Chapter Text
A rare, all too fleeting moment of peace at the Loud House was abruptly and unceremoniously terminated as the front door burst open. A moment later, a young man in his late teens darted through the threshold, slammed the door behind him, and immediately proceeded to the second floor, taking the steps two at a time with a proficiency which suggested this was a regular occurrence. It wasn't until he reached the top of the stairs that he finally came to a stop. Rather than continuing his flight, he spun on one heel, put his hands on his hips, and adopted a broad, friendly smile.
"Hey there," Said Lincoln Loud, punctuating his greeting with a short, chipper wave. "I was wondering when you guys would be back."
"It's been a while," He continued, before rethinking the statement. "Well, it's been a while for me at least. Because…"
He gestured at his older, leaner, and decidedly less bowl-headed self.
"I feel like that narration probably could have stopped at 'older'", he grumbled, giving an annoyed shake of his head. "But regardless, a lot's happened since the last story. And I'd like to catch you guys up, but I'm running a little late, so we'll have to do it on the move."
He motioned to follow him, then proceeded down the hallway and towards his room.
"So, if you've read the previous story, you've probably got the basic setup," He said, glancing over his shoulder. "But I can run through it again really quick…"
Lincoln reached up, his hand momentarily disappearing before he yanked it back down. Clutched in his hands was a chart, which immediately began following alongside him, even after he let it go.
"Here's the basics," He said, withdrawing a small cylinder from his pocket. At the press of a button, it telescoped outward into a pointer, which he then directed at the top corner of the chart.
"Lisa asked me to be a 'willing participant' in one of her experiments," He said, pointing at a cartoonish drawing of a young, bowl-headed boy trapped in a tube.
"It was actually a success. The problem was that she was trying to see if she could extract a human soul. And managing to pull that off introduced a whole bunch of other complications…"
The pointed slid downward to a second drawing, now depicting the tube boy with x's for eyes.
"Technically, I died," He said. "My body was still there. It was apparently still functional. It just wasn't me anymore. Strictly speaking. I was...somewhere else. And there's a pretty decent chance I'd still be there if she hadn't gone to Lucy for help. And she was able to fix it. Um, kinda. It's..."
Reaching his room, Lincoln let out a small sigh.
"You know what?" He said, sharply tugging on the bottom of the chart, which sent it flying back up to wherever it had come from. "At this point, it's probably easier if I just show you what we're dealing with."
His ears perking up as the telltale sounds of his siblings returning home began wafting up the stairway, Lincoln slipped into his room and locked the door behind him.
"Just...bear with me for a bit..." He said as he climbed onto the foot of his bed and stood up. "And…"
He looked up and gave a small wave.
"I'll see you guys on the other side," he concluded, giving a reassuring smile.
Bending his knees, Lincoln leaped straight up and fell backwards, aiming for the center of his bed—
—and the instant he landed, his eyes bugged out, his limbs spasmed, and then...his body went still…
When Lincoln woke next, it was with a full-body spasm and a deep intake of breath. Which was immediately followed by a short, violent coughing fit. Nevertheless, he weathered the storm, and when he had control of himself once more, he sat up and began to inspect himself.
"I always wake up here wearing an orange polo," He muttered, tugging at his shirt collar. "Is there some deeper significance to that? Or…"
As he trailed off, he looked up and smiled once more.
"Hey again," He said. "You're probably wondering what the heck that was about. Well, I guess the easiest way to explain that is to just say—"
He hopped to his feet and spread his arms wide, causing the camera to pull back and reveal a field literally made of clouds.
"—Welcome to Heaven," He said, pulling the focus back to himself. "Or at least, the outskirts anyway. That's the real deal."
A gesture behind him resulted in a panning shot of a massive city glowing with heavenly radiance.
"Neat, huh?" Lincoln said as he dusted himself off. "Come on, it's a bit of a walk to the front gate, so I'll explain on the way."
"You see," He continued as he set off at a brisk walk. "The ritual Lucy used to reunite my soul with my body had an...unexpected side effect. The way she explained it, the process of removing my soul and then haphazardly shoving it back in left my soul kind of...' loose'? Like, you know how when you've got a tooth that's about to fall out, it kinda wiggles around in your mouth? Well, apparently that's my soul now. And just like that tooth, all it takes is one good...pow!"
He held out his palm and punched his fist into it.
"And out it goes," He said. "But instead of just hanging around, like most of her ghost friends do, my soul always ends up making a beeline straight to here. We're...uh, we're really not sure why exactly. But thanks to that, I'm Heaven's first repeat customer."
