Royal Woods, Michigan. The sky had been dyed blue with clear skies and parched by a bright sun. It was a normal day like any other; children playing without a care in the world, their parents conversing about the latest news in their respective lives. A couple cars were buzzing around town, their destinations only known to the ones behind the wheel. The trees swayed repeatedly with the gentle breeze that grazed their leaves. "Picturesque" would be the best term to describe the life within this metropolitan setting.
On the outskirts of the town, in the cramped suburbs filled with midday energy, a young boy, hair bleached with a permanent snow color, was running down the sidewalk that stretched far beyond the neighborhood where his birth home stood; a dwelling that was beaten by years of housing his unbelievably large family and all the shenanigans that they indulged themselves in. This young boy of eleven years began to pick his running pace up, first at a jogger's pace until he began to enter into a full sprint. His mind was fixated on the task at hand: participating in his younger sibling's hobby. He was never one to completely turn down an offer to help one or more of his various sisters with anything that required his assistance. One could say it was in his nature to be helpful, as much as humanely possible to anyone. Perhaps that is what stood out about him the most, next to the obvious hair color issue he had ever since he started growing hair in the adolescence phase of life.
Sprinting harder than ever, the boy's vision began to alter slowly. Solid objects began to blur, mixing in blue-green hues and yellow-red tinges. The next change he noted was that his legs began to feel lighter as he sprinted even faster. On his wrist was a watch-like band with an electronic, neon green display with numbers that began to cycle back and forth with random numbers as if it had been on the fritz. The small beeps and chirps it emitted followed in sync with his ever increasing sprinting speed. The boy's heart began to race as he understood what was happening. The fabric of time and reality was warping, the barrier of the third dimension was beginning to weaken. 'Just a little more,' he mentally chanted, and soon it would only be a matter of time until he achieved what his sibling had told him prior.
In a quick flash, the boy disappeared into a newly fabricated ripple in the world. His sprinting speed stayed constant, but the fatigue in his legs became increasingly apparent, threatening his progress. Taking deep if not rushed breaths, the boy powered through the pain. A little ways ahead of him was his goal: a sliver of bright light, as light as his hair, came into view. It was his off-ramp on this interdimensional highway, and he was primed and ready to exit. As he drew closer, he rushed with closed eyes towards the light. 'Almost there,' he desperately begged to his objecting body. It would comply briefly and soon he pushed right through to the other side. Feeling his legs now seizing up, he let his whole being collapse to the ground. Though his eyes were closed, he could tell that he had fallen onto a patch of cool grass, the back of his head feeling each blade pricking passed his hair and into his scalp. Slowly he cracked open one eyelid at a time, taking in the somehow familiar blue sky. The sun, thankfully, had passed behind a small patch of clouds, sparing the boy from a blinding view.
The boy, exhausted from the running, and elated with the knowledge that he had achieved the goal, grinned and let out a short laugh.
"Lincoln Loud," he began to speak to himself in a confident tone, "welcome to the future."
End of Prologue