A Loud Among Demons

by TvFan2244

What happens when a normal human boy is cursed down below to the bad place itself? A series of misadventures that test the limits of how much craziness one white haired kid named Lincoln Loud can take before snapping after being taken in by a band of demon assassins, all while trying to find a way home. He just hopes he'll live long enough to make that dream a reality. On AO3.

21. Chapter 21: Boot Camp

Season 2 has ended and it was so fire!

The ideas just flooded my mind after each episode!

And to celebrate the holidays and new years, here is the interim chapter taking place shortly after the harrowing events of Exes and Ohs. Family reunions sure are a real hassle, aren't they? Especially when it includes a crime lord father and a skeezy con-artist ex-boyfriend. Oh, can't forget about the Doomslayer levels of massacring demons.

Moxxie's taste in men is questionable but as far as ladies go, he sure struck gold with Millie.

And Lincoln, our intrepid young soul, showed another ominous display of his ever growing demonic potential. Those parts of this story have always been a personal favorite aspect of mine.

Side note, all reviews on this story should only relate to this story and keep the whole debate in the reviews civil if you'd be so kind.

This isn't a message board.

Enjoy!

---

"Come along now, Lincoln, honey! Yer gonna love this!" Millie promised Lincoln who was in his imp disguise once more, walking Imp City's streets in his casual clothes alongside Moxxie and Millie. Now that he finally had a way to fully blend in with Hell by masquerading as a demon via mask, Lincoln can walk in broad daylight, with no worry of being made out as a human and not a rabbit sinner. Millie was ecstatic at this, as this made the three look like an authentic family of three imps having a terrific day. This week, IMP was off from work to lick their wounds and recover their minds after recent harrowing adventure.

She even had a nice little surprise that was bound to have Lincoln say bunches of thanks to his mama.

"On my way! Come on, Moxxie!" Lincoln ushered to the adult imp.

Every step his little hooves took, Moxxie had a tense feeling that increased. He had the same feeling yesterday, as well.

In fact, it's been lingering a lot due to the events that featured an impromptu reunion with his father, Crimson.

Crimson.

The bastard excuse of a father who tried to marry off Moxxie all to make some quick bucks.

Who also nearly had his family and coworkers killed.

He could have let him die, but didn't want his damn blood on Lincoln's hands.

That was the perfect chance to do the act himself. The years of abuse and manipulation would have made it more than justified but he didn't, Lincoln's wellbeing took top priority.

Still, should he have not at least tried?

They managed to survive, but they didn't cross just any demon.

His old man was a crime lord who did not take kindly to those who strike against him. Millie and Loona may have dwindled his numbers, but Crimson could always hire replacements. And then, he'd put all his energy in orchestrating his revenge on I.M.P. This very second, he could be at his manor in Greed, plotting assassinations, ordering hits, tracking their movements, and so on. It made Moxxie fearful, paranoid even, and why wouldn't he? Crimson was a very credible threat, one that I.M.P can't easily get rid of like most who usually accost them.

Millie turned around and her arms spread.

"Ta-da!"

Lincoln's eyes sparkled.

It was-It was beautiful.

A sight he thought he'd never see again.

Satan damn it, they should have sent a poet.

An arcade.

An actual arcade.

He didn't realize until now just how long it's been since he last paid a visit to a place of fun, a place immersing oneself in digital adventures, and gorging on the exquisite cuisine arcades were famous for.

Like all things, its overall theme was heavily Hell-bases, but that made it look all the more compelling.

"Millie, you are the best!" Lincoln happily hugged.

She squealed, arms around him.

"Ah knew you'd love it! Everyone at the office knows how much you love video games and now that you can fool everyone with your fancy disguise mask, you can enjoy freely playin'! Come on, Ah can show you how yer ma plays, tot!"

Millie showed Lincoln one of her favorite games in the arcade.

Two VR headsets for a simulation of a tag-team cage match were taken by them and they were facing off against virtual minotaur fighters as NPCs cheered for the mayhem to begin.

In the non game world, Lincoln and Millie did various defense stances and throwing punches which on the screen were the moves against the enemy characters. Millie's involved very over-the-top finishers. "Pay attention, Lincoln! This is how yer ma took care of business growin' up!" The NPC audience cheered as she held the fresh head she tore off for all to see. "That's right! Hail to the fuckin' queen, you computer generated sons of bitches!"

Moxxie kept a close eye on the pair as they continued playing.

Even in a place for recreational fun, there was bound to be danger at every corner.

A passing aquatic demon caught sight of Millie and smirked, his hand reached for her ever so slowly.

Which gave Moxxie enough reason to grab him from behind, gagging his mouth and pulling him aside into the janitor's room. "Alright, you! How much did Crimson pay you, huh?! How much are you willing to break up a happy family over?!"

"Dude, what the fuck?!"

Moxxie pressed a pistol against his ribcage. "I'm asking the questions, dickhead! Thought this was gonna be an easy hit? We're just fucking imps so it'll be an easy pay? Well, these imps take shit from no one! Hear me?!"

"The hell are you even talking about, man?! I'm not gonna kill anyone?"

"...You're not?"

"No!"

"...Are you sure?"

"Frisk me if you want, I got nothing on me!"

Turned out he was right, all Moxxie found was his wallet, a pack of smokes, and a flint mint condom box.

"Oh. Ooooooh…crumbs." Moxxie coughed awkwardly. "Well, this is an error."

"Yeah, no shit." The aqua demon spat. "All I wanted was to cop some of that firetoad ass."

"...Pardon?"

"I mean, hey, I got some standards. But I'll admit, as far as imps go, that lady friend of yours ain't that bad. Might even actually call her back. Hahaha!" He obnoxiously laughed.

Beat of silence commenced as Moxxie narrowed his eyes dangerously.

Less than ten seconds later, Moxxie walks out, his gun was smoking and he wiped black blood off his face. "Asshole." Moxxie's eyes shot wide when Lincoln and Millie were no longer at the VR game. "Oh, dear Satan! Where'd they go!"

"Mox! Over here!" Millie called, she and Lincoln were now enjoying a racing game that was done in a post-apocalyptic style. "Guess what? Our little man shot off the marauder's murder machine and it caused a whole crash! It was glorious!"

"N-Not literally, of course!" Lincoln added. "Though, it did feel pretty dope…."

Time went on and the three left the arcade, the married assassins were kind enough to buy souvenirs and smoothie drinks for their surrogate son. "Okay, I think that might be enough excitement for today. Why don't we go back to the office, I'm certain that we must have a new client by now."

"Come on, Moxxie, yer bein' more uptight than a Wrathian cow wrangler tryin' to stop tippers at night." Millie countered. "We're livin' the parenthood fantasy that Loona always said we wouldn't have before Lincoln came around!"

"Is everything okay, Moxxie?" Lincoln asked.

"Of course, of course! It's just anything can happen, heh-heh, eh…." Moxxie trailed off, staring warily at the dive bars where loan shark demons frequent.

He couldn't take any risks.

Not with the safety of his family.

Blitzo, for all his flaws, would understand.

….At least, Moxxie hoped that he would.

If he wasn't being his usual self.

---

When Lincoln, the only person Loona tolerates, isn't at the office, Loona would have to contend with messes caused by Blitz. "Look, lady, I don't care if he ruined your whole family dynamic, that shit's got nothing to do with me." She barked at the bone telephone, being more than fed up with these non-business related calls.

"Looney, who's calling? A new client?" Blitzo asked in his office. "Tell 'em were on a sabbatical or somethin'."

"Nah, just some bitch you used to do, at least according to her. All pissy about you taking off after catching you balls deep in her brother, or cousin, some cheating in the family type deal? Is that true?"

Blitzo tapped his head thoughtfully. "I think so? I mean, the cousin part sounds familiar, but a brother? Definitely would have remembered that. I mean, I also fucked someone's mom, but I just thought that was the dad which is a whole different story altogether."

Loona cringed. "Fuck, Blitz, is there a hole in hell you haven't been inside?"

"Ah, just let those calls go to voicemail. If I worried about every nighttime tango I've had, I wouldn't get anything done. And I do some very important work that requires my full attention, you know."

Today's important work was acting out a scene that involved him play-acting with tiny horse figurines.

"Oh, Clippy-Clopp, I bet you got a huge sword sheathed somewhere." He did a high pitched voice, moving around a pink one.

For the brown horse, he actually made a neigh sound. "Get that mare ass over and find out, sexy~!" Blitzo made sloppy kissing noises, smushing both figures together. "Mmm! Oh, give it to me! Give it to me, you studly stallion! You want it, you take it, you majestic breeder!"

"Blitz! We're back!"

Hearing Millie, Blitzo zipped out to greet his employees. "Hey, there's my favorite little workers! Did you little scamps have fun without me? Bet you didn't. Bet you also wish you'd have invited me over because otherwise, it'd be a dick move not to."

Lincoln rolled his eyes. "Blitz, if you wanted to come along, you could've asked."

"Wha-And look like a clingy little bitch desperately in need of friendship? Is that what you think of me?" Lincoln stared deadpanned, making Blitzo frown. "Oh, shut up. Just hope you had your fill playing your little games. Because, I'll just say it, things are BOOOOOOOOOOOring!"

Loona shrugged. "Fair enough."

"I mean seriously, we seriously need another job! The last client barely gave us pocket change! Not even enough to satisfy the latest auction online for a limited edition equestrian painting that I have been eyefucking for as long as I can remember!"

And he knew he wasn't the only one, plenty of equally horse loving weirdos in Hell.

He's met them at parties.

"In that case, sir. I for one, hereby call for a meeting!" Moxie dramatically, raising a finger.

Lincoln looked between Millie and Loona. "Uh, we're all here, Moxxie."

Moxxie blinked, putting his finger down. "Right. Well, uh, good. Because there is an important matter we must discuss."

Blitzo groaned. "Oh, for the love of Satan's holes, fine! I'll take the camera out of your shower stall! You know, if I didn't know any better, Mox, I'd say you hate that I consistently stalk you and Mills."

"That's not I-I'm sorry, you put a what in where?!"

"I know, right? Waterproof cameras?" Blitzo chuckled, impressed. "What will they think of next?"

Lincoln looked at him, disturbed. "Yeah, that's not what he means. Also, ew, Blitz. Just ew."

"Oh, sure, go ahead and judge, Sucubus lover." Blitzo smirked at his intern's shocked look. "Yeah, that's right. Thought no one else could hear you listening to a certain parking space stealin' hoe's songs, did ya?"

