44. Chapter 44

Yo, yo, yo, wassup, my readers. Hero here with another entry of this marvelous Lynncoln story —that had so far featured other ships rather than the main one, for some reason. But don't worry, I know Lynncoln is your favorite, and I'm here to make everything right in the world again.

In all seriousness, I'm so personally invested in the ship that it's hard at times to make sure I don't overdo it. At least from Lincoln's POV. Lynn is madly in love with him. Still, even if you guys don't like Lynn or Lynncoln, I'll be trying my best to sell their relationship as best as I can to make you all root for them in this particular story. And if you guys don't mind some nice Lynncoln fluff (with lots of angst to come), then let me know so I have receipts to show Sege that it's ok for me to go ballistic on it.

To answer some reviews:

LegendDanger45: Given your avatar, I'm confident you're going to like this arc lol Unless I do a terrible job at it. Then sorry, you're gonna hate it.

NoSoul01: Who?

RCJ02: Muh man. Then you're gonna like this arc lol

JRC1700: Not just because he's "depressed". It's because he didn't take care of his soul. He allowed his fears to control him, he never cultivated any meaningful relationships, and he never sought responsibility or meaning in his life. He was merely existing, not living to his full potential. He was basically on the lowest tier of Charles de Bovelles' pyramid of virtue.

youhateme: As they say in Toy Story 2: you can't rush art. Also, the seven deadly sins don't have a place in this story, to be honest, I don't see how we could work them into this narrative.

A meeting occurs! Lynn's Significant Other is exposed!

"Alright," Lincoln said, gulping down and doing one last quick visual survey of everyone in the room, "Luna and Sam are late. We've been waiting for fifteen minutes, so, uh, as President of the Loud Club, I… I believe we're ready to officially begin a new meeting. So, you know, if no one has any questions—"

A hand shot up in the air so fast it created an air current that unbalanced Lincoln and his chair, almost tumbling him back. After waving his arms and legs to fight the sudden feeling of zero gravity, he grounded himself and sighed. He addressed the raised hand.

"Yes, Lynn?"

With squinted eyes and her lips pressed into a thin line, she looked ready to clock the first person to annoy her.

"Why are they here?" She proceeded to ask, shooting the deadliest of glares at the two girls on her left.

After filing the necessary forms, Lincoln had managed to get certain supplies for their Loud Club. A proper banner for their assigned classroom, with a personalized design he'd come up with. A wardrobe for supplies and materials that he hadn't bought yet —he didn't even know what they could possibly need— and was instead filled with a few board games and his D&D supplies. He hoped that one day he would convince his sisters to give it a shot. A one-shot, at the very least. He smiled at his mental pun.

Most importantly, however, he'd gotten the Archetype Academy to provide one big round table with twelve chairs. It was nothing more than a fantasy, but he liked the idea of the Loud Club being able to host him and all ten of his sisters.

Plus Sam.

He knew it would probably never happen. Lori and Leni had graduated already, Luna and Sam were almost always on tour, and by the time Lily could get into the Academy he'd be long gone. Still, it only made sense to him to prepare the Loud Club to host the core of the Loud family. And always on a round table, so no one felt left behind.

For the past few meetings, the table had proven to be quite useful. It allowed him to stare at Luna, Sam, Luan, and Lynn's faces at the same time —a sublime view if he'd ever seen one—, it provided ample space for everyone to have their own little corner with their personal items —lockers, he wrote down, he needed to ask for lockers—, and its substantial diameter managed to keep Sam and Lynn far away from each other to prevent too much banter. For the most part.

Currently, only two of his sisters flanked him at the table. Luan on his right, Lynn on his left. They were not the only people at the table, however, which led him back to Lynn's question. Sitting across him and his sisters, two chairs were occupied by the Dark Lord and Chosen Hero of his classroom: Stella and Girl Jordan.

"Well", he began, "they followed me here after our last class, and they said they wanted to join us today."

"And you let them?"

"I said I'd have to ask you and Luan for permission."

Luan, not as visibly upset as Lynn but still eyeing them suspiciously, asked "Why would you want to join the Loud Club anyway? You're not Louds."

