was not willing to do so with anyone else, especially not one of her siblings. She put every ounce of love she had for Lincoln into her final plea to him: "Just go."

For a moment, he seemed to consider it.

But then the stubborn little idiot grabbed her hand.

"I'm not leaving you."

Lori's cheeks burst into redness like the red petals of a rose bursting from the bud. She felt herself almost act on something emotional, something instinctual when just at that moment, something incredible happened.

Their eyes locked, and Lori felt all her strength instantly return to her.

This wasn't a burst of motivation or confidence—she could feel her strength and stamina restored to her. Her muscles flexed powerfully, and her eyes began to glow as they radiated heat once again. A moment ago, she felt like a weakly woman, but now she was a nebula personified, the energy and force of millions of stars forming and exploding within her cells.

What the...what's happening to me?

She didn't question it. She rose from the ground and flew straight to the ceiling, so quickly she didn't even leave an afterimage. Lincoln looked up at his flying sister with a great smile, while Whitney's smug grin crashed. "What?!" she screeched in the voice of a banshee. "How are you doing that?"

Lori didn't know. She opened and closed her hand with surprise like it was the first time she had ever used her fingers in her life. But then she grinned and closed her hand into a sturdy fist. "Guess I'm just feeling...super," she said to her adversary, who groaned and growled.

Whitney's eyes fell on Lincoln. "You!" she shouted, pointed a sharp finger at him. "You did this, didn't you? You're a Healer, aren't you?"

"No. I don't know if I-"

Whitney screamed with rage before he could finish. All the power she had been charging for a final blow on Lori she instead used to propel herself towards Lincoln, ready to tear him to shreds. Lincoln saw her coming and lifted his arms in meek defense of himself...only for Lori to fly in between the two of them.

Within the slow nanoseconds, Whitney watched Lori slowly pull her fist back. Her lips moved, forming only one syllable:

"No."

Lori's fist flew into Whitney's face, and when it made contact, Whitney's nervous system completely shut down as her brain registered the pain of a thousand trucks slamming into her face. Then there was a burst of pressurized air, and Whitney went flying through the mall. She broke through ten walls before she finally stopped. She lay on the ground, too deeply in pain to even dare move. She floated in and out of consciousness, lights and colors dancing perversely before her eyes...until they closed, and she was officially out.

Lori's fist was steaming as she stood there, panting, still posing in defense of her brother. It wasn't until he timidly said, "L-Lori?" that she allowed herself to move. She looked back at him, and he looked at her with worry. "Is she...did you kill her?"

"Lincoln...if that was anyone else, I wouldn't have punched that hard," she answered. "But Whitney is strong. Strong enough to handle that. She'll be in a lot of pain for a few days, but she'll survive. Probably without any permanent damage."

"Probably?"

Lori didn't answer him. She stared at her fist, still steaming, and wondered…

By the time the police arrived, Whitney had regained consciousness, though she was in a strange place where she was wavering between not feeling and feeling too sensitive to all the stimuli she took in. She went quietly, not willing to risk another beatdown. Lori couldn't help but feel slightly guilty, but it was better than the alternative. Besides, her parents were probably going to get her out of too much serious legal trouble, and she would be back to her normal, villainous self in no time.

"Alright, Lincoln, ready to go home?" she asked.

"Sure," he said, nodding. "Do you want me to get us a taxi?"

Lori shook her head. Surprisingly, she didn't feel fatigued at all. Usually, a big fight against someone as strong as Whitney would've had her begging for someone to carry her, but that great rush of energy from earlier still hadn't subsided. "I'm good," she answered. "I can fly us home. Come on, grab my hand."

Lincoln looked baffled. "Grab your hand? I thought you had to carry me while you fly."

The blonde heroine smiled and shook her head. "After what you did today, it wouldn't be right for me to carry you around like a bride," she said dismissively, though she did notice how her heart jumped at the word 'bride'. "And I want to try something, so come on."

Hesitantly, Lincoln grabbed her hand. Their fingers interlocked, and their palms rubbed together.

"Hold on tight," Lori said.