"Lincoln Joseph Albert Knolastname-Loud!" Millie admonished hands fiercely on her hips. "What did Ah tell ya about listenin' ta that dirty music!"

"Wha-I-Those were only Verosika's instrumentals!" Lincoln placated. "They're very soothing with or without the words!"

"Yeah? Well, I hope a paid deduction is also soothing, buddy boy."

"Oh, for-Blitz, you're making me feel more and more stupid about not accepting her job offer. Paid offer, just so you know."

"Ha! Nice try, pal! I know you care too much about this company to just walk!"

Lincoln stuttered in his attempted retort, but couldn't refute that. "Whatever."

Predictably, Blitzo had to act all smug about it. "I rest my case!"

"Excuse me, hello?" Moxxie was not in the mood for this. "Can we please not digress! This is an important matter that we simply can't ignore, although we will circle back to the camera in the shower, something that we should have known earlier." He sent a pointed stare at his unashamed employer. "What I'm referring to is our previous little adventure where we met my fa-" He retracted, even acknowledging their biological ties was too much for Moxxie to stomach. "Crimson." Lincoln rubbed his arm in a frown, I.M.P told him about his second demonic episode.

"What? You worried your old man will try gunning for our heads?" Blitzo scoffed obnoxiously. "Please. The way I see it, we did the fucker a service. If we hadn't wrecked his place and massacred hordes of his guys, he never would've found that slutty goof, Chaz, was planning on connin' his way into the family."

"You don't know him like I do Blitz." Moxxie warned. "If there's one thing he doesn't tolerate, besides anything non-heterosexual, it's people crossing him. Even if he was being played by Chaz, we still defied him. Fought against him. The fact that we did so and still walked away alive might as well be spitting in his face….of which I actually did."

Loona yawned. "Is there any time where you get to the point already?"

"What I'm saying is that Greed mobsters like Crimson don't just let such infractions go. It's a whole thing about pride and reputation. Besides, he'll take any excuse to finally get rid of his greatest shame." Moxxie sighed miserably, Millie's hand comforted his shoulder. "Bottom line, we should be prepared for when, not if, he decides to retaliate."

"Okay, okay. I hear what you're saying, Mox." Blitzo nodded, arm over the worried smaller imp's shoulder. "And yes, I really do mean that. But come on, you're talking like we'd be 'sleepin' with the fishes'." He joked with an accent. "Like hell we'd just get owned by some two-bit grunts."

"Don't think he won't try hiring more capable muscle. He may not have gotten Chaz's nonexistent riches, but he's sure to have at least enough for just that. Hence, why I think it's imperative that we make sure to be ready by doing some good old fashioned training."

Moxxie's solution got his wife's blood pumping.

"Hot damn, that's what Ah'm talkin' about, sweetie!" Millie punched her palm. "This gonna be another classic I.M.P trainin' day, I call teachin' Lincoln how to throw a mace!"

Lincoln sweated. "Uh, I think I still need to work on crossbows."

"Good suggestions, both of you." Moxxie, however, had different ideas. "But what I'm thinking is something more advanced." His face contorted into a narrowed serious glare like there was a dramatic close-up. "Boot camp!"

Millie gasped.

Lincoln, Loona, and Blitzo were clueless.

"The fuck is that?" The boss questioned.

---

With little explanation, Moxxie requested everyone dress in their country themed garb for their next destination was back to the Wrath Ring. "Okay, Mox. Run this by me again." Blitzo drove a little too annoyed. Wrath had far too many uncomfortable memories for him even if it was home to M&M. "There's this fancy training camp here in hick town that you want us to sign Lincoln up so he can pass for a Wrath-bred I.M.P? At least tell me we'll make a stop for Mill's DILF and MILF parents."

"Not the words I'd use, but that's about the gist of it." Moxxie confirmed.

"Are you sure about this, Moxxie?" Millie asked. "Not that I'm against our boy learnin' to fight like an imp. But, this is boot camp we're talkin' about. And for the record Blitz, it's not some fun summer camp for imp tots. It's the toughest meanest and unforgiving trainin' ground in all of Wrath. Ma and Pa never even signed me or any of mah sibs up for it. Won't this be a little….much?"

"Ordinarily, I'd agree with you, Millie. But that was before we had to worry about the likes of Crimson."

Loona nudged Lincoln and whispered a bit. "Don't you think you should speak up, Linc? Way I see it, Moxxie's getting his panties in a bunch."

Concerning as boot camp sounded, Lincoln did see some reason in why Moxxie thought this was best. "Maybe, but wouldn't it be a good thing for me to learn some more advanced stuff? Who knows? I might actually learn the hang of it. I've done pretty well training under Millie and she's worth ten coaches."

Loona sighed, resigned. "If you're sure, Linc."

"First things first, people. We need a referral from one of the boot camps' alumni." Moxxie stated.

That alumni just so happened to be located at Millie's family ranch.

I.M.P approached it very quickly and they saw Millie's father, Joe, chopping some lumber with a battle ax.

Wiping off sweat, he spotted the vehicle parking outside his home and smiled widely. "Well, howdy damn! Look who it is! Hey, Sallie! Lin! Better come out here! Got some visitors who finally decided to drop by!"

His wife and other daughter went out to see what got the family patriarch so excited.

Lin became equally overjoyed. "Dip me in lava, is that our independent little Mildred?! C'mere, sweetie!"

Millie jumped into her parents' arms. "Ma! Pa! Oh, why does it always feel like ages whenever I come by?"

"Maybe 'cause ya never visit that often."

A red rush tackled Millie into the mud.

It was Sallie May who made that little remark and greeted her only sister the best way they knew how to. Some harmless sisterly wrestling, at least putting Millie in a tight choke hold counted as harmless in their family. "Though, Ah can't say I blame ya, big sis. Who wouldn't be scared of gettin' their ass handed to 'em by me. "

Millie smirked back. "Sorry, couldn't hear you." She grabbed her sister's shoulders and flipped on her back to pin her down. "Not over the sound of you callin' quits!"

Blitzo grinned, tail shooting up. "Okay, beginning to think this was a good idea!" He recorded them on his phone.

"Okay, break it up, you two!" Joe grabbed them by their shirt backs. "You know the rule. No tearing each other apart after you're all grown up. And Blitz, pleasure to see you again. Business has been good since word got out that the runner up of the last pain games stayed over at our humble little abode."

"Yeah? Figured they'd care more about Striker being your old farmhand." Blitzo spat out the cowboy's name.

"Maybe, but the wily bastard went and hightailed out of here. Word is he's also decided to go freelance like a sucker. Oh, no offense."

Blitzo grinds his teeth. "Haha, yeah, well, it's not really a sucker's game since we've actually turned a quota this week. Don't believe me, ask your grandkid, he and Mox usually handle crunching the numbers."

"Speaking of, where are ya, son?" Joe asked Lincoln who exited the van. "Don't tell me you think you're too good for huggin' yer….pappy…." he trailed off when saw Lincoln in his imp disguise. "...uh, shit, my memory startin' to go into the crapper? Can't help rememberin' you lookin' less, and I know how fucked this sounds, red last I saw you."

"Huh? Oh, the mask." Lincoln removed it. "Just a way to move about without giving me away as a human."

"Well, put that thing away, sweet pea. No need to hide anything from yer family and c'mere!" Lin waited a long time for another chance to cuddle her adopted grandson and she was done waiting. "Mmmwah!" She pecked him on the cheek. "How are you, sweet pea? Been eatin' well? Oh, grammy's got some leftover pies in the fridge!"

"Hehe…." Lincoln blushed bashfully. "Happy to see you too, grammy Lin. Uh, you too…aunt Sally."

Chuckling, Sallie May ruffled Lincoln's hair. "Think Ma's bad now? Should've seen her when Mills, the boys, and I were tots. You'll get used to it, squirt."

Millie noticed the absence of the other male family members. "Speaking of, where are they? Our brothers are usually helpin you out in the field, Pa."

"Lin and I sent tehm to fetch some more grub at the market." Joe answered. "The fam made quite a haul this harvest. Enough to keep our stomachs full come the next one. And hey, what with the whole freelance situation you folks got, y'all could always work here and-"

"What's that? Free food? Oh, well if you insist!"

Blitzo didn't want to hear more cracks at how working freelance is a low paying gig.

Just as Lin promised, there were frozen pies that got instantly heated up by a magma powered oven. A common kitchen appliance around Wrath, cooking the food to levels that are suited for the imp denizens' tum-tums.

Amazingly, Lincoln once again was able to safely eat them despite being a human.

Probably just a curse side effect.

Yep, that's all it was.

A simple side effect.

Now for him to speak up and avoid thinking about other, more ominous, possibilities. "Wish this was a casual visit, but there's another reason why we came here."

"Allow me, Lincoln." Moxxie stood up from his seat. "Joe, Lin, I realize that we've never really seen eye to eye on many things. However, I have a personal request that I hope you'll agree to."

"Hmph, is that so?" Joe raised a questionable eyebrow. He's willing to admit that hiring Striker was a screw-up on his and Lin's part. But, that doesn't mean he'll just roll over for the son-in-law he was still critical of. "Just because you married into the family, that don't mean we'll just give handouts all willy nilly. Not after Cousin Willy Nilly. Our son''s wife tried to warn us about her cousin and boy howdy, was she right to. Sleazy little bastard!"

Lincoln looked to his adopted aunt. "What happened to Cousin Willy Nilly?"

"You don't wanna know, bud."

"It's nothing of that sort, I assure you. The reason we came to Wrath is so that I.M.P can further refine and advance our already impressive combat prowess." Moxie stopped Blitzo before he could comment. "And no, Blitz, that's not a euphemism for whatever you're thinking after hearing the word 'prowess'."

"Killjoy."

"Anyway, for starters, we're hoping to sign Lincoln up for boot camp."

Joe spat out some pie on Moxxie's face, Sallie May stopped eating, and Lin ceased washing the dishes.

"F-Fuck!" Joe hit his chest. "Would, uh, would you mind repeating that?"

"It's as I said."

Everyone heard Lin's hands slam on the kitchen counter. "Boot camp, huh?" The ranch matriarch turned to give her son-in-law a pointed look. "You tellin' us you want our grandbaby to go through Wrath's trainin' that only the few can stomach."

Moxxie pushed aside the pressure she was giving him, he stood firm and resolute. "Being one of its famous trainees, we were hoping you'd put in a good word."

"Hang on, I thought your old man was the vet we were looking for?" Loona asked Millie.