Stella stood up first, a radiant smile on her face. "I want to be as close to you and Lincoln as possible, of course!"

Luan and Lincoln shared a confused look. Lynn clenched her fist so hard against the table her nails carved four one-inch-deep gashes on the wood. "Explain yourself," she said, "before I kick you out of this room myself," she added in her mind.

"You two defeated Diablo! The Lord of Destruction! Rightful Ruler of Hell!" She said, her devil tail wagging behind her and her iron gauntlets pressed together over her heart. "The strongest of the Prime Evils, and you two managed to thwart his plans, banishing him from this realm! As a Dark Lord, Diablo is not only my boss, he's also my biggest inspiration when it comes to world domination plans."

"Uh… sorry?" Lincoln offered, not knowing how to react to her words.

"Sorry? You saved me an insurrection!" She beamed. "Now I won't have to plan a coup to overthrow the most legendary shepherd of the Fallen Ones! You two pushed me closer to achieving my goal of bringing down the Apocalypse on Earth! I need to know how you did it, you're my heroes!"

She pushed her chair back and bowed at the Exorcist and the Harem King.

"I hereby pledge myself as your obedient servant! Your wishes are my command! I solemnly swear to follow your instructions, up until the point where I inevitably betray you to take my place on the Throne of Despair."

Lincoln looked at Luan. She shrugged. He cleared his throat.

"You, uh, you don't have to be our servant or anything. Stella, you're my friend."

The half-demon girl gasped and covered her mouth with her hands, fresh tears running down her cheeks.

"F-Friend?" She repeated while sobbing.

"Of course. You're one of the few people who don't hate me in this school," he casually mentioned with a grin, ignoring the worried looks his sisters exchanged. "I would love to have you around as a… an honorary member of the Loud Club? Maybe?"

He turned to look at Luan. Luan sighed and nodded. He then turned to Lynn, who waited several seconds before grunting and mumbling something that seemed close enough to an agreement. With that settled, Lincoln looked at Jordan, who laid back on her chair, one elbow resting on the top rail. Her smug smile made it seem like she was holding back on resting a foot on the table merely out of respect.

"What about you? Why do you want to join the Loud Club?"

"Well," she began, leaning forward and placing both hands on the table, "for one, I need to keep tabs on Stella. We're supposed to fight to the death one day, so the more I know about her the better. But also, being completely honest, there's some really nice eye candy in this club that I would be a fool to miss out on."

Lynn and Luan fumed at the way she scanned Lincoln's body with her eyes, from top to bottom. They would have voted her out of the club and challenged her to a knife-edge death match right then and there if not for Jordan then looking at Lynn with the same smug smile, openly checking her out just as she'd done with Lincoln. The martial artist recoiled in her seat, feeling suddenly embarrassed and flattered, while Luan immediately decided to keep Jordan around if nothing else for the possibility of getting Lynn flustered more often.

Lincoln, who didn't know what eye candy meant, pretended that he did by nodding. "Alright. I mean, sounds good enough for me. What do you guys think?"

"Oh, definitely in," Luan said.

Lynn gave an absent-minded nod, looking down at her top for some reason.

"Cool. That settles it. You two are now honorary members of the Loud Club, congratulations."

"That's great! I've never been a part of a group!" Stella celebrated. "What do we do now? Do we scheme to replace the Academy's authorities? Do we make plans to get revenge on those that have wronged us? Oh! Let's start with Chandler!"

Lynn let out a surprisingly accurate imitation of a buzzer. "We don't do that lame stuff here. This club is for us Louds to catch up with each other. And today, Lincoln and I have a lot to figure out. So you can stay and listen, but we've got work to do."

"What kind of work?" Jordan asked, nonchalantly looking at her nails.

"We're going to get him to fully control his Archetype."

She stood up and invited Lincoln and Luan to do the same. While the new members remained in their place, Lynn got her siblings to face each other at arm's length.

