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 3
Lincoln followed the Bishop into the parish, through the main chamber, and into a series of corridors leading ever deeper into the building. He had no idea the structure was that immense. Having seen it from the outside only, his perception of it became limited.
They descend several flights of ornate stairwells, eventually arriving at a dead end. The frequency in which candle sconces adorned the walls became less frequent during their descent, leaving them very little light.
Lincoln found it strange that the Bishop had yet to speak, but taking his cues from the silent succubus, he too remained quiet. Even as the older man in the delicate robes fiddled with the keys, he spoke not a word.
Finally, the door parted, swinging open to reveal a dimly lit circular chamber. The man then stepped aside and motioned for them to enter, closing the door and locking it behind them.
Around the edge of the room were ceiling-height bookcases filled with tomes, too numerous to count. In the center of the room was a raised stone dais with intricate carvings around its base.
Lincoln approached the stone platform as the Bishop walked around it and stood opposite him. He then produced a small bowl, which he placed in the dais center, and an athame, which he kept near the edge.
"And what is thy name, risen one?" the Bishop asked, clasping his hands together.
"M'Gum," Lincoln heard Megumi speak with his mouth.
"One's name holds power, and for a demon to reveal theirs is a sign of trust and respect," the Bishop said aloud. "Do you, M'Gum, accept the cost associated with this ritual?"
"I do," replied Megumi.
"And what is your name, son?" asked the Bishop, focusing his attention on Lincoln.
"L-Lincoln, sir," he stammered, unnerved by the eerie lighting and severity of the situation. "Lincoln Loud."
"And do you, Lincoln, accept the cost associated with this ritual?" the Bishop repeated for Lincoln.
"Yes, I do," he replied.
"Very well," said the Bishop calmly. "Lincoln, Megumi, extend your hand, please, so that you may give the offering."
They cautiously reached out their arm to the robed figure. The truth was, neither Lincoln nor Megumi was entirely sure about what would happen. While Megumi knew many things, most were just surface knowledge.
Experience, on the other hand, was something Megumi lacked. Now, Lincoln could see this going one of a thousand different ways, and few ended pleasantly.
But seeing Megumi, a demon, place her well-being in the hands of a priest gave him the courage to continue. Likewise, Megumi's pause became sated in light of Lincoln's courage.
The Bishop drew a thin, short red line across his palm with a quick, shallow slice. He then closed Lincoln's finger's around the wound and turned his first upright so that his blood drained into the bowl.
Lincoln was surprised as his blood seemed darker than usual, not that he usually saw his blood. It wasn't as bright red as when he got a nosebleed or nicked his finger. Instinctively, the boy realized that it was Megumi's essence mixed with his.
When the Bishop released their hand, he began reciting words from an ancient tome, ragged and dusty. As he repeated the words, the blood started to bubble, and soon droplets formed, some red and some black, rising upwards like a reverse rainfall.
The globules began to merge into a spherical shape about a foot above the bowl, hardening into a translucent red sphere, within which a dark shadowy smoke swirled. Then, the chanting ceased.
"And who carries the elements?" asked the Bishop.
"W-what elements?" Lincoln stammered.
"He means metal and leather," Megumi whispered. "Give him your belt."
Nodding, Lincoln removed his belt and handed it to the priest.
The Bishop accepted the item and placed it in the bowl, once more entering into a trance-like state and chanting from the old book. They looked on as the metal began to melt and rained upward, just as the blood had done earlier.
The liquid metal droplets wrapped themselves around the floating orb and began to take on the shape of an ornate sword. Confused, Lincoln gazed at the pool of molten metal, which seemed to produce more mass than expected.
Eventually, the pool drained as the remaining metal placed itself on the sword. They continued staring at the event as the metal cooled and hardened into the final product. Then the leather leaped to life and wrapped itself around the hilt.
In the center of the dais floated a shimmering claymore, slowly rotating. The orb hardened and became the pommel of the hilt, the leather from Lincoln's belt became the grip, and the metal of the buckle became the blade.
Lincoln and Megumi remained still, staring at the weapon as it hung mid-air, slowly rotating on its axis, waiting for its owner to claim it. Seeing something physical, made from both of them, was an odd sensation, giving them pause.
"Go on, son," the Bishop announced, clasping his hands in front of him once more. "Take up your blade. Use it in defense of yourselves until it is no longer required. Then, and only then, return to me."
Gingerly, Lincoln reached his hand out and wrapped his fingers around the hilt, pulling it toward him. He was pleasantly surprised at how comfortable and light it seemed. He fully expected a sword of this size to weigh significantly more.
"T-Thank you, father," Lincoln mumbled, incredulous at what he witnessed.
"Do you have any questions before we conclude?" prompted the Bishop.
Lincoln peered up at him. "Yes, I do," he said. "Why did you and the other priest refer to Megumi as 'risen'?"