Before he could ask what she meant by that, Lincoln felt himself flying off the ground as Lori raised her arm and soared into the sky. As she reached the clouds, she straightened herself (and Lincoln by proxy). The boy was curled up in a frightened little ball, so he hung onto Lori's limp arm for dear life. Lori laughed and said, "Lincoln, spread yourself out. Spread your arms and legs out."

He whimpered but ultimately obliged her. He let his legs pop out, followed by his arms. Lori lifted him to her level, and when Lincoln finally had the courage to open his eyes, he realized that holy God in heaven, I feel like I'm flying!

He looked to Lori with surprise, and the young woman laughed. "Feels good, right?" she asked.

"Yeah! It feels amazing!"

"I knew you'd love it," she sighed, her eyes half-lidded and her smile full of life.

They didn't fly home right away. Instead, they opted for the scenic route. Together, they were mesmerized by the wide blue lakes, the lush green forests, the flat plains populated by cattle and barns. All while holding onto each other, a true bond of love and loyalty.

They had so much fun that by the time they returned home in the evening, they had flown over five different states.

Lisa flipped through the inky papers on her clipboard with diligent eyes. "Interesting results," she murmured to herself. She turned back to her older sibling units and said, "Okay, you two may unplug yourselves now."

Lincoln and Lori sighed with relief as they started plucking the wires and suction cups from their faces and bodies. When the two of them returned home, they were crowded by their family with questions about whether they were okay and what took them so long to get home and a specific Lori, what happened to your clothes? from their mother. Once the crowd of parents and sisters had dispersed, Lisa had approached them and politely requested that she perform a few tests. Lori and Lincoln agreed, and here they were now, unplugging themselves from one of Lisa's strange machines.

"Lisa, what is this even about?" Lori asked.

"It's about Lincoln's Archetype, of course. I'm studying both of your energy signatures to get an idea..."

"Idea of what?"

"Nothing, so far," Lisa said exasperatedly. "Lincoln, you may leave. Lori, I'd like to keep you for a little longer."

The two looked at each other unsurely. After a little cough, Lincoln stood up and started for the door. He turned around and looked at his eldest sister. "I had a lot of fun today," he said, "despite the, you know, part where a Supervillain tried to kill us. But seriously...thanks, Lori."

Lori beamed warmly as his brother walked out of the room and turned towards his. Her face felt almost as warm as her heart. When she realized Lisa was staring at her, she tried to shake it off and hope the young genius hadn't noticed. "So, uh, Lis, what did you need me here for?" she asked.

"I lied," Lisa said.

"About what?"

"About not having an idea about Lincoln's ridiculously-named Harem King Archetype. Thanks to these results, I've now formed a few hypotheses. I'll need more results to be certain, but for now, this is a good foundation."

"Hypotheses like...?"

"Like who constitutes as a member of Lincoln's so-called harem. You, Lori, are the first person I can confirm as such," Lisa said bluntly.

Lori shrieked; her entire body turned red. "What?! No, that's ridiculous! And gross! I'm not-"

"Calm down, calm down!" Lisa shouted over her hysterical sister. Their combined yelling served only to frighten Lily, who quickly began to cry. There was a knock at the door, and Lynn poked her head inside.

"Everything cool in here?"

Lori stopped shouting, and Lisa took a breath to simmer herself down. "Everything should be cooler now that Lori has stopped her screeching," she said, earning a dirty look from her blonde older sister. "If you don't mind, Lynn, can you please take Lily off our hands? We're a bit busy here."

"Aww, poor Lily. Why are you crying?" Lynn cooed as she lifted the screaming baby from her crib. "Come on, let your favorite big sis feed you some of that mushy apricot stuff that you supposedly like. And then we can get back to working on your badminton skills!"

After she closed the door behind her, Lori asked, "How does a baby even play badminton?"

"Surprisingly well," Lisa said admiringly. "But anyway, to return to our original topic..."

"Oh right...how could you call me one of Lincoln's harem girls?!" Lori shouted, in a quieter voice this time. "It's disgusting, it's wrong, it's not who I am. I am not in love with my brother. R-really. I'm not."

"I never insinuated that you were," said Lisa.

"But you said-"

"I said that you were very likely a member of Lincoln's harem, but that may not mean what you think it means."

"I...don't follow."