"Alright, so this is what we know: the Har— Your Archetype," Lynn backtracked, "works by somehow manipulating someone else's aura, their soul, the place our Archetypes are stored. You're able to combine their auras with yours, which lets you temporarily turn into their Archetypes in what we call a Genre Shift. It can also work the other way around, where you share your aura with the other person, but that just boosts their power. We know it doesn't work with everyone, and it can even create a false Genre Shift if you don't really understand what the Archetype is like. Our leading theory is that to get it right, you need to have a strong… emotional connection with the other person. Did I miss anything?"

"I think that's the gist of it."

"So his Archetype can basically copy someone else's or boost the other person?" Jordan asked, earning a nod from Lincoln. "That's strong. Like, crazy strong. Just the boosting would make for incredible combat support. Being able to duplicate a powerful Archetype is bonkers."

Lincoln shook his head. "But it's useless if I can't use it at will."

"Luckily, you have me," Lynn said, winking and giving him a soft punch in the shoulder. She looked at Stella and Jordan. "I can see auras, and also manipulate mine. I'll be training Lincoln, teaching him how to feel and control his aura."

"That's amazing," Stella said with sparkly eyes.

"I know. I'm the best."

Luan rolled her eyes. "What do you need me for?"

"I've never been around during the moment of a Genre Shift," Lynn explained. "I wanna see it for myself, in real-time. I need to know what I'm working with. Do you think you can do it, Stinkoln?"

"Pfft. Stinkoln," Stella said, elbowing Jordan.

Lincoln rubbed the back of his neck. "I… I can try."

"Hey, it's okay," Lynn told him, smiling and putting an arm on his shoulder. "No pressure. Even if it's a failed Genre Shift, we might learn something from it. Just do your best, alright?"

There it was. The side of Lynn most people never got to see, a side almost exclusively reserved for her family, with Lincoln and Lucy being on the receiving end of it most of the time. A kind of smile and support that let them know she fully believed in them. That no matter how teasing, arrogant and competitive she normally was, right then she only wanted to give them her support. No gloating, no making fun of anyone.

That smile accompanied Lynn in most of Lincoln's happiest memories with her. When she taught him how to ride a bike without training wheels. When she comforted him at night after a bad dream. When she gave him a pep talk before his magic show in elementary school.

Right then, with her support, he knew he wouldn't fail.

"Alright, let's do it."

He stared at Luan and tried his best not to feel overwhelmed by her eyes. Those kind, sparkling eyes seemed to drag him with the gravitational pull of Jupiter. He tried his best to focus… on what, exactly? The last time he'd tried to sense her aura, he'd turned into a fake Exorcist. He didn't understand how it all worked yet, but he remembered how it felt to achieve a proper Genre Shift with her.

He remembered the warmth of her touch, the serenity of her smile. And then, when he healed her, how their hearts seemed to beat in sync, how their thoughts for each other were filled with love, and how he felt closer to her than ever before. He dwelled on those memories, on those feelings, and let them surge through his body, accepting them.

Standing aside, Lynn sharpened her senses and cleared her mind to see a physical manifestation of her siblings' auras. To her, it looked like their bodies glowed with a soft, ever-moving light. It enveloped them as it enveloped every person. But even though everyone had them, there were no two auras that looked the same. Luan's had always been unpredictable, with small twists and turns, tendrils coming out of nowhere, whirlpools that appeared and disappeared when you least expected them to. For someone that could physically feel them like Lynn, it felt slightly electrifying to the touch, like a joy buzzer. Lincoln's, on the other hand, had always been tame, muted, and soft as a feather's touch. Through the years, it had become Lynn's favorite pillow. Just being around Lincoln allowed her to feel his aura and immediately relax, soothing her explosive personality. Cuddling with Lincoln, however brief those encounters had to be for her to keep up her non-mushy persona, competed with working out as Lynn's favorite activity.

In the past few months, ever since he'd gotten into the Archetype Academy, Lincoln's aura had changed. It grew, not as dull as before, but like a young tree trying to expand its branches. It happened to everyone during puberty, so she hadn't given it much thought. Through the years she'd seen her older sisters' and her own aura growing stronger. Lincoln seemed to be going through the same process, though luckily it remained as warm and soft as always.