As he spoke, he drew close enough to Heaven that its large, shining gates came into view.
"Come on," He said, as he broke out into a jog. "I'll show you."
While the gates initially appeared to be unguarded, as Lincoln approached them, a pale, blonde-haired man popped out of a small booth just off to the side.
"Hi there!" He said, pulling a large tome from within the booth. "Welcome to Heeee—oh."
He blinked in mild surprise as he took notice of Lincoln. Then promptly released his hold on his book, allowing it to fall back to wherever it had come from.
"Hey, Linc," He greeted the boy with a short wave. "Welcome back! You have another accident? Or…?"
"Thankfully, no," Lincoln corrected him with a chuckle. "It's Friday, Pete."
"I'll take your word for it," St. Peter replied with a wan smile, before fumbling around in his booth and retrieving a much smaller book. "The Boss is gonna be thrilled though. It's been…well, nevermind that. Anyhoo, just show me your hand stamp, and I'll buzz you in."
Lincoln held up one hand, revealing a shining golden mark on the back.
"It lets me get back in without having to go through the usual formalities," Lincoln explained as he glanced to the side. "Kind of like the ones they have at theme parks."
"Alrighty," Peter replied, as he scribbled something into his book. "And this is for you."
He tore something out of the book and held it out to Lincoln, who proceeded to take it, albeit somewhat perplexed.
"...What, exactly, is this?" He asked, examining the small gold card he'd been given.
"It's a new thing we're trying," Peter explained. "One of those punch card deals. From now on, you get a punch every time you check in, and once you get ten, you win a free sundae."
"But…" Lincoln began, blinking slowly. "Aren't I the only person who comes and goes from Heaven? And, also...the ice cream here is already free."
"Yes," Peter said with a nod. "And...yes. But it's more fun when you win it. Right?"
A beat of silence followed.
"This was one of Emily's ideas," Lincoln said, waggling the card from side to side. "Wasn't it?"
"Got it in one, kiddo," Said Peter, as the massive gates began pulling back, allowing him entrance. "Head on in. I'll let em' know you're coming.
"Thanks again, Pete," Lincoln replied, starting towards the gate, only to halt mid-stride. "Oh, and hey! If you feel like joining in—"
"Not on your quote, unquote, 'liiiiiiiiiiiiife'!" Peter sang as he promptly disappeared back into his booth.
Finding himself alone once again, Lincoln let out a small sigh and rolled his eyes.
"That would be so much more annoying if everyone up here wasn't such a great singer," He muttered as he stepped through the gates.
"It's pretty weird what you can get used to," Lincoln remarked as he continued his trek through Heaven. As he did so, more and more of its inhabitants came into view, a fascinatingly broad cross section of individuals who came in a wide variety of colors, shapes, and, on the outside, at least, species. A few who noticed his presence took a moment to wave or call out a greeting to him, and he returned the gestures.
"As you can see, I kind of stick out like a sore thumb here," He continued. "Or at least…"
He gave his pale hair a ruffle and tugged at his shirt collar.
"More than I normally do," He added, with a self-deprecating chuckle. "See, the way it was explained to me is that when humans die and come here, they're reborn into a new form. Around here, they're called Winners."
"Now, as you can see," He continued, gesturing to himself. "I didn't get that makeover, which is yet another first that we're chalking up to my unique condition. The working theory is that it's because I don't actually die when this happens. My soul just goes for a loooooong walk before it returns home. And seeing as how this has been going on for a few years now without any of that changing, it feels like a pretty solid explanation."
Lincoln hung a right at the next intersection and began heading down a new street. Towards the end was a building that resembled a high-end apartment complex.
"So you're probably wondering how I live like this," He said. "Well, 'live', heh. And really, it's a one day at a time kind of situation. Barring Lucy and Lisa, of course, as far as everyone else back home knows, I just started having 'fainting spells' one day. Naturally, my family freaked out over it, and I spent a lot of time getting poked and prodded by different doctors as they tried to diagnose a cause that didn't involve my soul periodically leaving my body. But eventually, with a lot of coaxing...as well as some carefully doctored medical documents, courtesy of Lisa, it's settled into just being a thing I have to live with. The upside is that I haven't had to participate in a gym class since middle school. The downside is that now my family and most of my friends treat me like I'm made of glass. But, all things considered, it could have been way worse."