"Oh, sure, Pa did his stretch. So did me and mah sibs, but ma was one of boot camp's golden trainees. She was the runt of her liter back then, yet surpassed everyone else and made a name for herself. The Red-Hot Fury."

Lin narrowed her eyes at Moxxie. "In that case…" She smiled wide. "Everybody, get ready! It'll be so excitin' to see the old place!"

Moxxie smiled. "Huh. That went smoother than expected."

"What exactly is boot camp like? I know since it's Wrath, it's probably….intense." Lincoln conceded. "But, I'm sure it was easy for you two, right?" He asked Joe and Sallie May.

The father and daughter shared a tentative glance.

---

No imp is a true Wrathian unless they've mastered the sublime art of combat. That's been the law of the land since Wrath's very foundation. It was the ring that births extraordinary fighters and it's only through intense training of the mental and physical-mostly physical-variety that they become as such. Imp parents teach their little implings the best they can, but if they really want them to turn out as the most deadly bloodthirsty imps in Hell, then there's only one fitting training ground in a Ring that adores the very concept of warfare.

Boot Camp.

I.M.P's van and Millie's family truck took the route Lin remembered very well and as they drove, they passed by rows of imp skulls mounted on spears. Up ahead were four mariachi dressed imps that started their Ode to Boot Camp.

Guitars played repeating dunes and they sang in tandem.

"Sit a spell as we regale the bloodiest place that makes bitches wail."

"Wanna prove your worth in Hell, then Boot Camp's the place, oh, it's so swell!"

Boot Camp didn't have any fancy compounds like a traditional one.

No, this training ground and the trainees were under a strict regime that made the training Lincoln's had under Millie actually look tame by comparison. Imps were doing push-ups but had stacks of stone slabs on their backs.

"Bones breakin', play-killin', that's what we call Boot Camp!"

I.M.P and Millie's family approached the entrance where a gaggle of imps ran across the field while the trainers chased them, firing off rounds that hopefully were only blanks or rubber bullets.

The blood-soaked socks weren't a good omen, though.

One had his sparring partner in a headlock.

"Wanna learn how to twist a head off? Boot camp!"

An imp was being awarded by a trainer.

"Be recognized as a stone-cold killer to be heard of? Boot camp!"

"Let's say it again, ain't no place like Boot Caaaaaaaamp!"

"Enough, already!" A gray haired bearded imp in a black tank top and red camo jeans sprayed water on the mariachi band. "By Satan's testes, I keep tellin' y'all to can it with all the motherfucking singin'! Every time folks roll in, it's an entirely different number! At least stick to a single theme, you fucking little shits! Go pester the assassins at the pub, you like evading their privacy with yer noise!"

Lin smirked, whipping her tail to announce her presence. "Still got that sunny disposition of yours, eh, McDarell."

The old imp squinted his eyes and they widened upon recognizing her. "Well, by Satan's dangling ball sack. Here I thought that pain in mah scrote from earlier was morning pains. Should've known it was a sign of danger comin. What in Hell brings you back here, Lin? Here to make me look bad in front of the recruits again?"

"Ha! Like you need my help for that!"

"Oh? You wanna help me? Then help by getting your trouble making ass out of my face!"

"Still pissy about my graduation fight?"

"I stand by what I said! I had a cold that day!"

Lin and the old timer glared at each other before grinning and sharing a friendly laugh, grasping their forearms. "Good seein' you again, brother."

"Yeah, well, I guess you've earned your right to come back every now and then." McDarrel saw the company she kept and Joe was the one who stood out. "Shit, you really done and brought your whole fam, didn't ya? And hang on, is that you, little Joey?!"

"Joey?" Lincoln's eyes landed on an embarrassed Joe. "Is he talking to you?"

"Er, must be mistaking me fer-"

"Aw, what? Want me to call you Joe now since yer a tough big man now!" McDarrell slapped Joe's back, powerful enough to make him bend over. "Ah still can't wrap my head around Lin settling down with you of all people!"

Joe grumbled. "Yeah, good to see you, too."

"Aw, just bustin' yer chops! Ya always were a sensitive soul!"

Moxxie blinked once. "He was?"

"Like you wouldn't believe! Took a while to toughen him up! He had a tendency to lag behind Lin which was even more embarrassing on account that he always followed her like a lovesick little pup."

Millie and Sallie May couldn't help but snicker and Joetrembled, not appreciating his younger days being aired out like this. "If we're done making a pit stop at memory lane, I'd like to introduce you to the newest addition to the family and Wrath's newest little recruit!" His tail pushed Lincoln ahead.

"Oh, right! Um, I'm Lincoln." The kid waved amicably.

"ATTENTION!" Lincoln stood stiff as a board when McDarrell screamed. "You listen and you listen well, soldier! You will only tell me your name if I ask for it! Did I fucking ask for it?!"

"N-No!"

"No, what?!"

"No, sir!"

"Wrong! None of that sir crap in this boot camp, boy! For the duration of your stay, you shall address me as master chief master!"

"You-You said that twice…"

"Oh, I did, did I?!"

"Ye-" Lincoln's eyes darted to the side. "No?"

"No, what?!"

"No, master chief master!"

McDarrell took a beat of silence, thinking deeply. "After much deliberation, I am willing to concede that repeating the master part of my official title is indeed confusing and somewhat unnecessary! In fact, leaving out the second master makes it sound even cooler! Master Chief! Yes, I fucking love that! It's the sort of name that's recognizable and synonymous with someone of strong character and fortitude! As such, I feel I am not worthy of such a title and so, you will now address me as Sarge, you pathetic scum! That sounds nice! Do you agree, maggot?!"

"Y-Yes, Sarge!"

Jesus, Lori was never this extreme.

Loona touchingly spoke in Lincoln's defense. "His name isn't maggot! It's Lincoln!"

"Well, excuse me, Furry! In this boot camp, trainees are whatever I say they are! Hell, I've issued each trainee names of my choosing as I don't give a shit enough to remember whatever their mamas gave them upon birthing them from their poon!"

Blitzo hummed. "Never did an army man before."

"Now, report to the mess hall, maggot!"

Lincoln looked around. "Where is it?"

"Find it yourself, dammit! Go, go, go! Hut to it, little imp! Put some pep in yer step ya noodle armed shrimp!"

Lincoln ran quickly if only to preserve his precious eardrums.

"As for you lot of cocksucking bitch-faces!" McDarrell shouted at the rest. "Follow me to my quarters and no dilly-dallying! This here's a dilly-dallying-free zone! But, it's not a smoke-free zone! So smoke away, go and kill those pussy throats that can't handle a little smoke."

"God, I hope this ends in a better lay than Chaz." Blitzo said, biting his lip.

---

At last.

Lincoln succeeded at finding the mess hall.

Running under the intense heat of Wrath's volcanic suns was exhausting, but it was a miracle he hadn't collapsed from heat stroke as of yet. Taking a look inside, Lincoln saw the occupants and as expected, they were mostly imps. What was more telling was how most looked considerably older than he was. Some in their late teens, others nearing young adulthood, really made him feel small.

A fact that a slobbering oafish imp was glad to point out.

"Lookie here, fellers! Some new fucking fresh meat! Or I should say fresh shrimp!" He obnoxiously laughed to himself.

Lincoln was now the center of attention in a den of Wrath-bred imps and they surrounded him to try and size him up and come to their own conclusions about him. "Shit, this kid's shorter than my brother." A stitched scarred and white marked male remarked. His coveralls were unhooked and stained by dirt.

"D'aw! Ah think he's precious, Deucey!" A female imp wearing dark red shorts and black top. "Howdy! Ah'm Mary Loue!"

"H-Hi, I'm Lincoln."

A rowdy buff imp in a blue torn jacket picked him up. "Feh! Looks like we got ourselves some fancy schmancy city boy! Here to make fun of us huckle-fuck low-born boony imps?"

"Hey, put me down!"

"What? I'm barely doin' anything. Yer sorry ass ain't gonna last here if you keep being a whiny little pussy!"

Lincoln clicked his teeth. "Tch! I said, let me go!" He took out his knife and reverse gripped it.

He smacked the blunt end in the bigger guy's face.

"Agh!" Little fucker!" Lincoln landed on his feet after being let go. The disguised human boy kept a firm grip on the knife.

"Ooh, you see that?"

"Little feller's got some balls."

"Fuck, I think Big Moe's actually cryin'!"

Big Moe himself glared angrily at Lincoln.

"Why you punk-ass little…! Ain't nobody does that to me and-!" His raised fist was caught before he could attack Lincoln. "Hey, what the hell?!"

"Trainees. Cease."

The air in the mess hall became tense. Big Moe's breathing hitched when he saw the interloper was not only any of the boot camp's training officers. But it was a tall slim-built yet physically fit imp. An opened long gray sleeveless jacket exposed his scarred bare chest and his single eye bore into the rowdy younger imp. The other eye was useless on account of the eyepatch covering whatever was behind it.

Gun holsters were around his hips and the cowboy beets had sharp rowels.

One side of his white hair was shaved, and the other fully grown.

"Mr. Slye, I-I was just-"

"Taking your seat. Now."

Blunt.

Commanding.

Straight to the point.

There was no trying to fling excuses at this Slye guy.

Big Moe did as he was told and one silent command from him was enough to make the other trainees follow suit.

Next came in their chief instructor.

McDarrell.

"Look alive, you little slugs! Ah see y'all have been acquainted with our newest victim and playmate! Play his cards right and he'll only just be a new playmate!" He slapped his knee, laughing but it was only him. "THAT WAS YOUR CUE TO LAUGH AT MY HILARIOUS JOKE, MAGGOTS!"

The trainees laughed along, but it sounded very forced.

"Funny, sir!"

"Hilarious!"

Even the skinny old janitor joined along by instinct.

"You're so funny, I actually came!"

"Hal, shut the fuck up! Go back to your cleanin! Yer only here because Ma would hassle me if Ah fired you, brother! And stop saying that, Satan damn it! It only gives all those inbred jokes non-Wrath borns make more fuel!"

A trainee whispered to another. "Didn't he also mention his mother having a brother he calls 'uncle paw-paw'?"

"I heard that! That's a baseless rumor!" McDarrell ignored those sensitive talks to go back into drill sergeant mode. "Now, once you've had yer fill of the crap we call grub here, report to the pit at 0400! We're gonna give our fresh recruit a proper boot camp welcome! That'll be all, as you were, pathetic scum!" He shut the door and opened it again. "Also, here on, you will refer to me as Sarge! It has come to my very late realization that my previous title, master chief master, was not in fact, a catchy callsign! Now, I feel like a dumbass for not seeing it sooner! Good day! Mr. Slye, I trust you to take things from here!"