As Lynn saw him focus, she noticed the way his aura moved. It began to expand, to glow brighter. And then, as his smile grew, small, nebulous tendrils extended towards Luan. Lynn raised an eyebrow.

"What the heck is up with that?" She thought.

His aura finally touched Luan, creating a bridge between them. The point where it touched Luan's aura left no evidence of an intrusion. Like two oil paints mixing, it looked like they became one. And then, soon enough, the color of Luan's aura began flowing through that connection into Lincoln, adding yellow lines and touches to his warm orange.

Just one other person in the room sensed it. Lincoln felt the surge of energy, the sudden understanding of what he needed to do. With a rush of confidence and the not-at-all small desire to show off, he broadened his shoulders and put on a smug smile.

"Genre shift," he said out loud.

Not unlike Leni during her magical girl transformation sequence, his whole body shone like a star. His clothes twirled and changed, a sword appeared sheathed at his waist, and when the light dulled seconds later, Lincoln stood in the room with his Exorcist outfit.

Luan smiled kindly and nodded at him. Stella stood up, her mouth ajar and her tail forming a heart. Jordan goggled at Lincoln, her previous air of smugness now replaced with surprise.

Lynn felt an initial surge of pride, tainted with a faint aching deep in her heart that she tried her best to ignore.

"Sweet bloody axes of Khorne," Stella said. "You did it!"

"How do we know if it's not a failed Genre Shift?" Jordan asked.

"Oh! Oh! Do me!" Stella offered, raising her hand.

"W-What?"

"Exorcise me! Send me to the depths of Hell! Tear my horns off and impale me with your mighty sword!"

"It's not a failed Genre Shift," Lynn evaluated, crossing her arms over her chest. "I can see it. It worked."

She'd seen him shortly after the battle against Diablo had ended. His aura still had huge portions of Luan's mixed with his own. She had despaired, to put it bluntly. She'd been working for years to try to build a closer relationship with Lincoln. To become his favorite sister. To make him realize just how much she loved him, and how she yearned to spend the rest of her life with him by her side. She thought she'd been doing a dang fine job.

Only to see that he had shared auras with all his older sisters in a way she never knew was possible. Now she ran an uphill battle. She needed more than ever to do her best and teach him everything she could and get him to control his Archetype. Otherwise, if for some forsaken reason she failed and they couldn't Genre Shift, she knew she would lose him. And that was the one loss she'd never allow to happen. She'd find the way to fix everything, to get him to love her the way she loved him.

"Good job, Linc," she said, trying to push past her anxiety.

He smiled. With a triumphal look, he examined his body.

"I did it… I did it!" He thought, looking at his garments and the sword at his waist. He knew Lynn was right. If Diablo appeared right in front of him, he'd be able to fight. It was a successful Genre Shift.

He hadn't failed. He feared failing and looking like an idiot in front of everyone, but it had been a total win for him. Now here he stood, turned into a full-on Exorcist, ready to kick ass.

His eyes darted back to Lynn. He wanted— No, needed to know if he'd made her proud. Their training would begin that same day, it may have even begun right then with that test. And for once he didn't feel like a complete failure. He hoped to prove to her that he could do it, that he wouldn't be a burden.

In her face, he didn't see what he expected. Her eyes were scanning his whole body, and she bit her lower lip deep in concentration. From what he could tell, she looked conflicted.

"She knows," he thought, a cold shiver running down his spine. "She can read auras… She must have felt the same thing I did, how I felt about Luan and how happy it made me… Oh, no, she probably thinks I'm a weirdo."

Deep in her thoughts, Lynn suddenly noticed the way Lincoln's aura began to flicker. Like a candle struggling to stay lit, it shook and dimmed. The bridge, the retroactive feedback between Lincoln and Luan's auras, got thinner. Most of each other's auras tried to get back to their original user until the connection was lost. Lincoln glowed before turning to his regular self, though traces of Luan's aura remained in him for Lynn to see.

Everyone stared confused at Lincoln, Lynn in particular.

"What happened?" Luan asked.

"I… I lost it," he responded, seemingly turning away from her.