"And now you're probably wondering what a human like me does when they temporarily get kicked up here," He continued. "And the answer to that is….all kinds of stuff, honestly. Seriously, they have pretty much everything up here; it's awesome. And they set me up with my own place I can crash at while I'm here. Which, incidentally, is where we're heading."
He gestured towards the apartment building as he drew close to it, taking a moment to admire its pristine exterior before he started towards the front door. Just as he was about to reach for the handle, however, the door swung open, and a roughly man-sized snake-man slithered out.
In most situations, this would have been quite alarming, but the effect was considerably diminished by the fact that he was just such a dapper-looking fellow, dressed in a freshly pressed suit jacket and sporting a large top hat.
"Penn!" Lincoln exclaimed as he clapped the gentleman on the shoulder with one hand, and held out the other in greeting. "How the heck are you?"
"Wonderful to see you, dear boy," Sir Pentious replied, taking Lincoln's hand in his own and giving it an enthusiastic shake. "My, how the time flies. It feels like I haven't seen you since...Oh!"
His eyes widened in realization. All of them. Even the extra ones that were scattered around his serpentine form.
"Is it Friday already?" He asked. "Or have you suffered another one of your...accidents?"
"It's Friday, Penn," Lincoln replied, with a roll of his eyes. "Which, now that you mention it, means we could use you if you're up for it. Our last try-out didn't go so well, and we've got an empty chair to fill."
"As much as I would love to, I'm afraid I can't," The snake said apologetically. "I'm just running out for a few quick errands, and then I'll be quite busy for the rest of the night. You see…"
He leaned in closer, and Lincoln, obligingly, turned his head so he could listen better.
"I sort of have...a date," Pentious whispered, so loudly as to completely and utterly defeat the purpose of doing so. "With my girlfriend,"
"Ah," Lincoln replied, nodding sagaciously. "Well, that's quite a bit more important."
"It's only a video call," Pentious added, anxiously pressing his index fingers together. "On account of my being unable to leave here. But—"
"Don't do that to yourself, Penn," Lincoln interjected. "It's a big deal, and I'm happy for you. Don't worry about us, you just focus on your big date. And have fun with it!"
"I...I will try," Pentious replied. A nervous, but hopeful smile formed on his face. "Thank you, Lincoln."
"Any time, Pal," Lincoln replied, giving him a companionable pat on the shoulder.
"Well, that's a shame," Lincoln said to himself as he ventured into the building. "But what can you do?"
"So, 'what?'" He continued, as he made his way to a solid-gold elevator. "I hear you wondering, is all this hubbub about it being Friday? Well, it's simple. I end up spending a pretty good amount of time here, with my own place, and no parental supervision. And most days, I honestly just try to stay out of the way. Heaven's all fun and games for Winners, but there's a lot that goes on behind the scenes to keep everything running as smoothly as it does."
"But," He added. "Once it looked like my trips here were going to continue for the foreseeable future, and I got a little more comfortable with expressing myself, I took it upon myself to fix what could only be a terrible, terrible oversight on the part of the folks who run this place."
A soft ding resounded as the elevator doors silently swung open.
"And now, thanks to me," Lincoln said as he stepped into the elevator and punched in his destination. "Once a week, I host the one thing that Heaven is so sorely missing. I speak, of course, of…"
He flung out his hands dramatically.
"...Game Night!"
"Alright," Lincoln said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation as he looked around the table. "Your sword finds its mark. Your opponent's armor was already on its last legs, and your last strike sunders it completely, before carving through the vulnerable flesh beneath. The last of the bandit leader's bodyguards breathes his last breath as he collapses to the ground."
"Fool," The elder seraphim muttered, shaking her head sadly. "I offered him mercy. All he had to do was stand aside…"
"Unfortunately," Lincoln continued, holding up one finger. "Thanks to the regenerative powers of his enchanted choker, the bandit leader has nearly recovered from the wounds you'd previously dealt him. And if that wasn't bad enough…"
He quickly began setting out additional miniatures, to the growing dismay of his players.
"...The bodyguards were successful in their attempt to delay you. The air is filled with the blare of battle horns as reinforcements begin pouring into the chamber," He said. "We're at the top of the next round. Emily, you're up."
"I move to block the walkway. Hopefully, I can keep them off Sera for at least a little while longer," said the younger of the pair. "I'm readying my warhammer to take a swing at the first bandit who comes into range. Aaaaand….?"
"We already agreed that apologizing is a free action," Lincoln replied, giving the girl a bemused smile.