"Angels may fall, no?" the Bishop began. "Then so too may a demon rise."
"So they become something else?" Lincoln pondered out loud. "Something more than what they were?"
"Indeed it does, son," the Bishop answered. "Not quite demon, not quite human, something in between. Is there anything further?"
"No, thanks, sir," Lincoln said, turning to leave.
However, something was still nagging at his mind, and he could not dismiss it.
"Wait," he called as the priest unlocked the chamber. "I know this sword sends the soulless ones back to where they came from, but Megumi has a soul? What happens should she get killed?"
The Bishop nodded and motioned for them to follow him out. "Come with me, son," he said. "I'll explain on the way."
The three of them left the room and began heading back the way they came, following the Bishop, who seemed to float more than walk.
"There are four realms, son," the priest began. "One is the material realm, where we are now. Then, two domains overlap ours, but not each other. These are the realms of light and darkness. I assume your resident has told you about these, at least. But a fourth realm rests atop the light and dark realm in the same manner the material realm lay underneath."
"Go on," requested Lincoln when the Bishop paused briefly.
"When one here dies, they go to either the realm of light or darkness," he continued explaining. "If a soul dies there, they go to the fourth domain, which we call the Foundry. It is where new souls come from and where old souls get recycled. Those souls arrive here as newborns. But occasionally, one is misplaced, such as your resident, Megumi."
"I see," Lincoln said, nearly at the main doors. "So, what does that mean for Megumi? What happens to her if she has a soul but is already part of the realm of darkness?"
The Bishop stopped and looked at Lincoln directly. "If that happens, son, she no longer exists. Her form returns to the realm of darkness, soulless as meant to be. Her soul gets recycled in the Foundry, unrecognizable once separated from its form."
"I'm sorry, Lincoln," whispered Megumi, apologizing with a hint of sadness in her voice. "I did not want you to worry about me."
"Worry about you?" Lincoln gasped. "Now, I can't do anything but that! Do you know how much you risked by even coming here?"
"I do," Megumi replied. "But it was the only way."
As soon as the doors opened, Lincoln stormed out, walking as fast as possible, heading home. It was dark out, that much he could see. But Lincoln had no concept of what time it was, his fear of getting home after curfew drove him onward.
"Please, Lincoln," begged Megumi. "Stop for a moment so we can talk."
Lincoln, aggravated with the situation, ignored the girl in his head and kept walking briskly.
"Lincoln," she pleaded again. "Stop, please?"
Finally, Lincoln dropped onto a nearby sidewalk bench, leaned his sword against the stone wall behind it, and put his head in his hands. At this point, he was mentally exhausted, not to mention physically.
"Fine," Lincoln barked. "Talk."
"Lincoln, I did not tell you because I mean to protect you," Megumi explained. "Just because I can get destroyed does not mean the feat will be easy. I didn't want you to worry because worry is a distraction, and that gets one killed."
"Well, great job on that," mumbled Lincoln. "Did it ever occur to you that I might care about what happens to you?"
"You do?" asked Megumi, surprised at his reply.
"You have a soul, don't you?" he snapped. "That makes you human in my book. I don't care what you look like or what stupid powers you have."
"I am sorry, Lincoln," Megumi whispered sadly. "I had not considered..."
The hair on Lincoln's neck began to stiffen once more, alerting them to a dark presence. It was close, they could tell. The source seemed to be coming from their left, and they turned their eyes to see.
A darkened figure stood several yards down the sidewalk under the glow of a streetlight. It was small, roughly the same height as Lincoln.
"Hello there, Lincoln," the figure said in a familiar voice, distorted and deeper than Lincoln recalled.
"C-Chandler?" Lincoln stammered. "Is that you?"
"Me and more," Chandler said, gloating. "So much more."
"This isn't good," Megumi said just as Chandler charged at a ridiculous speed.
Suddenly, Lincoln's body became energized as Megumi lent herself to him, his vision became more precise, and his agility improved dramatically. Though Chandler was running at a dizzying pace, he appeared to be moving slowly toward Lincoln, giving him time to react.
Lincoln rolled to the side, out of Chandler's way, grabbing his sword as the bully passed him. Chandler came to a halt about ten feet away and, without turning, addressed Lincoln.
"So, it's true," Chandler said. "You have a resident."
Lincoln scrambled to his feet, using the low, stone wall behind him as support. He then took an awkward stance, facing their assailant.
"What of it?" Lincoln barked. "By the sound of your voice, I assume you have on as well? What's your name, demon?"
"Haha, haha, haha!" it laughed before finally turning to face Lincoln. "Do you take me for a fool?"
Suddenly, a dark tendril shot from Chandler's body, forming a giant fist, and he punched Lincoln so hard that he fell backward onto the bench, nearly losing his grip on the claymore.
