Disclaimer: The Loud House and associated characters belong to Nickelodeon and Chris Savino
Megumi no Jotai
(State of Grace)
By Lola Presents
Episode 1 - The Escape - Part 2
Lincoln didn't fare much better the last part of the day than he did the first. People either gossiped about him standing up to Chandler or started rumors about him being a bad-ass. In both cases, it was highly uncomfortable for him.
For the most part, Megumi was unnoticeable for the remainder of the day, and Lincoln counted his blessings, though her silence also unnerved him. It wasn't until the final bell rang and people made their way to the busses that she made her presence known.
"Where are we going now?" she asked.
"Home," Lincoln thought. "Where else would we go?"
"It might be wise to do some reconnaissance," Megumi suggested. "Don't you think?"
"On who? thought Lincoln, unable to see how the succubus could have any clue where to begin. "I mean, where would we even start?"
"I recognize my kind on sight," she told him, "from their aura. You will too, in time. But we need to practice first," she added as they sat down beside Clyde.
"What do you mean 'practice'?" Lincoln asked in his head. "Practice what?"
"Merging," Megumi replied. "If we are to fight as one, you need to become used to me being part of you. Doing so will heighten your senses. You will become stronger, faster, and more agile. And as mentioned, in time, you will learn to see others like me."
"There are others?" Lincoln said out loud by accident.
"Other what?" asked Clyde, who played an asteroid-mining game on his Super-Snap 95, showing signs of wear and tear.
"Oh, nothing," Lincoln lied, turning his attention to the trees as they passed. "Games, Clyde. There are other games one can play. You don't always have to play the same old thing."
"You're doing well," Megumi praised him. "But do not become complacent. That is when one is weakest."
Lincoln spotted an oddly painted fire hydrant, one he recalled from earlier. He'd seen it just as his neck hair came to a stand on the way to school. Interestingly, no such phenomenon occurred this time. Sighing in relief, he began to relax and turned toward Clyde.
"What's your score now?" he asked of his friend.
"Nothing to boast about," Clyde answered. "I messed up going over the railroad tracks a few streets back and had to start this level again."
"That sucks, dude," Lincoln said. "Maybe we can get together this weekend and play?"
"That'd be great," Clyde said, saving his game and turning the small console off. "We haven't hung out in a while."
"Yeah, I know," Lincoln agreed. "It seems like ever since we moved up to middle school, our lives have gotten much busier."
"Indeed," replied Clyde as the bus began to slow. "Well, buddy, this is my stop. See you tomorrow!"
"Later, Clyde," Lincoln responded.
Once the boy departed, the bus began moving again, and a few streets down, Lincoln's hair stood on end once more. He tried to flatten them with his hand, spitting on them for extra measure, but nothing laid it back.
"What the heck is going on?" Lincoln thought, staring at his palm.
"You're sensing one of my kind," Megumi whispered. "Though it's too faint to discern."
"What do you mean, one of your kind?" he gasped. "Another demon? Is it 'them'?"
"It is difficult to tell," Megumi answered. "Whether based in darkness or light, our kind is ambiguous at this distance. I cannot say."
"Wait, you mean there are beings of light too?" Lincoln queried silently to himself.
"Of course," Megumi replied. "All things must have balance. We wage war over the spiritual resources your realm offers. Each can manifest here through hosts but never enter each other's realm."
"What are you saying?" asked Lincoln, feeling small. "That we're just cattle or something?"
"Far from it," reassured Megumi. "Humans have a capacity that my kind do not. Both those born in darkness or light are soulless and duty-bound to their realm. Humans are far more powerful than they realize, for they have souls and the freedom of choice."
"Well, here's my, I mean, our stop," Lincoln interrupted her. "It's time to go. We'll finish this later, alright?"
"As you wish," conceded Megumi.
Lincoln made his way to the house, with Lynn not too far behind. But she was closing ground, calling his name. Finally, he came to a stop and turned toward her. Not because he didn't want to talk to Lynn but because he had other plans.
"Hey, Stincoln!" called Lynn one more time as she pulled up to him. "Didn't you hear me calling you? Why didn't you stop?"
"Sorry, Lynn, I just have something on my mind," Lincoln told her. "Literally," he thought. "What's up?"