In reality, he turned his back to Lynn, whom he didn't want to look at for the time being. His true intentions were lost to everyone sans Jordan, who stared intently at the way both Lincoln and Lynn acted.

"Huh. Interesting," she thought, deciding to keep her ideas for herself.

"It's okay," Luan assured him, taking a step closer to place her hand on his back. "It was a real Genre Shift. That's good, right?"

Lynn shook her head, trying to push her stupid insecurities aside to focus on helping Lincoln.

"Yeah, bro! That's a huge step forward! Now we know you can do it for real if you want to. We'll just need to work on keeping it up longer next time."

"This was your first time activating your Archetype like that?" Jordan asked.

"Well, the first time I've done it consciously and that it worked."

"I see. Don't worry, most people can't hold it for too long during their first times."

"Yeah, it can be overwhelming at first," Lynn added. "Don't worry, we'll keep working on it, making you last longer until you can perform at your fullest."

"How long until you can do it again?" Stella asked, raising her hand in the air. "I wanna do it with you!"

Luan snickered, covering her mouth to stifle it. "God, I wish I had been recording this."

Just then they heard a thud on the door, some groans of pain, and a fair share of bickering. Someone —or something— on the other side decided to walk into the classroom. Lincoln took a step back, almost bumping into Lynn, his eyes locked on the monstrosity that had just entered their designated space for club activities. The colossal figure seemed to be at least eight feet tall, hitting its head with the top of the door frame even though it crouched. A huge pink scarf wrapped itself around the head, making him look like the most fashionable mummy ever. A pair of sunglasses covered its eyes, and a huge trench coat covered most of its body. Its torso, impossibly large compared to the small legs and arms, began wobbling and moving in strange ways. The figure tried to keep its balance but soon tumbled forward onto the table, dissecting in two with the impact.

"God damn it, Sam!" The legs complained, crawling back. "I told you to stop moving so much!"

"I couldn't even breathe with that ding dang scarf over my nose!"

"YOU put the scarf on!"

"Mistakes were made, Luna!"

Once they got rid of the trench coat, The Sirens themselves were revealed to the world.

Or at least to the five people in that room.

"Sorry we're late, luv," Luna told Lincoln, getting up and pulling Sam out of the table, before dropping her unceremoniously onto the ground.

"What—?" He began, looking at the trench coat before shaking his head. "Nevermind, I'll just write it off as another Sam thing."

"I'm glad you asked!" The blonde girl said, standing up with a smile on her face. "Everywhere we go, students from all years try to approach us to ask for a selfie, or an autograph, or an autographed selfie. So we needed to get rid of our fans and get attention away from us before getting to the meeting."

"By becoming an eight feet tall trench coat monster?" Lynn asked, deadpan.

"When was the last time you asked for an autograph from an eight feet tall trench coat person, huh?"

Everyone rolled their eyes.

"Anywho," Luna said, sitting down next to Stella, who had chosen that of all days to wear a Sirens t-shirt under her goat fur cape and dark, tattered robes. Luna winked and Stella passed out, hitting her head against the edge of the table. "What did we miss? Who are these girls?"

Lincoln summarized the past twenty minutes.

"I want you to do it with Luna and me!" Sam suddenly said, standing up with a determined look on her face.

"You want me to Genre Shift with you two?"

"Oh, that too."

"That's enough Genre Shifting for now," Lynn said, stepping forward and planting her palms on the table. "I just wanted to see it for myself. We don't want to exhaust Lincoln with dumb games. After this meeting, he'll be coming with me to start his training."

"Do you really think you can help him control his Genre Shifts?" Luan asked.

"I'm sure I can," she said without missing a beat. "I've been doing aura training every day for as long as I can remember. If there's anyone that can help him with this, it's gotta be me."

Lynn knew she was right. It also meant the responsibility rested on her shoulders solely. Lincoln trusted her and had put his faith in her. She'd never really taken the role of a teacher before, but what better opportunity than spending time with her favorite person in the world? Any failure would be entirely on her.