"Great!" She exclaimed. "Then I will also apologize profusely as I smash the first bad guy to get close."
"Sera," Lincoln continued. "The leader forgoes his turn, on account of the fact that his body is still stitching itself back together. But he's going to be combat capable next round."
"I'll bash him in the face with my shield," She replied, "Maybe that will slow him down."
"It's an automatic hit, since he's in no shape to dodge it," Said Lincoln. "The damage won't matter much since he'll just heal it up next turn, but it stuns him enough that he'll be going last next turn. That buys you a little time."
"Time that will only mean something if we can do something about that choker of his," Sera mused, frowning contemplatively. "So to that end...I'm declaring a called shot to his neck."
"Daring," Lincoln remarked, as he ran the numbers in his head. "And risky."
"That's why I'll spend the remainder of my aiming my blow," She said, as she glanced to the left and right of her. "Which should allow my allies to give me some assistance."
"I've got you on my next turn!" Emily confirmed, giving her an enthusiastic thumbs up.
"Nice," Lincoln said, nodding his approval. "Which brings us to…"
Three heads turned in unison to the remaining member of their group, who throughout the foregoing exchange had been silently seething with barely contained rage.
"Your...Highness," The pale-haired angel barely managed to growl through her gritted teeth. "Again, I must protest—"
"And again, Lute, your protest has been duly noted," Sera interjected, exasperatedly. "But the rules are quite clear. As lieutenant of the Exorcist army, it is your job to fulfil the duties given to you by your commander."
"Aaaaand Abel did delegate his chair to you," Emily added. "After he realized the game involved rules and math and...pretty much immediately lost interest. But hey! At least he rolled up a character for you!"
The lieutenant's jaw somehow clenched even tighter, and a sound began to emanate from her that strongly reminded Lincoln of the kind made by Lisa's rock tumbler.
"...I," The Exorcist said at last, "Play a jaunty tune on my...instrument...to bolster the spirits of my...allies…"
"Alright," Lincoln replied, as he jotted the action down on his notepad. "And just to make sure I'm applying your proficiency bonus properly, I'm guessing by 'instrument', you're talking about your lu—"
If looks could kill, Lincoln was fairly certain that the one Lute directed at him would have erased him from the Akashic Records.
"...And we're moving on," He said, hurriedly, deliberately looking away from the murderous intent-drenched angel. "Top of the round again. The reinforcements close in on Emily, but the narrow walkway forces them to approach you in single file. The first one to close in triggers your readied strike, Emily—"
"Pow!" She shouted as her dice clattered to the tabletop. "And also, 'Sorry!'"
"You hit, sending him staggering back into his comrades," Lincoln said, making a die roll of his own. "But he looks weirdly at peace with it."
"Yay!"
"And that brings us to your actual turn, Emily."
"I'm giving Sera the biggest blessing I can cast!" She said. "Go on, Sera! Take his head off! Uh, purely out of necessity and because there are literally no other options, obviously."
"Obviously," Lincoln and Sera echoed in unison.
"And now the moment of truth," Lincoln said, looking to Sera. "Last chance to back out."
"Wouldn't dream of it," She replied, giving him a confident smile. "I'll drop my shield, grasp the holy symbol around my neck with my free hand, and take the strike!"
"So you're invoking your devotion bonus," Lincoln muttered, as he scribbled furiously. "Accounting for the leader being stunned...Emily's blessing, not to mention Lute's…"
His eyes darted to the Exorcist of their own accord.
"...support," He concluded. "Make your roll."
Sera's fist clenched tightly around her die as she shook it, before casting it to the table. Time seemed to slow as it descended, bounced...bounced again, and then stopped.
A hush fell upon the table as the players looked to Lincoln.
"It…" He said, taking a deep breath as he double checked his calculations. "It hits!"
"Sera's blade slices straight through," He continued, "Severing the bandit's head so thoroughly that even the power of the choker can't save him. The head crashed to the floor with a clatter that's dramatically amplified by the make of the chamber, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. And upon seeing their leader fall, this time for good, what little courage remained with the bandits is shattered, and they flee for the hills!"
He sat back in his chair and let out a dramatic sigh.
"The Elysium Knights...are victorious!"
"Huzzah!" Cried his players joyously. Except, of course, for…
"Huzzah," Lute muttered, giving a very unenthused fist pump. "Now can I please—"
"Yes, Lute," Sera cut her off. "Your duty is discharged. You may go."
"Finally!" She grumbled as she leapt to her feet. Immediately, she began making her exit, only to stop just before reaching the door.