With him gone, Slye kept watch over the trainees, sending a pointed look at Big Moe who stormed away. "Lost my appetite, but this ain't over, city boy!" He pointed at Lincoln.

Lincoln glared back at him even as he walked.

It looks like he really can't go long without coming into conflict in Hell.

And he very much preferred his old non-confrontational approach.

But, these imps weren't giving him a choice.

His time in Boot Camp was meant to remind him that Hell can be unforgiving.

"Shit, pissing off Big Moe on yer first day? Bold!" A lanky tank top male imp commented. "A little stupid, but bold!"

"Thanks, I think?"

Mary Loue took his arm. "Come along! We'll introduce ya ta the rest of the gang, they're just over there!" She sat him down and showed him her merry friends. "This is Cackles. He loves playin' that fork roulette game." A cross-eyed imp was laughing like a mad dog, repeatedly jabbing a fork between his fingers.

"Gyahahahaha!"

"To his right is Jug. That name's not for show, by the way."

Jug drank a barrel of Beelzejuice in under one minute, "Howdy!"

"Then there's, Stink-eye." That guy gave a nasty glare to everybody, even himself. "Hamshanks and his twin, Bubber." The brothers were arm-wrestling. "Qwak, Bets, Hanna, Bethy, Jork…."

While she listed off everyone else, Lincoln looked at the slop that passed for food here.

Suffice to say, he might actually kill for one of his human father's signature Lynn-sagnia right now.

---

The Boot Camp Pit was where trainees held their sparring matches. Two fought each other wielding spear weapons, the ends were sharpened enough to cut the skin. Everyone watching howled, shouting at them to make things more bloody.

"Slice his ass off!"

"Fuck her up! Fuck her up real good!"

"Got 20 souls on the scruffy lookin' one!"

Lincoln flinched when knocked out teeth landed at his feet. It all came to an end when the imp missing those teeth collapsed in a hard thud, limbs twitching. His victorious opponent had her foot on his chest, raising her weapon in the air and basking in all the cheers of her triumph. For the loser, all he got were jeers and mocking laughter.

"Match end!" A trainer imp declared. "Next match shall begin momentarily!"

So, this was something Millie had to go through, her and her family.

The kid was starting to see how she turned out to be such a superb vicious way possible, and he meant that in a nice way.

The woman really made being a natural born killer a nice quality for her.

The question, could he last as long as they have?

After a few seconds, the next match was announced and McDarrell was the one to act as the referee. "Listen up and listen good, dirtbags! We got a special match up! Allow me to introduce the adoptive grandson of our very own Lin, Lincoln!" Shocked and awed whispers emerged in the crowd. There wasn't an imp there who hadn't heard of the Red Hot Fury. "Now, don't go expectin' he'll be every bit the maimer as his grandma! The reason I shared that little info is because she personally asked that her kin be put through our beloved training ground! Any questions?"

"She's a GILF now!"

"That wasn't a question and by Satan's fluffy balls, keep it in your pants, man! Now, who'll be his sparring partner? Better not see any softies just because he's a tot. Now, who'll be the boy's bleedin' buddy for today!"

One imp was happy to take the role.

Lincoln grimaced upon Big Moe stepping up to the center and grinning viciously, cracking his knuckles.

"Oh, terrific." The secret human droned before getting pushed forward by the spectators next to him.

Resigned, Lincoln might as well at least try his best for he had the feeling Wrath imps wouldn't respond kindly to a fight that was refused.

"Don't cry fer yer mama too much when I have you bleeding in the dirty, city boy!" Big Moe spitefully taunted, hoping to get under Lincoln's skin.

He had a big mouth, and Lincoln won't lie, that cruel expression on Big Moe really worked up some punching urges. But, he had to remember the lessons he's learned so far from his adopted imp parents.

Hit 'em hard, but fight smart and don't be afraid to let out some of that inner rage.

Big Moe was the first to make a move.

His fists rained down to crush Lincoln and the boy dodged by stepping to the left. The bigger imp charged at him, but Lincoln's small size worked as an advantage, being nimble and fast enough to avoid getting struck.

Big Moe sent a fist firing at him and Lincoln was ready to dodge.

However, the fist changed its course to finally meet Lincoln's face and the kid skidded across the solid ground. Big Moe snickered nastily at the downed Lincoln, he was assuming that was enough to teach the city imp a lesson.

Lincoln, however, stood up, a little blood leaked from his lower lip and he spat some out.

The mask also changed his human blood color to black.

It couldn't numb the pain, though.

Lincoln put his fists up and glared determined at his opponent and clicked his teeth, but his frustration subsided.

This just meant he could smack the little runt around some more.

Big Moe whistled and a spectator threw him a club weapon and it was especially hard to not get hit by the swings.

The club's impacts left cracks on the ground.

"Oh, come on! How is that fair?!" Lincoln voiced his indignation.

"Haven't you heard?! Fairness is fer pussies!" Big Moe bellowed and spun his club over his head for a left-side swing.

Lincoln had been slightly out of breath due to dodging so much, this last one might be the last one he could make. Even though this was only a spar, Big Moe was fighting for keeps, he truly fought with the intent to harm Lincoln in any way possible.

McDarrell watched evenly, and Slye observed from afar.

The kid was fast, he'll grant him that.

"Come on, squirt, show some actual grit! Yer supposed ta be the oh-so great Lin's grandson, right? Or is her whole family nothin' but a bunch of softies like you? Or al they total psychos like her oldest daughter? She got her ass banned from the pain games, right? Ha! Can't get more pathetic than that!" Lincoln's glare hardened. "What? Did that sting? Just tellin' it like it is. Hell, yer fam's nothin' but old news! Full of nothin' but out of control assholes, especially that tranny who-"

Lincoln couldn't take it anymore.

"RAGH!"

Big Moe was unprepared when Lincoln suddenly leapt at his face and strangely, his red eyes seemed to be glowing. Lincoln latched onto his face and barraged Big Moe's face with several hard punches. Either he had weights hiding or he was much tougher than he looked, because those punches felt like rocks striking his face. Big Moe threw Lincoln on his back and rolled out of another swing. He ran to Big Moe's flank, and kneed him in the rib, the second strike was him elbowing the gut.

Slye raised a brow from his spot.

Not bad.

Big Moe bared his yellow teeth.

With Satan as his witness, he wasn't gonna let this runt show him up.

Once more, he charged for a club attack and shockingly, its movement was blocked. No way did that kid actually hold it back with only his bare hands. Fact is, they didn't. What really blocked the club were two knives Lincoln drew.

Such smaller weapons and both them and Lincoln had the strength to keep the club at bay.

Big Moe still had confidence in himself, because blowhards like him always have a trick up their sleeve.

His tail reached into his back pocket and pulled out a razor needle and flung it at Lincoln's face.

"Ugh!"

Lincoln retracted as he rubbed it off.

An odd woozy feeling came and his vision became blurry. "What did you do?!" He couldn't even stand straight.

"We call that a winning move, boy!"

Big Moe's cackling was accompanied by his tail sweeping under both Lincoln's feet and he tripped over himself. Blinking, Lincoln barely made out Big Moe ready to swing down a final swing to put the runt in his place.

"That's time!"

"Huh?!" Big Moe's wrists were grabbed by McDarrell's.

"Ah think you boys had enough fun! Time for sparing is over!"

"Come on! He's down for the count, Ah gotta finish 'im-HRGK!" McDarrell grabbed his throat in a squeeze, lifting him up.

"Boy, if you wanna get out of Boot Camp alive, you best remember that my word around here is law! Understood!"

"Y-Yes, sarge!" Big Moe saluted despite hardly breathing.

McDarrell dropped him to the floor then went to Lincoln. "As for you, maggot! You call that a fight?! I've seen Wrath cockfights better than that pathetic display! If you're really part of Lin's family, then start acting like it!"

"Yes, sarge."

"No buts, I-pardon?"

"Yes, sarge, I got it." Lincoln said, glaring at the ground, but not throwing a tantrum.

McDarrell didn't expect that.

The crop of trainees that he's seen over the years were all hotshots who thought way too highly of themselves for his liking. Either throw too much pride in their abilities or think they are hot stuff due to family ties.

Not this one.

He didn't win that fight, and he didn't go on and on about how being Lin's grandson permitted him to be treated better. No, he took the defeat while containing whatever dissatisfaction he felt, especially at Big Moe's sneaky dishonorable little move which McDarrell did see. The big bastard thought he was too old to notice.

Even so, technically speaking, this was Lincoln's loss.

"Right. In that case, for losing, the penalty will be inventory detail. That involves sharpening and cleaning."

Surprisingly, Lincoln shrugged. "Good thing Blitz already gave me experience on that."

Weird kid.

Yet, he did show promise.

Something Slye noted, too.

---

"Quick, Joe, hold her down!"

"I'm trying, thespian! Mildred, listen to your pa and don't go tearing that big guy's head off!"

"HE HIT LINCOLN! HE EVEN CHEATED! HE'S FUCKING DEAD!"

"For Satan's sake, sis, calm the fuck down!"

"Mildred, you can't go killin' any of McDarrell's trainees! That's his job if they push him too hard!"

Blizo chimed in for a personal question. "Any other jobs he can do? Just curious. We talking blow? Handy? Foot stuff? I can stuff some oranges in my shirt if he's a tit-jobber."

Lonna smacked the back of her dad's head. "Put it back in your pants! Feels weird saying it, but I'm with Millie. Are we really supposed to sit back and watch some jackass mess with our boy, he's lucky I haven't torn his throat off."

"I'll admit, this may have been more extreme than I expected." Moxxie was apologetic. From the look of things, this boot camp might be the real threat to Lincoln's life than his father, impossible as it may seem.

"Hey, you were the one who said he needed some more advanced training, boy. Too late to second guess." Joe argued. "Honestly, surprised you didn't sign up, too." He then chuckled. "Then again, ya might end up making a fool of yerself like in the last pain games."

Moxxie got a twitchy eye. "The last pain games. Oh, you don't need to remind me, Joe. Just like how you probably don't need to be reminded that on that same day, the farmhand you hired almost killed me and my family, right?" He said, sounding innocent.

Everyone, including a now calmed Millie, froze at the surprise jab from Moxxie.

Joe tried to hide it, but that actually got to him.

"Well, what can I say? Everyone makes mistakes."

"Mistake, huh?" Moxxie feigned curiosity. "Is that what you call it? Considering the stakes at the time, I think the appropriate term is, hm, what do the kids call it? Oh, yes. A fuck up of epic proportions."