Lincoln knew she was right. Lisa herself had said that there would be no better opportunity than having Lynn teach him how to work with auras to improve his control over his Archetype. He had the best teacher in the world, someone who'd never failed at anything in her life; any failure would be entirely on him.

"What kind of training is that? Can anyone do it?" Jordan asked, helping Stella sit up as she recovered consciousness.

"Well, not everyone can work with auras," Lynn admitted, "but his Archetype already involves them, so I'm sure there's something we can do. And he also wants some good old-fashioned physical training to get stronger."

The six girls in the room stopped for a second, their minds conjuring an image of a sweaty Lincoln dropping a cowbell, wiping off the sweat on his forehead with the rim of his shirt.

Five of them blushed.

Stella fainted again, foam coming out of her mouth.

"Can we go?" Sam, Luan, and Jordan asked at the same time.

"Sorry ladies," Lynn smugly said, her cheeks still red. "You won't be allowed to enter where we're going."

"Wow. What even is this place?"

Even though he'd lived all thirteen years of his life in the same town, Lincoln continuously learned about new things Royal Woods had to offer. He'd overheard Lisa talking about the new Space Center on the outskirts of town during lunch. He thought Luan worked at a local church, but it turned out that Sanctuary, the monastery where all Exorcists trained, occupied about three blocks in every direction. A few days ago Leni suggested taking him to the new Burpin Burger two blocks away from their home, and he didn't even know it existed!

But clearly, clearly, he should've known about the fricking mountain that grew in the middle of town, right next to the bowling alley and Ye Olde Bison Hut. He didn't know at what point a hill became a mountain, but even if it only seemed to be about thirteen hundred feet tall, it looked like a mountain. Its shape perfectly recreated the textbook picture of a mountain peak. Snow lay at the top, which seemed ridiculous considering that some skyscrapers in town were taller and had no snow problems.

Even more than the out-of-context geographical accident, Lincoln marveled at the stronghold that settled on the mountainside. Several rings of tall, stone walls —at least three— circled the peak, with many towers standing tall with flickering, lit bronze braziers and giant metal horns in the shape of a dragon mouth. Within the perimeter of the walls, many structures rose, in a heterogeneous amalgamation of Japanese and Chinese architecture. Low, long temple-like buildings that appeared every so often, sprinkled over the mountainside.

He couldn't take his eyes off it. He'd never seen anything like it before.

"This is The Dojo," Lynn told him, stepping up to his side. "All combat Archetypes can go to the Colosseum to work out and whatever. But we Martial Artists have this. A special place for us to train our auras."

She tilted her head, pursing her lips and scratching her chin.

"Hey, Linc. Can you feel anything?"

He turned to look at her. He decided to ignore how her two buns picked up all the hair she usually left out of her ponytail, allowing him to have a better look at her inciting neck. The fact that her Chinese martial arts outfit clung to her every curve and exposed her long, toned legs didn't help at all.

Yes, he felt many things, but none he could share.

"What do you mean?"

"This place is filled with people working their auras out. Do you feel any different now that you're here? Do you sense some auras or something?"

He focused. Aside from the smell of Pork à la Normande and the sound of people fighting over at the bowling alley, he didn't feel any different.

"I… can't," he said, looking away from her. "Sorry."

Lynn wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. "Hey, it's alright. Just checking."

Not the best start, Lincoln thought.

Lynn led him to the entrance at the street level. A torii, a red Japanese archway, stood proud at the bottom of the peak, flanked by two twenty-feet-tall statues of Chinese lions guarding the entrance. As soon as the two siblings stepped between them, the lion's eyes glowed red and the stone heads turned to them.

"Lynn Loud Jr.," she said, raising a fist.

The statues bowed their heads. Lynn kept walking, but as soon as Lincoln tried to follow her, the two lions hollered a mighty roar that dropped him to his buttocks.

Lynn, not even phased by the colossal statues, looked back and scoffed, hitting her forehead with an open palm.

"Lynn Loud Jr. and her plus one," she clarified, coming back to pick a pale Lincoln up. "Sorry, bro. My b."

He gulped and grabbed his wrist to stop it from shaking. "No problem."