"Listen, I heard about what you did to Chandler at school today," Lincoln's sister told him. "But people have been talking, and I thought you should know."
"Know what?" Lincoln asked, furrowing his brows.
"Chandler intends to get you back both for tripping him and the milk incident. I don't know how exactly, though. So, keep your eyes open," Lynn said. "Otherwise, I'm proud of you for standing up like that."
"Alright, thanks for telling me, Lynn," he said. "But I think I can handle it."
"Well, you better!" Lynn spat before heading past Lincoln and into the house. "No brother of mine is going to be known as a loser."
"Your sister seems spirited," Megumi observed.
"You can say that again," Lincoln agreed. "Everything is a competition, and she'll stop at nothing to win. If I let her, she'd have me occupied the rest of my life training for something that will never happen."
"But something will," Megumi reminded him. "Sooner or later, the darkness will find us. We must prepare."
"Ugh!" Lincoln shot as he walked through the door, shedding his bookbag on the way to his room.
Once there, he closed his door and locked it, sitting on his bed afterward. His life was beginning to feel out of control, and he wished he had some sense of direction. But as it is, he was without a compass of any sort. He needed to talk to Megumi but would prefer to do so in person.
"Megumi?" he whispered under his breath, preparing him for his partner's manifestation, which always gave him the creeps. "You c-can come out now.
On cue, the extra layer of shadow around him began to dissolve and shift, merging into the young girl he met that morning. It started with her feet and legs, waist and torso, and eventually, her arms, chest, and head. Soon, the last pieces of her hair assembled, and Megumi stood before Lincoln, looking as she had before. Yet, for all her sameness, something was different.
"What's the matter?" asked Lincoln curiously, furrowing his brows. "You look troubled."
"That girl you sat with today," Megumi began. "The one with tan skin and black hair."
"Stella?" Lincoln replied. "What about her?"
Megumi began wandering around Lincoln's room, exploring it in the daylight. Her eyes caught his monotonous wardrobe, many comics and models, and other odds and ends that defined him. Cataloging things for later use, she turned her head back toward her host.
"You fancy her, do you not?" Megumi asked sullenly. "You dreamed of her when I first entered your mind, and I felt your desire."
"I suppose, maybe, a long time ago," Lincoln admitted. "But don't take dreams too seriously. They're mostly an assortment of random things."
"What happened?" Megumi asked, continuing to study Lincoln's room, wandering from one foreign distraction to the next. "Between you and Stella?"
"Well, we, uh, me and they guys," Lincoln tried to explain. "She was the new girl at school, and we all liked her. We started fighting over her and almost lost her entirely, even if only as a friend. Eventually, we settled things, realizing that she wasn't interested in us that way, and we've been friends ever since."
"That's unfortunate," Megumi replied, relieved at the absence of competition. "Though, it bears well for us."
"Why do you say that?" asked Lincoln, a little suspicious, given her motives.
"The fewer attachments you have, the better," Megumi informed him. "The darkness may use them against you."
As much as Lincoln tried to deny things, he began to feel the weight of their predicament. Settling into a calmer state of mind, he resigned himself to whatever came next.
"So, what's our next move?" Lincoln asked for guidance.
"We need to practice merging," Megumi said. "Once we are comfortable doing so, we need to train."
Lincoln nodded, coming to a stand. "Alright, let's do this."
"Brace yourself," Megumi instructed and watched as he held himself steady against his nightstand. "That will do."
Once more, the entity shifted into smoke and entered Lincoln's body. However, this time, she held nothing back, and Lincoln could feel her presence wash throughout his body. His entire body tingled as if electrified. Then, nausea came, forcing him to kneel before his waste bin.
"Ugh," the boy exclaimed as he wretched. "That tastes awful."
Showing him mercy, Megumi exited his body, again standing beside him.
"You will get used to it," she told him. "Shall we try again?"
Sighing, Lincoln came to a stand and nodded while wiping his mouth.
"Yes," he said. "Keep going."
Once more, Megumi shifted and entered her host's vessel. Again, Lincoln felt the static tingle. It took a moment longer, but he soon started vomiting. Fairing better this time, he smiled when done, prodding Megumi on for a few more rounds.