"...Shiiiit." Sallie May was actually a little impressed.

Joe turned for a stare down at his son-in-law.

"Boy, you'd best tread carefully, now."

"Or what? You'll keep dragging me down because I'm too soft? Well, too late, I'm used to it too much at this point. You know, all I'm trying to do here is make sure every viable step is taken to ensure my family's safety, so pardon me if I don't use my fists to do the work."

"And just what makes you think I don't understand that, boy?"

"Well if you really did, you wouldn't be questioning me so much."

"How can I not? One of my girls is married to some fancy-ass who ditched where he was born for some cushier life!"

"I was only a few years old at the time! If I had the ability to tell my mother not to go back then, trust me, I would have! I'm just sick and tired of having to prove myself all the time!"

"You wanna prove yourself? Fine, then! Come with me, see if you can stomach going through the grinder and I'm the only company you'll have!"

Huffing, Moxie followed after his grumpy father-in-law.

"Is that supposed to be a punishment for you or me? I can't figure it out!"

Sallie May crossed her arms and shook her head. "Dang, Mills. Here I thought your man was born castrated. I'll give him this much, he's a huge step up from Chaz. Not that the bar was high, mind you."

"So, you knew the old ex, too, huh?" Loona surmised.

Her co-worker's sister blanched. "Unfortunately. If there's one good thing that came out from knowing him, it's how he helped me figure out that I'm all about the ladies~." She said, slyly, brushing her tail against Loona's exposed furry leg.

"Whoa!" Loona's ears perked up, and her cheeks reddened. "Uh, s-slow down there, farmgirl…!" Her own tail slightly waggled.

"Sorry. Can never resist the cute ones~."

Cute?

Only Blitzo ever called her cute.

And that was in a smothering fatherly way.

"Wh-Whatever…." Loona tries to hide being flattered very much in vain.

"Sallie, quit hittin' on our receptionist and help me out here!" Millie implored. "If those rude bullies think they can hurt my baby, they got another thing comin'!"

"Didn't you hear ma? No murders today. Figured city life would've roughed out that nasty little quirk of yours."

"You don't have any kids, Sally! So don't lecture me!"

"Alright, alright. Jeez."

Ugh.

Sallie May was not loving how uptight Millie's been acting ever since she shared the news about her and Moxxie adopting a boy. Lin explained that the joy of motherhood can change a person, but if one were to ask Sallie, she'd much prefer how Millie was before she decided to head out. Some part of her blamed Blitzo for putting such lofty dreams in her head to begin with and the other part blamed herself for not doing more to at least convince Millie to stick around.

Now she has this whole other life away from the family, away from her one and only sister….

Sallie May gave a sigh. "Alright, in that case, I'll go check on the kid. You just work on the temper and text me a photo of Pa ends up killin' Foxxie."

"His name's Moxxie!"

"Whatever…."

Honestly, this feels like the kind of hassle Sallie May wouldn't want any part in.

But, if knowing he's alright will calm down Mallie, then what the hell?

Lincoln was found where he was ordered to go, at the weapons facility. He was twiddling several knives against stones. He had to have been doing this for about an hour yet the kid showed no signs of exhaustion.

Admittedly, the beatdown he was in was more of a challenge.

"Nice widdle work there, slugger."

Lincoln's eyes shot up in surprise. "Aunt Sallie? I was wondering where you were."

"Yeah, me and the fam are being accommodated by old man McDarrell. And if you were wondering about a beastly noise, that'd be Mills. She's really gotten into the whole mama bear role."

"So, that's what it was. Is-Is she okay?"

"Eh, she'll be fine. Just give me the all clear and that'll be enough."

"Oh….well, I'm okay…for the most part…."

"What? Sharpening and cleaning the weapons dragging you down? Don't feel too bad, I for one, think you did a damn fine job." She admired her reflection on a spear's blade. It was clear as day. "Saw that little scuffle you got into in the pit. You went a little crazy for a bit."

Lincoln flushed in slight shame.

"I-He just-He said something really made me angry that's all…."

Sallie May smirked. "Oh? And what exactly did he say to grind your gears?"

"...Well, he started insulting Millie, Lin, and then he-he called you something very wrong." Lincoln hardened a fierce glare.

Sallie May stopped eyeing her reflection in surprise. "Wait, you got pissed for my sake?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, we're family, right?"

Sallie May kept staring at him in apt shock.

Her cordial attitude towards has been mostly to pacify Millie, but now upon seeing an example of why Millie became so taken with the kid enough to consider him her son, it stirred something. As if the role of an aunt was now something she was ready for wholeheartedly, and Satan damn it, this kid and his bashful embarrassed look just tugged at the heartstrings. Her mouth sputtered out an amused laugh. "Pfft-hahahahahaha!"

Lincoln blinked twice. "What? What's so funny?"

He yelped when Sallie May gave him a noogie. "Yer too much, squirt, you know that? Ah can see why Mills loves ya so damn much!"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Despite himself, Lincoln laughed, too.

"Seriously, though, it's no wonder why Millie keeps callin' yo a and I quote, 'precious little miracle' in her letters. Guess that's also a reason why she hardly ever visits anymore. Parenting's a full time job and all that…."

Her sigh of wistfulness was easy for Lincoln to figure out her underlying problems.

"You really miss her, don't you?" He frowned, sympathetic.

"What?" Sallie May realized her blunder. "Shit! That wasn't supposed to be out loud! Why do I always do that? I mean, what are you talking about? She's literally over at the next shack!"

"Yeah, for today." Lincoln pointed out. "But the rest of the time, she's in Imp City. Look, I get it, I have sisters and I have done nothing but miss them while I've been in Hell." He bemoaned, head on his knees, sitting down. "At least you're still able to see yours."

Oh, god.

Was this what guilt felt like?

Man, it was hard to digest.

"I-I guess. I just wish we'd see each other some more is all. It's not like I want her to move back into the farm, I know how much she loves her new life, it can be somethin' simple like-"

"A day out."

"Huh?"

"A sisters' day out!" Lincoln did what he did best, formulating a plan to help out someone during a crisis. "You can be the one visiting! Mom can show you all the great places in Imp City! In fact, she took me and dad to a wicked arcade earlier! I think there was also a nightclub that's perfect for you two, and if you want to just relax, I've actually mapped out great spots that have great views and-"

"Whoa-ho! Slow yer roll there, fella!" Sallie May warmly chuckled. "I mean, how can we even be sure she'd be up to it?"

"Come on, it's Millie. There's nothing she loves more than her family aside from butchering and maiming."

"Don't forget the gouging."

"That, too. She does love some good gouging."

Both shared a laugh and Sallie was certainly starting to not mind having the kid as a nephew.

This whole auntie thing might just turn out fine.

"Well, I'm still not sure, but we'll see." She winked before setting off. "Good luck next time, kiddo! Auntie Sallie'll be rootin' for ya!"

Lincoln smiled and got back to work.

When he was done, he finally took a much needed break. Not wanting to run into Big Moe again, he stepped out of the weapons room to take in the Wrath air. Oddly peaceful for a ring dedicated to violence.

But, he could still detect the murderous intent mixed in the air.

Not only that, but as he closed his eyes, he subconsciously opened his other senses to the area and something….strange happened.

His nose caught the whiff of what smelled like the mess hall food and he wasn't even near there.

Not only that, noises rang in his ears.

A Hell rattlesnake coiled and hissed at a smaller critter.

Its hissing was clear, very clear.

Like, it was right next to him yet was still a distance away.

He detected scents that told him it was his coworkers and the adoptive grandparents and his ears picked up only mutterings. 'Hang on. What's going on….?' He asked in his mind. His senses….they were never this good. "NGH!" He covered his ears in pain and looked at saw that across the field, some imps were doing target practice.

The gunshots sounded like mini-cannons.

He stood up and heard louder things and his eyes glanced everywhere. The boy could barely keep up with all the new noises and smells going through him right now.

Until his ears caught the noise of sharp objects being brandished.

Acting on instinct, Lincoln bent back to avoid getting hit by thrown knives.

"Who's there?!"

"Good reflexes."

It was Slye.

The knives belonged to him.

"You?! Wh-What do you want?!" Lincoln's questions went ignored as Slye recovered his knives.

Slye spun them in his hands and inspected Lincoln. The boy was on his guard, ready for anything. "Tell me, boy. Do you like fighting?"

"Huh?"

SWEEP!

Lincoln ducked when Slye's tail held another knife and swept at him. "Any Wrathian worth his salt will say the same thing! They love spilling blood!" He spun his body around, wielding three knives that Lincoln kept dodging, though parts of his clothes were cut. "Fighting's in our blood is what they say! It's the only thing that makes us imps be more than the hired guns caterin' to the demons above us! That the same for you?! Is that why you fight and struggle?!"

"Stop attacking me and I might-Whoa!"

Slye struck behind his neck.

"Answer me, boy! Why do you fight? For money?"

"I don't even get paid! Ugh!" He got hit in the gut.

"Then, fame? Want everyone to know you're hot shit?"

"People knowing about me down here is the last thing I want-OOF!" A knife's blunt head struck his side.

"Then answer me, already, boy! Why do you fight?!"

The hits kept coming and the frustration grew.

What was he fighting for?

For what reason should Lincoln answer him?

In fact, was it even a question?

To Lincoln, it should be obvious. Reaching a boiling point, Lincoln took Slye by surprise when he grabbed onto his tail tightly. For imps, their tails were a weak spot and Lincoln's impressive grip made Slye tense up and dropped his weapons. Another shock came when a kid Lincoln's size actually threw Slye to the ground. "I'm fighting to survive!" Lincoln roared, pinning him down and raised his knife and it descended down.

Then, it stopped.

Slye didn't flinch nor look away, he was almost accepting of his supposed fate until the knife halted its descent dangerously close to his face.

Lincoln pants his breath shakily, eyes filled in horror at what he was about to do. The knife shook in his hands and barely reacted when his legs got coiled by Slye's tail and slammed into a boulder, groaning at the contact.

"You wanna survive, huh?" Slye dryly chuckled, standing up to look down at the kid. "Then you've got a long way to go. Still, that ain't a bad reason to fight. Survive. Sure as hell a better reason than most dickheads in these parts, so don't go forgettin' it. They focus so much on the superficial shit, they lose sight of everything. Pun, slightly intended." He bitterly laughed, pointing at his eyepatch. He took his leave. "Welcome to boot camp, son. Pray that you'll survive the experience."

Exhausted beyond belief, Lincoln fell on his side. "...Damn it…." He groaned.