He walked along her and didn't bother to point out that she still kept her hand on his shoulder. However, he couldn't help but bring up something.

"So, uh, what's up with that plus one thing?"

"Only Martial Artists are allowed in The Dojo, but those of us at the top are allowed to bring our Significant Others to the training grounds."

"Y-Y-Your what?!"

"Significant Others," she repeated, pointing out at a written sign on the side. Unfortunately, Lincoln didn't know how to read Chinese. "At least that's what I think the translation means. It's a Chinese thing. It means anyone we're willing to trust our lives with, so we know they would never reveal the secrets of The Dojo to outsiders."

"And… and I'm your Significant Other?"

The hand on his shoulder gave him an affectionate squeeze. "Of course, Stinkoln. I never brought anyone else with me. Prolly never will. Not if you're around."

Their eyes met. As usual, Lincoln felt initially overwhelmed by the fiery passion in Lynn's eyes, an intimidating pyre of love that, however, he always realized felt as cozy and relaxing as a gentle bonfire in the woods.

Lynn thought of him as his significant other. No one else she'd rather give that title to. Could the same be said for him? Right then, staring at Lynn's eyes, he wished he could tell her that she was his Significant Other too. She deserved it. And in that precise second, he felt it was true.

But alas, he couldn't.

As much as he loved her —and as scary as the nature of that love may be, which is why he tried to keep himself busy—, and even though he would trust her with his life without a second thought, he would never be able to choose her over any other of his sisters. A common joke in the Loud house involved any of his sisters saying that he was their favorite brother. He didn't have a favorite sister. He would genuinely feel that whoever was with him at a given moment would be his favorite sister, which meant that whenever two or more of them hung out with him, his brain and heart malfunctioned and he became unable to choose.

Why did it hurt? He'd gone his entire life openly expressing that he'd never be able to have one favorite sister. Why did he suddenly wish he could tell Lynn that she was the one? Or Leni? Or Lori? Maybe, deep down, he knew that by choosing a favorite sister some doors would open. Doors he tried his best to ignore. Doors he pretended he didn't walk past time and time again, aware of their existence, not brave enough to open them himself, but ready to jump in should anyone open them from the other side.

The emotional void in his chest swirled again. He needed to focus. Lynn had just shown him why he couldn't fail. Why he needed to live up to her expectations.

"Thanks, Lynn," he said. "That means a lot."

"No problem," she replied.

The two soon reached the beginning of impossibly long stone stairs that went around the mountain, leading from gate to gate at the walls.

"Uh, we're not gonna walk all the way up, right?"

"Don't think you can make it, Stinkoln?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. My training space is at the very top, right before the snow begins."

Lynn pointed a finger at the sky, almost vertically.

"Dang it. Can't we ask Lori to fly us up there?" He asked, trying to joke.

The hand Lynn had on Lincoln's back fell. He turned to her, noticing the stony, cold look she'd suddenly gotten.

"Uh, you okay?" He asked.

Lynn closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, her lips curled into a wide, fake smile.

"It's okay, little brother. We don't need to fly to get there."

Perhaps acting a bit rougher than she needed to, she grabbed him by his armpits and carried him on her back, throwing her elbows under his knees. "Hang on tight."

"Hang on to whaAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

"—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

With a thud, Lynn landed in the middle of an open field. She stood up, and Lincoln let go of her waist, dropping to the ground. He took a while to catch his breath and make sure the content of his stomach remained there. Once sure that he wouldn't need to ask for a cleanup on aisle three, he accepted the hand Lynn offered him and jumped to his feet. He took a look around and gasped loudly.

All around him, taking up different spaces to accommodate the geographical features of the summit, he saw dozens of training grounds used to their fullest potential. Open fields where groups of up to thirty students, all wearing the same uniform, performed the same attacks over and over again. Rectangular arenas where different persons fought each other. Two guys punched the mountainside, making the whole summit shake almost imperceptibly. Almost. A girl two hundred feet away from them had a bo staff on her hands and fought dozens of copies of herself that disappeared in a cloud of smoke as soon as she hit them.