After ten attempts, the transition became seamless, and Lincoln no longer felt nausea or vomited. Concluding the session, Megumi exited once more and began poking around in Lincoln's belongings as he lay on his bed, relaxing from the ordeal.
As Megumi browsed his possessions, she came across a stack of drawings. She began studying them one at a time, placing recently viewed images at the back. Halfway through, she arrived at something familiar.
"Who is this?" Megumi asked, holding up an old picture, the edges worn from time and handling.
"Hm? Oh. Those are some old doodles I made last year," Lincoln told her. "Do you like them?"
"Yes," Megumi said. "They are beautiful. But who is this particular girl?"
Lincoln took a closer look. The girl in the image was sitting on a park bench. She was petting a poodle, who sat at her feet at the end of its leash. Then Lincoln paid closer attention and understood Megumi's question. The girl in the image looked exactly like her, down to the red ribbon in her hair.
"I d-don't know," Lincoln stammered. "She's only someone I made up. Why? Is it important?"
"Possibly," Megumi conceded, replacing the drawing and putting the pages on his dresser. "This is the form your unconscious chose for me. It must mean something."
Lincoln rose and walked over to the dresser. Picking the drawing up, he studied it intently. Lincoln remembered drawing it sometime last year while feeling lonely. The girl in the image wasn't of anyone he knew but one he'd made up. Though he had to admit, looking back at the picture after so long, the girl's beauty still impressed him.
"May I see?" Megumi asked, peering at Lincoln's awkward expression. "From your point of view?"
"S-sure," Lincoln said, choking up slightly. "Go ahead."
Megumi nodded as she vaporized once more, entering Lincoln. Once settled, the being saw the girl in the image the way Lincoln did and felt his feelings toward her. The girl was more than a drawing to Lincoln. She had a personality and a life of her own. There were things she liked and disliked, and she had aspirations for the future.
"So beautiful," Megumi whispered, then paused as Lincoln's neck hair suddenly raised stiffly. "Wait..."
Lincoln began to feel cold as Megumi exited him and reformed in the middle of his room. She quickly gazed in all directions, looking for something. However, it seemed she wasn't looking at the walls but past them.
"What is it?" he asked, springing from his bed.
"A sprite," Megumi said sharply. "One is near. We need to move."
Quickly attaching herself to Lincoln's shadow, Lincoln felt control of his legs recede as Megumi took over. She ran out of the room and down the stairs, then finally, out of the front door. It was all Lincoln could do to retain his balance, his arms comedically flailing as she ran.
It was the weirdest thing that Lola and Lana, his seven-year-old sisters, who sat on the couch watching cartoons, had ever seen. From their perspective, Lincoln looked like a glitching game character as he ran out the door. One half in complete control, the other animating at random.
The two youngsters looked at Lincoln, then each other, then back at the television, choosing to ignore the bizarre display.
"Whoa, there!" shot Lincoln as they headed into the woods behind the house. "Hold up! You can just tell me where to go, you know!"
Eventually, Megumi came to a stop, releasing her control of Lincoln's extremities and reforming her body.
"I apologize, but time was of the essence," his partner announced. "They are getting close to locating us. We will need to train faster once we return to our domicile."
"Fine," Lincoln said, panting, doubling over, and resting his hands on his knees.
All the exertion Megumi invoked now rushed into Lincoln's aching brain.
"But what do we do until then?" Lincoln asked, still catching his breath.
"We must seek out a father," Megumi informed him.
"You mean, like my dad?" Lincoln inquired, mostly calm now in the fresh air.
"No," she replied. "A practitioner of the light."
"Oh!" the boy said, finally understanding. "Well, there's a parish not far from here, and there's always somebody there. I think, anyway."
"That'll do," Megumi affirmed. "But we must hurry if we are to arm ourselves."
"Wait..." requested Lincoln. "Arm ourselves? Can you slow down just a little, please? Besides, you still haven't even told me what a sprite is yet."
"A sprite is a small but powerful minion of darkness," Megumi explained, scanning the woods. "The Master uses them as scouts. Should it find us, assuming we survive, more will come, followed by sentinels and eventually reclaimers."