His exhaustion prevented him from focusing on his senses picking up something else.

A soft purring-like growl belonging to the hidden creature observing him.

---

Day 2 of Boot Camp.

The barracks had worn out out of shape mattresses, but Lincoln bared with it, until the nasty wake-up call came.

"Up and at 'em, maggots!"

He fell off the mattress he was using and thudded down.

The other trainees yawned and were soon leaving the quarters.

"Ugh…" Lincoln rubbed his sore head.

"Loud, hop to it! This ain't no hotel!"

Outside in the courtyard, Lincoln and all the trainees were doing pushups and just as Lincoln saw when he arrived here, stone slabs were on their backs. Heavy stone slabs that the skinnier imps were crushed under the weight of. Lincoln, on the contrary, kept pushing through despite the vast strain his body suffered. Lynn herself got him to do something similar in one of her toughen up suggestions using a pillow full of rocks.

Additionally, Blitzo always made sure the weapons bag had enough firepower and lugging it around helped him gain a little strength.

McDarrell saw his steady pace and nodded towards an instructor.

The instructor stacked two more slabs and Lincoln's arms trembled, the stress was too much for him and he toppled over.

McDarrell shook his head and went to inspect the others' progress.

Then, he heard Lincoln groaning and before his aged eyes, the disguised boy got back up even though it hurt just by moving. "Again…." He weakly requested.

Huh.

Either he's a glutton for pain or has more grit than expected.

Next activity was practice spear combat.

All trainees wielded training spears paired off with an assigned trainer. Lincoln as per usual, stuck to defense, blocking strikes thrusted at him. The trainer decided to goad him on by lowering his stance. Lincoln launched the spear forward but got parried away and the kid got a blunt end to his gut, followed by getting swept up.

"That's a loss! Go to the bench, boy!" McDarrell barked. The trainer Lincoln sparred against was ready for another opponent.

But the boy she had beaten stood back up.

"Again….!" Lincoln's resolute will was noticed by the others.

Slye observed silently. "Heh…"

Weapons training was up.

Choosing arms that he wasn't accustomed to yet, Lincoln drew an arrow back against the bow string, aiming for the target.

Crossbows were definitely easier to handle.

It was tricky training the arrow just right in his fingers and he fired one shot.

The best he got was only outside the target circles.

Yet, he still persisted.

A few arrows got into the target zone, but couldn't make it dead center.

Lincoln put a bit too much on the next attempt and ended up snapping the arrow string.

"Don't put too much effort into it, boy!" McDarrell snapped. "Those ropes don't come cheap!" It didn't escape his notice that all of Lincoln's arrows still managed to hit the archery target while the other trainees only got one or two arrows in.

Focus needs a little more work, but the kid's aim is true.

More training exercises followed. Running laps while carrying heavy-set Hell pigs, practicing knife-fighting movies through visualising imaginary opponents, balancing on beams very still while exposed to Wrath's heat, and so on. Lincoln went through it all and truly felt the pressure and almost felt like giving up.

But, he didn't.

Meanwhile, a certain pair of male imps went through their own personal challenges.

Joe wanted to see if Moxxie did have the stuff to finally prove he wasn't just a thespian softie and the two tested each other's might through pushing against a giant sack of solidified granite on both sides.

"Give up yet, fancy-pants?"

"You wish!"

They treated it like a valiant contest, but the way they went about it made it look more like two brats in a childish competition.

Joe decided to up things a little.

"Come on, boy! Gonna let those noodle arms drag you down?!" Joe's next challenge was him having mats in his arms for Moxxie to punch with boxing gloves.

"GRR! NGH!" Moxxie sweated bullets as if his body was one of his many firearms.

"Ooh! Not bad there! Don't suppose you're picturing punching my junk, huh?" Joe said in jest.

Little did he know, Moxxie was picturing a different male figure in his life.

The cruel bastard that never once treated him like a real father should.

Joe noticed his tense anger.

He certainly didn't think his son-in-law was able to get that mad.

That night, Lincoln was in the barracks while Moxxie sat outside, looking up at Wrath's sky in deep thought.

They weren't finished.

Not yet.

Lincoln snuck out of the barracks for unsanctioned nightly exercises. An empty course of ramps and ledges were in front of him as he ran through it. He jumped off a ramp onto a high ledge and leapt at a rope to swing down for a roll on the ground.

Moxxie polished up his sharpshooting skills by shooting in the dark.

The sound of three glass bottles breaking after each bullet shot made him smirk in satisfaction.

Day 2, McDarrell started them all in the usual drill of another practice spar against each other. His eyes saw Lincoln evading strikes at him while holding his practice knife in a reverse grip. Something was different about the boy. The way he carried himself was different from yesterday, more driven and his body movements acted in a way that was improved compared to his performance yesterday.

Not surprising, given the extra training the lad put himself through last night.

Lincoln wasn't the only one different.

Joe threw hatchets at flying objects and they shattered. The farm owner smirked, until hearing gunshots. Moxxie held two guns, shooting the targets in the air at a faster pace. Twirling the pistols, he put them back in the holsters. Joe was unimpressed, but Moxxie paid it no mind. "They get the job done, right, Joe?" Moxxie cheekily said.

Despite himself, Joe cracked a chuckle.

He's got him there.

Night 2, as the trainees slept, Lincoln did push-ups on the floor quietly.

Moxxie was putting together a special rifle, it had a razor sharp black colored bayonet and he did practice lunges and such to better familiarize close-up combat.

The following days and nights, father and son pushed themselves past their physical limits in order to make it through Wrath's boot camp. Lincoln ran across tires while carrying a heavy swine, Moxxie used the bayonet rifle to slash a dummy, repeated various stances and moves, relying on their minds to remember each step.

On scorching day, Lincoln kept lapping, running past and out of breath Big Moe, who glared at the kid's back.

As for McDarrell, he hid a grin, taking note of Lincoln's growing progress.

Even Joe couldn't help but silently admit that Moxxie has impressed him, the supposedly softhearted imp kept up in their own little spars.

The two of them were reaching heights neither ever imagined before on account of their aversion to physical work.

It was bitter work.

Work that made their bodies beg them to stop, yet they persisted.

For Moxxie, he had taken words given to him by his adopted son to heart and worked to be proud of his gun knowledge while also adapting it to physical combat. As for Lincoln, he spent night hours going through drills like Millie once suggested. Just lasting long enough in Wrath style training wasn't enough, he needed to rehearse and repeat it all for his body to completely register.

This went on for days to the point where they almost forgot why they came to boot camp to begin with.

As for Blitz, he still tried to get in McDarrell's pants and Loona helped contain an overprotective Millie.

A genuine Wrath boot camp experience.

Similar to nights before, Lincoln stayed out late, having made a campfire without using demon magic.

He was tying up bindings on an arrowpoint, a bow laid next to him.

Then it came.

Once more, his hearing became enhanced and he definitely heard the sound of paws stomping close. Tuning out the other noises and smells was difficult, but he could detect someone or something approaching and in quick time, he had an arrow pulled back against the bow string.

"Who's there?!"

Lincoln steadied his hold on the arrow. This was the same thing that's been stalking him every time he was out at night training by himself.

Whatever it was, he was ready.

He didn't waste all this training for nothing.

Here it comes.

Now or-

"Row-ruff!'

Huh?

Lincoln blinked at the high pitched animalistic sound.

The boy was prepared for whatever savage Hell beast was stalking him, what he wasn't prepared for was what was most likely the cutest little thing he's ever seen.

It looked like a variation of a canine.

Yet, had some feline-esque qualities, too, and some vulpine added to the mix.

It's large ears pointed upwards.

It had bright blue-ish fur and a tuft of purple at the end of its tail. Yellow whiskers were near the nose and the paws were colored yellow. Its beautiful magenta eyes with yellow sclera bored into Lincoln's.

The creature yawned cutely.

"...Huh. Not what I was expecting." The animal walked closer, but Lincoln wasn't letting his guard down. "Whoa, easy there! Just because you look cute, that doesn't mean you're not dangerous! Learned that the hard way after Lola was born."

The animal tilted his head curiously and then….

POOF!

It disappeared in a smokey puff.

Lincoln felt something on his head. "What in Hell?!"

"Mrowf!"

It yelped, perching on Lincoln's hair and laid down like it found a new mat.

"Hey, get off!"

He tried reaching for it, but the critter teleported away again.

"Mrowf! Mrowf!"

It yelped behind Lincoln, wagging its tail.

"How did-whoa!" It teleported above his arms where he caught it and ended up falling on his back. "Ugh…"

"Mrowf!"

The animal yipped cutely, on Lincoln's chest now.

"Okay, you're not dangerous. Just annoying." Lincoln deadpanned. "Kinda reminds me of Cliff when we first got him." He heard grumbling, from the animal to be exact. It bore pleading eyes into his. "What? Are you hungry? I don't really have anything on me." It whimpered, pouring on some more cuteness.

Lincoln didn't know what was worse?

Refusing those eyes or having to face Lana knowing he willingly let an animal starve.

---

"Still think you can go the extra mile, boy?"

"You kidding…? I dare say I've gotten quite the hang of-oof!'

"Sorry, couldn't hear you over your pussying out!

Joe's taunts have gotten less and less tolerable now.

Moxxie's father in-law gave the imp one last task.

Best him in a spar.

Or last longer than Joe expected.

Moxxie was meeting the latter expectation.

"Does it look like I'm giving up?!" Moxie pushes his bayonet against Joe's heavy axe. "If anyone should give up, it's you! Don't you think the whole disapproving father-in-law act has gotten stale at this point?! It's hardly even funny anymore!"

Moxie put a lot of force to push Joe back.

"Come on, with one of my daughters married to a whiner that gets all up in a fuss just when someone talks him down, how can I not give you shit?!" Joe's axe swings were dodged, and had to block bayonet thrusts.

"Oh, well excuse me for having feelings! If all you care about is some blowhard that goes on and on about how hardcore they are, then you must have loved Chaz!"

He made Joe jump after an attempted leg swipe and Joe asked incredulously "You shitting me?! That Satan damned bum broke my Millie's heart! Couldn't stand him!"

"At least you never dated him."

"Yeah, sure am lu-" Joe blanched. "Wait, you dated him, too?!"

Moxxie took advantage of Joe's surprise to leap to him, spinning the bayonet rifle while hissing.

His weapon and Joe's axe made a clang, and Joe fell on his back being pinned Moxxie.