The attack was swift, leaving Lincoln unable to react. Rolling off the bench and back onto his feet, he reclaimed his stance from before, much more on guard. His jaw hurt like hell, and he was indeed bleeding.
"Fight!" encouraged Megumi. "Remember, this weapon cannot hurt your friend, only the demon within. Do not hold back. Embrace my gifts and visualize yourself using them!"
Lincoln squinted his eyes, focusing intently on his target. Gripping the hilt with both hands, he squeezed his hands, feeling the boosts Megumi was feeding him, and charged.
Lincoln moved light lightning, surprising even Megumi. Chandler's eyes opened wide, not expecting such alacrity. Lincoln passed by Chandler, swinging as he went.
The blade sliced neatly through Chandler's waist and passed through the other side without cutting the boy. However, the demon within howled in pain as the claymore severed him in two.
Lincoln stopped some yards away on one knee, his sword held behind him where his swing ended. Turning only his head, he peered back at Chandler and saw him fall unconscious, leaving behind a shadowy replica of himself.
"Your time is near its end! The Master will hear of this!" screamed the demon as its top half began sliding away from its lower and then dissolving into nothingness.
Standing, Lincoln approached Chandler's limp body and stared down at it.
"When do you think it happened?" he whispered.
"Most likely in school," Megumi told him. "Probably when he failed to attend class."
"Well, anyway," Lincoln muttered. "What do we do with him now? We can't just leave him here."
"I understand," Megumi acknowledged. "Do you know where his domicile is?"
"I do, and that's a good idea," Lincoln replied. "We'll take him home and leave him on the porch. I'm just curious what will become of him, though. Now that he knows..."
Megumi's energy still coursed through Lincoln, and picking the boy up was astoundingly easy. Lincoln hoisted his form over his shoulder and began running toward Chandler's home.
"The boy will not remember anything from the point he got invaded until he wakes up," Megumi told Lincoln as he ran, seemingly without exhaustion. "He will recover."
They had Chandler home and resting on a porch swing in no time.
"Well, I guess we should head home ourselves," Lincoln sighed. "Time to face the music."
"What do you mean?" asked Megumi.
"I'm supposed to be in by nine o'clock," Lincoln informed her. "From the look of things, it's much later than that. Mom's going to kill me. Besides, how am I going to explain this sword? She'll never allow me to keep it, you know."
"Place it upon your back," Megumi said calmly.
Lincoln didn't understand but pretended to slide it into a back-mounted sheath. Once resting upon his back, it disappeared. At first, Lincoln assumed he had dropped it and began looking around for it.
"Hey!" he exclaimed. "Where'd it go?"
"It's still there, ready for the next time you need it," explained Megumi, chuckling at him. "Just reach back and grab it."
"Interesting," Lincoln said, beginning to yawn. "Now, let's go home."
"Agreed," Megumi whispered.
Shortly, Lincoln and Megumi found themselves outside their house. All was quiet, and the lights were out. That meant trouble for Lincoln. His parents were probably sitting on the couch, waiting to yell at him.
"How are we going to get inside without waking anyone or getting caught?" pondered Lincoln.
"There," whispered Megumi as they passed under his window. "That will have to do."
"How do you expect me to get up there?" Lincoln griped. "It's like twenty feet up!"
"Jump," Megumi instructed as she funneled some more of her energy into his legs.
Sighing, Lincoln prepared himself, eyeing the target and leaping toward it. Surprisingly, he found himself hanging by the circular window frame a moment later.
Careful not to make additional noise, he hoisted himself up and into his room, where he sighed one final time before getting undressed and into bed.
"Megumi?" Lincoln whispered.
"Yes, Lincoln?" came her response. "What is it?"
"Feel free to use my laptop tonight," he said, tapping the device as it rested upon his nightstand. "Just do me one favor."
"Of course, what's that?" replied his resident.
"Leave my body and sit next to me while you use it," he asked of her. "That way, my body can rest, and you can still touch me if needed to maintain your form."
"Thank you," Megumi answered. "That is most thoughtful."
As Lincoln exhaled sleepily, Megumi moved out of him and condensed back into her mortal form. Then, taking a seat beside him, she opened the laptop. However, instead of using the keys, she laid her hands on the keyboard. Her fingers turned into mist, which wormed their way under the keys, and suddenly, the screen came to life.
Images and articles whizzed by at blazing speeds as she learned about humanity in greater detail. After a few hours, she'd had enough. At some point, history seemed to repeat itself, and she gave up going any further back. Satisfied, she stood in the middle of the room, guarding Lincoln.
Occasionally, she'd lay her hand upon his shoulder to maintain herself. Other times, she'd simply gaze at his sleeping form. Yesterday, Lincoln had been an average youth. Today, he was much more.
Lincoln ignored common sense, betrayed his mother's expectations, and hadn't asked for anything in return. Indeed, this boy was something special. And for the first time since her creation, she felt something.