"If we survive?!" shot Lincoln. "If this sprite thing is strong enough to take us, we don't stand a chance against anything else. What are we supposed to do now?"
"That's why we need a father," Megumi informed Lincoln, facing him. "The church denies an ancient ritual," she continued. "But it exists and is guarded and shared by select clergy. Its purpose is to divine a soul sword."
"A what?" gasped Lincoln. "A-And just how does one make it?"
"By combining pieces of two souls," Megumi told him. "Given willingly by a host and its resident. Unable to carve human flesh, yet render another soul in twain, sending it back to the realm from whence it came."
"Y-You want to rip out a part of my soul?" fretted Lincoln, leaning against a tree, finding it difficult to process.
"In essence," the demon told him. "However, I will give equally. You need not do this alone. Besides, you did say there had to be another way other than killing innocent people. A soul sword is our only option."
"Is there anything else I should know?" demanded Lincoln sarcastically, thinking no end to the madness was coming. "Like, do I have to sacrifice my firstborn?"
"No," replied Megumi. "However, once we have the soul sword, we must acquire the services of your sister. Her competitive edge seems adequate to train you in the physical skills."
"Okay, hold on," Lincoln said, beginning to pace and grow agitated. "I know I said I'd help you, but you can't expect me to get my sisters mixed up in this."
"She need not know the reason," answered Megumi. "You need only ask her to train you."
"I don't know..." Lincoln murmured, sitting near the base of the tree where he paced.
"I understand," said the demon. "You are feeling overwhelmed. I expected as much. However, we have little time. Please, take us to the parish."
Lincoln sat for several minutes in silence, ignoring Megumi, who remained motionless, waiting for his response. Nothing in his wildest dreams could compare to the reality of last night and today.
At one time, he imagined himself as a superhero, mutant, or alien with incredible powers. Still, now that something extraordinary had happened to him, he considered turning away from it.
He peered up at Megumi, standing as still as ever. Was what she said true? Or was she leading him down some dark path? His heart told him one thing, but his brain another.
As stoic as she seemed, Megumi had already shown herself to be more complicated than expected. It wasn't something that Lincoln knew factually but rather something he felt.
"Alright," he sighed, resigning himself to an unknown fate. "Join my shadow again, and we'll head that way."
Megumi nodded and faded away into his shadow as requested, and together they headed off down the street. Both remained quiet until arriving at the parish, a large structure several streets down. They arrived close to nightfall, and the streetlamps began turning on, illuminating their way.
"Lincoln," Megumi said, pausing his advance.
"Yes?" he thought. "What is it? Do you sense something?"
"No," replied Megumi. "I felt it essential that you understand something. You see, I cannot enter the parish outside a host."
Lincoln nodded and breathed heavily. "Very well."
Megumi then entered Lincoln's body in the shadows of the parish walls. It took Lincoln a moment or two to adjust to her presence, but soon the discomfort passed, no longer felt nauseous following the event.
Lincoln walked up to the tall, wood-and-brass double doors and knocked loudly. His charge echoed throughout the chamber beyond, and after a moment, they heard footsteps resonating from within.
"When the father arrives, please let me do the talking," Megumi requested.
"You know more about this than I do," Lincoln pointed out. "Who am I to argue."
Suddenly, the footsteps stopped, followed by the sound of a tumbler. Then slowly, one of the large doors creaked open, and a young man peered out.
"May I help you?" he called.
"Lypámai tin eisvolí mas, patéra, allá erchómaste na anazitísoume kápoion pou boreí na sfyrilatísei éna xífos psychís," said Megumi in ancient Greek.
("Pardon our intrusion, father, but we come seeking one who can forge a soul sword.)
"Fysiká, anastiménos daímonas. Epitrépste mou na páro ton Epískopo," the father said in response as he closed the door.
("Of course, risen demon. Allow me to fetch the Bishop.")
Lincoln inexplicably understood what they were saying, despite never learning Greek. Megumi's presence within him perhaps facilitated the knowledge, but he wasn't sure. He'd have to ask her about it later.
Soon, a sallow, older man came to the door and peered out before fully opening it. Once open, he ushered them in.
"Please, come in," he said invitingly.