"You," She said, directing one last icy glare at Lincoln. "Remember our deal, Maggot. Next time you're here, your ass is mine!"
"N-naturally," Lincoln replied, giving her a stiff nod. "You held up your end, I'll do the same."
The lieutenant gave a stiff bow to the two seraphim and then stormed out into the hallway.
"She's a bit more...enthusiastic than usual," Emily observed, as she climbed to her feet. "I think I'm going to go follow her. Make sure she...leaves without hurting...herself…"
"I think that would be prudent, Emily," Sera nodded in agreement. "Thank you."
"No problem at all!" Said the younger of the pair, as she rose into the air with a flap of her wings. "Thanks for the game, Lincoln!"
And with that, she darted off into the hallway.
Lincoln let out a relieved sigh and then set about putting away his gaming supplies.
"You made a deal with Lute?" Sera asked, one eyebrow arching quizzically. "Should we be concerned?"
"It's not a big deal," Lincoln replied with a shrug. "I told her it was her duty to play, like you suggested, but I guess coming from me, it wasn't enough. So I agreed to let her kick me around the Exorcist's training field next time I was up here, and that was just enough to close the deal."
Sera let out a very unladylike snort of bemusement.
"You didn't have to do that," She said, shaking her head.
"Yeah, I did," Lincoln replied, as he put away the last of his things. "The adventure needed at least three people, and Abel left us in the lurch. So, I did what I had to."
He climbed to his feet and smiled at the seraphim.
"And I'd do it again," He said, offering her a smile and a hand up.
Sera daintily took his hand and rose to her full height, now towering over him.
"Well, I appreciate it, Lincoln," She said, giving him a warm smile. "Things have been...complicated around here, as of late. And these weekly games of yours do much to ease the burden."
"Happy to do what I can," He replied, smiling up at her. "So...same time next week?"
Sera knelt down and raised one hand.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," she said, as she gently placed her hand upon his forehead. "And now…"
Her hand began to glow with a golden radiance.
"I send you back to Earth, Lincoln Loud," She said, softly. "Till next we meet."
With that, she applied pressure, almost as if she was trying to push him over. What actually happened, however, was that her light traveled to Lincoln, where it began to grow brighter and brighter. And as the light grew more radiant, Lincoln's entire form began fading away.
"Bye Sera!" He called out. A blinding flash ensued, and when it faded, Sera was alone.
Sera took a deep breath, then rose to her feet, steeling herself as she mentally prepared to return to her duties.
WHAM!
Only to start in surprise as the apartment door abruptly slammed open.
"SERA!" Emily shouted as she darted inside. "LINC—oh!"
Her face took on an annoyed pout as she glanced around the otherwise empty room.
"You already sent him back?" She asked, stamping her foot. Or, trying, anyway, since it didn't accomplish much when one's feet weren't on the ground to begin with.
"It was time for him to go," Sera replied. "After all, Lincoln has other things he needs to do back on Earth."
"I know," Emily muttered. "This just would have been more convenient if he were here too.
"ANYWAY!" She exclaimed, immediately reverting back to her usual energetic self. "I just had THE BEST idea, and I had to hurry back and tell you as quickly as possible?"
"Oh?" Sera asked, smiling bemusedly at her sister. "And what would that be?"
"We have…" Emily said, pausing dramatically, "A GAME NIGHT!"
A beat of silence followed, and Sera's smile stiffened somewhat.
"Emily," She began. "We just had a game night. And as fun as they are, we do have other things to worry about. Not to mention, Lincoln has—"
"Nonono!" Emily cut her off. "I get that. What I mean is that we've got a lot of stuff going on right now that stems from the...tense, relations between Heaven and Hell, right?"
"Of course," Sera replied, pinching the bridge of her nose as she felt a fresh migraine coming on. "In fact, that's exactly what I'm heading off to deal with right now. Thankfully, Lincoln was able to make time for us. If I hadn't had an opportunity to vent my frustrations through his game, I don't know what...I…"
As she trailed off, her eyes widened in growing realization.
"You cannot be serious," She deadpanned.
"Serious as a bad haircut!" Emily crowed excitedly. "And yes, that's exactly what I'm saying! We get Lincoln…"
"Emily…"
"Wait for it!" The younger angel protested. "To host…"
"I seriously think we should—"
"...a game night, IN HELL!" Emily shouted before she lowered herself to the ground and took a seat at Lincoln's table.
"There," She said. "Now we can talk about it."