College is really eating my ass right now

Lincoln Loud was a happy man. He had a wife, a large house, children, money and overall celebrity status. The star child who fought for a country that wasn't even his, for a culture he didn't know and a language he didn't speak. For the people who looked so different than him yet connected with him on a completely different level. For the monuments and for the history of this great new world he had arrived on: Balthea.

Balthea was a lot like Earth. Although it had oceans where the deepest pits could still be hit by sunlight, and the sun in the sky burned a bright and scenic red, the people looked generally human. When Lincoln zapped in, he was surrounded by strange faces and strange noises. He was escorted to a hospital, in what he could only assume at the time was some sort of ambulance. He was shocked by how developed the people were, yet how tribal they were at the same time. These dark skinned, yet pink haired people lived in large houses made of clay and metal. Like a modernized pueblo house. They wore more traditional clothing, but in colors and styles that made them beautiful. They even had spear shops, where custom spears were carved with the finest of materials. He later found out the spear was more ceremonial than anything. Nonetheless, the sprawling city that had treated him so well upon his first arrival, was the country Derhun. Derhun was a large city state, similar to Vatican city. With a population of 5.5 million, the small island nation was very well populated.

It had massive skyscrapers, amazing railway systems and a bustling city life, There were no homeless people, and there was virtually no crime. Yet, the arrival of the boy sent neighboring countries into a frenzy. They were afraid, well, who wouldn't be? A boy of a completely different species just phases into existence in the middle of a highway. Wouldn't you be scared as well?

Wars started. And the people of Derhun went to arms with their allies. Lincoln fought for them as well. He learned the language, the culture, the people. And fought enemy armies down to the last breath. He's seen, and done things worse than most people could imagine. From bombing cities, to shooting surrendering men in front of their families. It was something he'd have to live with forever. For 12 years he had plunged through trenches with guns you'd see in history books under world war one. Derhun was incredibly advanced for the planet it was on. To a point where when traveling other countries, he swore some of them lacked electricity in its entirety. How could someone run a country in this day and age without it? Very poorly as he found out. He'd go home every six months, before going out again. Derhuns own way of making sure the soldiers were happy and knew what they were fighting for. During this time, Lincoln had slept with his wife. A beautiful woman named Delphina. Her bright pink hair clashed with the dark freckles on the woman's brown skin. But he loved her. Not as much as the triplets she had given birth to though. They were his world. At the age of 23, he had everything in the world. Yet he kept fighting. Even when he had been shot, stabbed, and shot some more. Even when his wife had died from an infection while he was away, even while he watched his friends, his brothers, get mowed down by bullet hell, he kept fighting,

On this day however, Derhun had lost. The president of the country a short skip across the pond away, said that Durhun would either give up the boy, or they'd unleash the weapon they had developed and tested. Lincoln recognized the video he'd been shown, it was very similar to the Tsar Bomba tests. They had developed their first nuke. At first, Lincoln begged the generals, and even the president of the country to let him go. But they refused. Lincoln had fought as hard for them as any other soldier they've ever had. And it was time to stop fighting. They had sent Lincoln home to be with his family while the country prepared for impact. The girls were scared understandably. The 9 year olds clenched their fathers arms as he hugged them, and told them stories about the world he had come from. He looked at their faces, and smiled. He'd become a father too young. Delphina was 2 years older than him. And while they did love eachother, they had both considered abortion when they found out she had gotten pregnant. They were too young.

Lincoln was glad they didn't. He loved his girls. Sehnma was the spitting image of her mother. She was tall, slender and full of fight. Her long pink locks went well with her purple irises. Anne was named after Lincoln. Unlike Sehn, she looked just like Lincoln. If it wasn't for her pink Irises, you would have assumed someone had taken Lincoln and gender swapped him. The last child was Chiara. She didn't lean to either Lincoln or Delphina. She looked like both. Tall like her mother, blue eyes like her father. Strong and full of fight like her mother, kind and gentle like her father. Her bright pink hair was considerably lighter than Sehnma, and her Iris's shifted in the sun, something that developed as being a hybrid between Human and Balthean. From green, to blue, to pink, to yellow, to purple. It all depended on how you looked at them.

He loved all of them equally. The countdown on the television to his right hit zero. He felt the world crumble beneath his feet. He held his girls tightly, and told them he loved them.

(Line skip)

Lincoln shot up in his bed. Sweat poured down from his forehead, and his heart beat faster than it ever had. He looked around. He was back on Earth, nothing in his room even remotely shifted around, other than the very fine layer of dust on his belongings. He brought up his hands and looked at them, They were younger, yet still held the scars from when he fought, especially the scar directly in the middle of his hand from when he had gotten stabbed through it. He felt a rustling beneath the covers of his bed, and moved it. There laid three sleeping children. His children. He moved quietly so as to not disturb them, and hopped off the bed. It was noticeably lighter. When he first arrived on Balthea, it was heavy. 1.3 times the gravity of earth to be exact. Now, he felt quick, and nimble. Lifting up his shirt, his abs had stayed, meaning his muscle mass he had acquired must have as well. But how did a 300 pound behemoth of muscle cram itself back into a 11 year old form without losing anything?

His train of thought was interrupted when the realization of something hit him. He was home. With them. The people who sent him to that world in the first place. All over a stupid fucking baseball game. Every scar, every cut, every bullet wound he took, every man and woman he killed, was because of them. Yet on the other hand, if it wasn't for them, he wouldn't have had a wife or children. He took a step forward, his mind lost on what to do in this situation. He didn't notice the pillow laying flat on the floor, and slipped. He fell back, and with a loud boom, the house shook. At first, he didn't think anyone heard it. If anyone was home for that matter. No, he didn't think anyone heard it. Not until he heard the sounds of 9 girls stampeding up the stairs.