"I've got a long list of bad experiences, Chaz included, and me 'whining' s you put it, is just me trying to make sure my family doesn't experience it themselves!" Moxxie furiously shouted, pushing the bayonet blade down at a shocked Joe's axe. "If you knew what my father put me through, maybe you'd understand why I need to protect them! Why shouldn't I fear for my wife and son's lives when a fucking monster like him who'd kill his son's mother, his own wife, is out there plotting their deaths?!" Moxxie's chest was pounding heavily and his heart raced fast.

It didn't occur until seconds later that he had shouted all that at Joe's face.

The ranch owner and family patriarch stared frozen, letting those words sink in.

Shock.

Horror.

Dismay.

Who wouldn't feel this way after hearing all that?

Moxie stood and backed away slowly.

He didn't mean to let out that much, his annoyance and frustration just reached his peak and that's what came out.

No one else knows what Crimson did.

Heck, not even Millie.

The feeling to vent out his hatred for his father was just hard to ignore compared to past times, not after their reunion not long ago.

Joe got himself up, staring at the running Moxxie, and for the first time, felt actual concern for his son-in-law.

---

During their spat/therapy session, Lincoln and his new animal friend went into the mess hall through the back. "Okay, no one's usually here at this hour, but still, we gotta be careful. Understand?" His furry accomplice scratched behind the ears making him sigh. "Lana was always way better at this than I am."

Lincoln made it to the kitchen and took a pot of the mess hall's concessions.

The animal smelled what was inside and whined in dissatisfaction.

"Mrrrr….!"

"I know, I know. It's no 5 star meal but I've had to put up with it. Although…..maybe…." Lincoln's mind wandered back to Lynn Sr. being a maestro in the Loud House kitchen. His cuisines were works of art and out of all his kids, he only passed on his knowledge to Luan when she took cooking as an elective. However, Lincoln had silently studied his human father's habits and used that to make the sisters their breakfast like eggs and sandwiches.

Hell cuisine wasn't that too different from Earth since recipes from the latter world were taken to the plain for the damned by Sinners.

Without making too much noise, Lincoln went to work making at least a passable dish that was good enough.

His animal friend tilted its head, waiting for its new companion to prepare the meal.

A plate was put down and the smell was more decent than the slop initially offered.

Digging in, the animal purred gently, quickly falling in love with the taste and gobbled down more.

Lincoln smiled. "Guess this is how dad feels whenever his dishes are praised by his customers."

After finishing, the animal chipped happily at the disguised boy, teleporting in front of his face to grab on and lick affectionately.

"Hey, quit it!" Despite himself, Lincoln laughed. His objections did little to stop the animal from continuing to show its thanks. "Alright, alright!" He pried the animal off. "Seriously, you're even more hyper than Charles when we give him leftover bacon." His nose started sniffing up a lot of the animal's scent. "Hey, are you-?" He takes a stronger whiff. "You're…a girl, aren't you? Weird, I don't even have to check, I just know it."

"Maybe you got a little bit of an animal in you that even you don't know about!"

"Aw, Jeez!" Lincoln jumped. "M-Mr. Slye." The Imp instructor was alone at a table, taking slurps of soup. "Uh, what are you doing here?"

"Was gonna ask you the same thing, sonny. Boot Camp staff are allowed to eat here after hours, unlike trainees and wildlife, of course, but that goes without saying."

Lincoln knew he was referring to the animal. "Uh, am I in trouble?"

"Boss man's the one who dishes out the punishment. Just count yerself lucky I don't feel like a rat right now."

"Cool…."

Lincoln didn't know what to say after taking a silent beat.

Slye often acted aloof and distant, even to non-trainees, only acting whenever he wanted to.

Only speaking whenever he wanted to.

"You've gotten better."

"I-I have?" Lincoln asked in surprise.

Slye silently. "For the most part. Guessing yer Ma took care of yer training in the big city?"

"Pretty much, yeah." Lincoln weakly smiled. "Honestly, I almost prefer that than the training here. No offense."

Style hummed. "Hn. Wouldn't be doin' my job if you thought otherwise. I'll give it to you, you lasted longer than I expected. And I don't mean your durability."

"Huh?"

"You still have a good head on your shoulders, boy. And I meant figuratively. Haven't had a rookie's head come off since the dispute of yore. Though, one did lose all four limbs last year. Ironically enough, his name was Stumpy even before them nasty little Wrath beasts took 'em. And then there was the poor son of a bitch who fell into a lava hole south of here. Now the sparring match that went wrong? Now, that was a shit-show. Skin peeled right-"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Lincoln shuddered. "What's your point?"

The imp trainer slurped some more. "My point is, you still got some sense in ya." Slye pointed a spoon at the kid. "To all the other rings, we're just low-born barbaric imps who don't know any other way besides mutilatin'. And granted, we do proudly wear such a description as a badge of honor. Thing is, folks end up owning it way too much, to the point they pretty much believe what's said about 'em. Higher up demon folk have been putting us imps down since Satan let the first of our kind loose after creating them so now, we think the only way for us to live is to act exactly like the lowly riff-raff we're seen as. So, we try to be the killers we're expected to be."

"And that's….a bad thing."

Somberly sighing, Slye continued. "It can be when it gets to the point where a lot of us throw away what makes us who we are at the end of that road. We give up on ourselves, we lose a piece of our souls." He rubbed his eyepatch. "You, though, you're different. You're on your way there while still havin' sense and not ending up as some shithead. This is just me, but I like to think that puts you leagues above the ones that do become shitheads."

Recognition from Slye was something Lincoln ever saw coming.

Impressing anyone wasn't his aim, he just wanted to survive the experience….which was exactly what Slye advised during his surprise attack a few days earlier.

"...I….thanks." Lincoln scratched his head.

Slye put the spoon in the empty bowl. "Welp. I'm hittin' the hay. Lock up when you're done playin' top chek, will ya?"

When he left, the animal was now nudging Lincoln's leg. "Mrowf! Mrowf!"

"Oh, sorry. Want me to make more, girl?" Lincoln asked.

She shook her head, gesturing to him to follow her running outside.

He saw her reach all the way to McDarrell's quarters, making him curiouser.

What could she want with the sarge?

It's not like-

"Whoa…."

Lincoln's breath was let out once the boy saw the state of McDarrell's quarters.

It was completely ransacked. The spinning chair was thrown over, paperwork spilled out on the floor, potted cactus plants broken. The only window in the room was broken, evident that someone forced their way inside. It scared Lincoln a little to think about who'd be able to overpower the sarge since he was missing.

"Mrowf! Mrowf!"

The animal pointed her nose at muddy footprints.

A good first clue.

Lincoln also sensed something.

Killing intent.

An extreme case at that.

Not uncommon in the Wrath Ring, but this stood out and got Lincoln feel the need to investigate further and he followed the animal to behind some rocks and what they saw made the disguised boy gasp.

McDarrellin chains and looks sluggish, like he wasn't all there.

"You miserable fucking assholeshhh…! I have half mind to-to-to…fuck, what's the think you do when I insert foot onto ass? Shit, what the hell is even happening….?" McDarrell slurred.

"Damn. The old man is really out of it."

"What in Satan's bowels did you slip into his meal, Big Moe?"

Big Moe.

The fat bastard and his flunkies proved to be plenty brazen already but to evidently capture the drill sergeant for whatever reason. Obviously, Big Moe was more than just the camp bully who antagonized any that made him mad.

"Shit that can make a hundred ton wrath hog lifted." Big Moe chuckled. He grabbed the woozy drill sergeant's cheeks to make him stare eye-to-eye. "You alright there, sarge? Couldn't listen to ya, you said somethin' 'bout fucking me up? Ha! I'd just love to see you try, old man! You have no idea how long I've waited to put a washed up fossil like you in yer place! Thinking you could just push me around, barking out orders like I was just another whipping imp! I only signed up here to make your little trainin' my bitch! You're lookin' at the future of Wrath, fucker! And it's time to prove it"

He held out his hand in front of a flunky.

The flunky stared at the hand and slapped it.

"You did a good job, too, Moe!"

Glaring, Big Moe slapped his head in return. "Give me the Satan damn crowbar, ya numb-nuts! Shit!"

Raising the weapon up, Big Moe was ready to bash McDarrell's face in.

Until Lincoln's new animal friend teleported behind Big Moe's nape and bit hard into it. "AGH! What the fuck?! Get it off!"

His lackeys tried…..and only succeeded in hitting Big Moe.

The animal was too squirrelly to get hit, so Big Moe got all the shots meant for her.

"You dumb fucks! Hit the little varmint! Not me!"

The animal hopped off and the critter teleported each time Big Moe's lackey shot at her. She appeared on top of a slim imp's head and poofed away before she could get hit. Instead, the flunkies shot bullets through each other's heads.

Big Moe heard a whistle and he looked up.

A sizable rock hit him in the eyes.

"Son of a-!" Lincoln, who had thrown the rock, leapt over, and held two knives in reverse grip. "You!" Big Moe glared through his hurt eyes.

"Yeah, me." Lincoln repeated, tightening his grips on the knives.

"This day just keeps gettin' better! All of you, kill his little bitch ass!"

Jumping up high, Lincoln avoided a hatchet swing and flipped forward a kick down to the imp's head hard to knock him chin-first down.

A taller imp grabbed under his arms and hoisted him up.

The animal teleported again and bit the captor's shin to force him to free Lincoln. Running ahead, Lincoln ducked, leapt, and rolled to evade each attack targeted at him. Thrusting his arms forward, his reverse grip knives slashed across the chests of enemy imps, deep enough to incapacitate them.

Another flunky failed to slice him up and fired off rounds that Lincoln sidestepped to dodge then stabbed the knives through his arms. "ARGH!" The imp yelled. Pulling them out, Lincoln let out a growling grunt, gashing the knees next. "Fucking little…gah…!"

"Move out of the way!" Big Moe pushes himself forward. "I want to take the little fucker's head off myself!"

Lincoln and Big Moe ran towards the other.

The boy jumped for an elbow to his right rib, then a left kick to the back of the leg to make Big Moe lose his footing.

Big Moe grabbed Lincoln's arm and thrashed him to the side of a boulder.

Lincoln rolled out before getting hit by Big Moe's ramming metal club.

The boy pushed himself for a dropkick to Big moe's face with enough force to swell it up.

He was pretty sure the bigger imp lost a few teeth, too.

The other flunkies tried to go and hold Lincoln down, but he ducked under a fist and wormed to the imp's back, holding him in a tight hold. Lincoln wrestled control of the imp's hand which wielded a gun and fired off rounds at the imp's allies, primarily in the shoulders.