He heard an explosion and turned around just in time to see a boy his age fall from the sky like a meteor, creating a crater where he landed. The boy immediately stood up, roaring as a blue glow enveloped his body before he charged toward a girl his age that screamed back as she wiggled two sets of nunchucks.

"Ah, feels like home," Lynn said, taking in a deep breath with a smile from ear to ear.

"Is… this place safe? For us, I mean."

He waited a couple of seconds before correcting himself.

"For me."

"Oh, trust me, no one messes with me," she said, grabbing him by the wrist with the same goofy smile on her face. "Now come on, I wanna show you who runs this place."

She led him to a small rock formation against the mountainside, with torches flanking the steps to a Chinese gazebo, with six red columns and a tiled roof that looked like a banana peel. A dozen statues of animals stood around the small pavilion. Lincoln saw a monkey, a horse, a dragon, and what appeared to be a bull among them. Of course, as soon as they reached the entrance to the pavilion, his attention drifted to the figure sitting in the middle of the floor.

He had to assume that he stared at what at some point had been a human. He didn't think it would be accurate to still call him a man, though. A small person, no more than two feet tall, with skin so wrinkled he looked like a raisin that had taken a ten-hours bath. He wore a ragged tunic and wood sandals. His eyebrows were at least ten inches long, and he had a needle-like beard and mustache, black as his eyebrows.

If Lincoln had to guess, that person must have been at least three hundred years old.

Lynn elbowed him in the ribs before she bowed, a closed fist against her right palm. Lincoln imitated her.

"Glad to see you well, sensei," she said.

Lincoln raised his eyebrows. "Gee, what does he look like when he's not well?" He thought.

"I've brought my baby bro to The Dojo. I'll be training him, teaching him how to control auras. You'll be feeling his powers soon. He's awesome!"

He gulped. Awesome, just what he needed. More pressure to do well.

"Well, we're off to train! See ya!"

As soon as they left, and as she led him to an empty rectangular ring made out of marble tiles with four obelisks at the corners, he turned to her.

"So he's in charge of The Dojo?"

"Oh, yeah. He's The One Old Sage North-King Master Of Six Paths Above All, but we all call him sensei," she stopped, furrowing her brows. "Or at least I do. I dunno what everyone else calls him, to be honest."

"So what's his Archetype?"

"I don't know what the Index called it. But he's the ultimate master for Martial Artists. He created some of the best techniques out there, stuff that everyone strong enough uses nowadays. One day he'll let me fight him, and it'll be EXTREME!"

"He… fights? He barely looked alive."

"Oh, no, he's alive. Or he used to be, at least. Some people say he's been dead for two years," she casually dropped to a shocked Lincoln. "Rarely moves or speaks. But when he does, he gives the greatest pieces of wisdom ever. He only ever does it with the best of the best, though."

"So, has he shared any wisdom with you?"

"Aw, you knew I'm one of the best," she cooed. "Yeah, he did, when I first came to The Dojo."

"What did he say?"

"Not even the most skilled of hands can wash itself," she solemnly said before shrugging her shoulders. "Whatever that means."

Lincoln tried to interpret it, but couldn't make sense of it. "It's a bit cryptic."

"I mean, I'm pretty sure he was just commenting on the BBQ sauce I had on my wrist after eating a sub. I'll be paying extra attention to washing my hands and I've basically become the boss of this place."

"Have you?"

"Oh, heck yeah. Which is why no one will bother us while we work on your training."

They reached the ring, stepping up to the center of it. Lynn stood a few feet in front of him and cocked her hip, one hand resting against it.

"So, baby bro," she purred with a sly smile. "Ready to begin?"

Lincoln gulped. All around them, Martial Artists fought against each other using their bare hands, weapons, and all sorts of techniques to accomplish feats far beyond what any regular human or Bystander could handle. Far more than what he could handle, for sure. And yet, Lynn's smile made it impossible for him to back off from their deal. Somehow, for some reason, she believed in him.

And he believed in her.

So, stretching his neck and doing some small jumping in his place to warm his joints up, he spread his legs and got into the coolest martial artist pose he could conjure, smiling at his sister.

"Ready when you are, Lynn."