Lisa sighed and took off her glasses to rub their lenses clean. "I'll try to give you the short version," she said as she put her glasses back on. "One major aspect of my research is not only delving into the science of Lincoln's Archetype, but also the linguistics of it. Harem King. That's two words, both with different origins. I believe that by understanding the exacts of what is meant by this name, I can gain key insights into Lincoln's Archetype. Are you following so far?"

"Yes, yes...I think so."

"Then I'll continue. The word harem originates in the Middle East, as does the meaning of it. While the concept meant different things for the different peoples, we'll go straight to Arabia. To them, a harem signified female family members. Wives, daughters sisters, the like. It was a platonic, familial term, rather than romantic or sexual."

"Okay. So it's not a weird thing?"

"Well...the term made its way to the Ottoman Empire, and from there it made its way into the rest of Europe. Thanks to the Orientalist art and literature that was popular from the 1600s up to the 1800s, the term took on a different connotation. The term took on a more sexual and exotic meaning, where it was used to refer to romantic partners exclusively. This definition was then codified as it became a major part of Japanese popular culture, and from there it took root in the minds of many nerds and otaku and perverts all around the globe."

"Interesting story, but what does that have to do with me?"

"It means that I'm working to discover which of the two definitions apply here: the platonic term, or the romantic term. But thanks to you, I've been able to crack the case!" Lisa happily exclaimed. "Clearly we're working with the original definition, which is purely familial. How else could you of all people be in Lincoln's harem otherwise? The only other way would be if you were in love with him...which you aren't, right?" She cast a suspicious sideways glance at Lori.

"O-of course not!"

"Just making sure. I'll need to double-check, in any case, but for now, this is my working conclusion."

"How did you even come to this conclusion anyway?"

"Oh, right, that brings me to my second big point as it relates to you." Lisa tore out a sheet of paper from her clipboard and put it in Lori's hands. She looked at the page; it was a graph made of a red line, with spikes periodically bumping from it.

"This shows me the use of your power," said Lisa. She put her finger on the line and traced it all the way until she reached the biggest spike of them all, one that completely dwarfed the others. "This is when you made the most use of your power, and sister, this is more power than I've seen from you...well, ever. This leads me to conclude that Lincoln's Archetype may be one of a supporting nature."

"Supporting nature?"

"Not every Archetype is active like yours. Some take a supporting role. For example, the rare Wingman role exists solely to be used by others in their romantic endeavors. The Wingmen themselves don't benefit from their own abilities outside of the fleeting joy that comes from 'being a bro and helping a dude out.'"

Lisa could see that Lori's attention was slipping, so she decided to speed things up. "In conclusion, being around Lincoln makes you strong, because you are a member of his harem, but that's fine because it doesn't mean anything gross unless you're lying to me about any secret feelings. Understood? Excellent. Good night."

She pushed Lori out the door and closed it behind her.

"Um, yeah, good night," Lori said absentmindedly. She stood there for a moment, swaying, before shrugging and going to the bathroom. As she brushed her teeth, she revised over everything Lisa had said to her. Supposedly, she was now one of Lincoln's harem girls, and that was going to make her stronger as long as Lincoln was around. But Lori knew it was more than that. It wasn't just Lincoln being around, it was him touching her that made her stronger. The way he touched her, the way he made her feel…

She shivered, and in her distraction accidentally snapped the handle of her toothbrush.

When she went back into her room, she found Leni humming gently to herself as she leafed through a magazine's large and glossy pages, depicting fashionable tan teens in outfits that were far too overdone for Lori's tastes.

"Hey, Leni...do you mind if you read that downstairs? I literally just want to crash in bed."

Her younger sister nodded, and got up, and left the room. Lori took off her clothes until she was left in nothing but a lacy, white pair of panties. A draft of cold air swirled around the pink nipples on her round boobs, hardening them. Lori closed the lights and jumped into bed, sighing as she stretched herself on the mattress. She thought she would go to sleep instantly, but too much was swirling in her mind to allow that. Her brain consumed and interpreted all the raw data her senses had gathered for it during the day, and she came up with one final conclusion.

Lisa's wrong. Harem King doesn't refer to the old definition, it refers to the new one. And I know this because...because…

"...because I'm in love with my brother Lincoln," Lori murmured.

With her admission of her taboo love now passed from her lips, Lori turned on her side, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.