These men were not dead.

But, they certainly weren't fighting any further.

"Hey, big guy!" Lincoln shouted to Big Moe. "You want me?! Then, come get me!"

Seeing him run, Big Moe bared his growling teeth.

"You limpy dicks guard the old man! I'll come with that kid's spine hanging off my shoulder!"

Once he took off, the animal followed after to aid Lincoln, her new friend.

The flunkies that weren't injured looked at their groaning comrades. "Fuck, tough luck for you guys." One chuckled. Until. "GUGH!" He was shot through the forehead. Moxxie stood atop a rock, holding a smoking revolver.

He narrowed his eyes. "Howdy."

Jumping into the air, he unloaded more bullets that sniped through eyes, heads, and throats.

Laning on a taller imp's shoulders, he shot through that guy's own ears, becoming literally mindless.

A blade wielding imp went for a decapitating swipe, until garden forks protruded out of his face.

None other than Joe reeled the forked rake out from the back of his victim's head and then impaled it through an imp's gut, impaling him to the rocky wall. Moxxie tackled a sneaky imp before he could shoot at his father-in-law.

Before Joe's impressed eyes, Moxxie double pistol whipped his attempted attacker's face into mushy pulp.

Returning in kind, Joe vaulted his forked rake through another's head that was just about to attack Moxxie.

The thespian and the farmer shared a look.

And nodded.

Not many words were shared between the male imps.

At least, not right now.

"Looks like our boy did a hell of a job." Joe observed the now fearful injured lackeys.

"Of course he did. He's my son, after all." Moxxie replied coyly.

Joe stifled a chuckle.

---

Their boy kept running a good distance away with Big Moe giving chase to prevent Lincoln from warning everyone else. Lincoln expected this, but didn't mind, he was actually willing to handle the large imp by himself.

"Ain't nowhere you can run to that'll protect you from me, boy!"

Big Moe's shouts were coming closer.

A fight was sure to break out, but it was much sooner than Lincoln wanted it.

"Mrowf!"

There it was, the animal critter he recently befriended, teleporting next to him.

"Oh, hey! Might wanna get out of here, girl!" The animal shook her head. "Listen, I appreciate the backup back there, but this is pretty dangerous and frankly, I'd-"

His animal friend jumped into his arms and teleported them both into a weapons shed.

"Mrowf!" Her tail was wagging.

"...On second thought, I think I'd like some assistance."

Outside, Big Moe searched for his hated foe.

No way he gave him the slip, not before he could make mince meat out of the little nuisance.

The sound of rattling inside the weapons shed made big Moe kick down the door to look for Linxoln. "Where you at, bitch?! Where you at?!" Another Lincoln whistle and a fired arrow flies close to Big Moe's face. The tip grazed his cheek and was pinned to the wall, Big Moe looked around, but couldn't find the boy. "GAH!" Another arrow skidded across his shoulder.

Then another.

And another.

Each time an arrow flew, there was a POOF sound accompanying it.

"Son of a-! I ain't playing' games here, shorty!"

"But, I'm having so much fun." Lincoln's voice was everywhere. "So let me take a guess on what your master plan was. Kill the sarge and stand on top? Was that it? I'll grant you, it's bold. Although, I can't really see everyone treating you like the new big man since you only drugged the sarge."

"Shut your mouth! Where are you?!"

"Closer than you think…."

Big Moe looked around frantically and Lincoln, out of nowhere, was jumping and punched Big Moe right in the face.

POOF!

There's that sound again.

And Lincoln was gone from Big Moe's sight, what he could see was the ceiling after falling off his feet after getting punched.

The kid really was stronger than he looked.

Which further enraged Big Moe.

Roaring, Big More threw over tables, smashing aside any place Lincoln could be using as a hiding place. His commotion ended up causing the exact outcome he was hoping to avoid, the occupants in the barracks were stirred awake.

"Get out here! Get the fuck out here and show yourself, you worthless little shit! UGH!"

Lincoln appeared again and jump-axle kicked his shoulder fiercely, knocking him into littered sharp weapons which stabbed into his side. Lincoln landed down as his animal friend teleported beside him. "Here I am!"

Lincoln fired another arrow and this time, Big Moe dodged it.

Big Moe rushed ahead as Lincoln kept side-stepping and shooting more arrows at the same time. The larger imp's tail snatched away the bow and then slammed his broad shoulder against the short kid. Lincoln shouted when his back collided to the wall, and didn't have time to collect himself after getting grabbed by the arms and thrashed on the ground. Big Moe paid back the blows to the face by socking the kid across with enough force to make the lower lip bleed a lot.

"Huh?! How's that, boy!" Big Moe kept pouring on more blows to the face.

Lincoln saw nothing but red after feeling liquid over his right eye.

The pain roared at his body like a thunderstorm.

Big Moe wanted him to suffer before killing him.

And the pain was excruciating.

The whole training regimen he's spent so far has been the same.

Nothing but pain….and so, he's become accustomed to it.

It can be said he's welcomed to it at this point.

"Ghh…! Sh…! Ngh! Ugh….!"

Snickering, Big Moe reared back one last fist. "What was that?! Couldn't hear ya!"

Away the fist went….and got caught by Lincoln's hand to Big Moe's abrupt shock.

Breathing heavily, Lincoln's bruised eyes slightly opened.

"Shut. The. Fuck. UP!"

Lincoln's face twisted into a scornful scowl and headbutted against Big Moe's nose.

"AGH!" The nose made an audible crunching nose and black blood flowed out. Lincoln now free of his onslaught. Crouching on the floor, his eyes take on a faint red color, he was aware of it and this time, didn't object!

He didn't want to kill Big Moe, he just wanted to beat his sorry ass and be done with this bull!

Whether he was aware of it or not, Lincoln's body was enveloped in an orange aura before his whole body glowed dark orange and he became an orange colored blurr, making a high blinking sound.

From the animal's perspective, he moved like an orange flash without taking a step.

His fist radiated the black fire he once conjured at the crashed wedding and he punched it against Big Moe's right cheek. The larger imp felt it burning and rocketed against a large shelf of weapons.

"Wha-What in Satan's wings are you?!" Big Moe shouted.

"Mrowf!"

The animal appeared next to the shelf and with one little push of its head, the shelf came tumbling down on top of him, the bladed weapons embedded themselves all over his body, ensuring that he wouldn't live to hear the answer.

A large pool of black blood formed slowly below his now lifeless body.

"Timber." Lincoln remarked, coughing up some blood,

"Mrowf!"

The animal nuzzled against Lincoln, making him rub her fuzzy head. Holding his side, Lincoln weakly exited the shed.

But waiting for him were more of Big Moe's lackeys.

They woke up before the others, having known about their leader's plans and heard his grunting noises.

"Hey, where's Big M?!"

"You little bastard! Tell us where he is or else we'll-"

"DO FUCKING NOTHING!"

Lincoln knew that deep demonic voice anywhere.

Mama Millie's patience wore itself thin.

She tackled them and they were all ripped asunder by a weaponless pissed off Millie.

"Linc!" Loona came, too and fretted over her worn out little friend. "What the hell happened?!"

Not only were his coworkers awake but Lin, Blitzo, and the other residents of Boot Camp came out.

Moxxie and Joe eventually joined, having hogtied Big Moe's lackeys who were still alive.

Sighing, Lincoln shrugged helplessly.

In Wrath, especially in Boot Camp, it was common tradition for a young warrior's success in battle, that there would be a special little celebration. The very next morning, everyone gathered at the mess hall as instructors played violins and guitars and trainees danced with each other. Lincoln and his family were at a table, and they were joined by McDarrell who finally recovered from being drugged.

Something Lin was not letting him live down anytime soon.

"Of all things, ya let yourself get roofied! You really are gettin' up there in your years, old man!"

"Ah, quit it already, woman! You're just pissed you didn't get in on the action! There goes your chance to show your little tot why you were one of the best we ever had!"

Lin dismissed his retort. "There's always another day. Besides, this ain't 'bout me! It's 'bout my little trooper here!" She giggled, cuddling her adopted grandson. "Ooh, I knew you had it in you, honey pie! If only your uncles were here!"

"How you feeling, intern?" Blitzo asked, taking a swig of a Wrath ale. "That Moe asshole really put you through it, didn't he?"

Lincoln's body had bandages, patches, and wrappings. "After the days I spent here, let me say this, he hits like a pussy." A bowl was slid over to him. Courtesy of Slye who gave the kid a two-finger salute.

The kid did alright.

Sallie May heartedly laughed and one-armed hugged him. "Well, damn! Looks like I better go through another bout of boot camp myself! Don't wanna get shown up by my badass little nephew!" She let out a yelp when Lincoln's animal friend teleported onto the table to gobble down on some grub. "What did you say this thing was, again? Never seen a Wrath beast quite like it."

"Not sure, but she sure helped me out." Lincoln scratched the critter's back, to her purring delight. "As far as I can tell, she was all alone out here….." Alone in Hell, not something he'd wish for anyone. In some ways, she also reminded him of Charles and Cliff. "Hey, Moxxie?"

Moxxie knew what he was thinking. "Can you handle it?"

"Huh?"

"If you want to take care of it, then you'll have to handle the responsibility. So I ask again, can you handle it?"

"Y-Yes!" Lincoln answered resolutely.

Moxxie hummed, smiling. "Well alright, you can keep her."

Blitzo spat out food at him. "I'm sorry, what?!"

"Aw~! Baby's first Wrath pet!" Millie gushed. "Ma, Sal, get a camera!"

"Hang on-"

"Make sure it keeps its shits out of my space and I'm cool with it." Loona smirked.

"Hello? Don't I get a say-"

Blitzo got ignored again.

"Got a name for the critter, sonny?" Joe asked.

"Hm…." He remembered how she tipped the weapon shelf earlier. "Timber. Her name is Timber. Welcome to the family, Timber." Lincoln laughed when she started licking him again.

Blitzo grabbed his horns. "No, no, no! Don't name it! Fuck! When the kid wants some mangy stray, it's all dandy! But when I wanted to invest all our funds in an entire horse stable, it's all 'Oh, Blitz! That's not a good business model!' That's complete bullshit!"

A boy should have a pet.

And Moxxie wasn't gonna be anything like Crimson and deny Lincoln such a luxury. The thespian saw Joe looking at him and either he was high or his father-in-law actually raised a cup at Moxxie, giving him a nod.

If Crimson was gonna send more threats to him, then Moxxie will take heart knowing he has a good support tough enough to handle it.

That support?

His family.

His true family.