At four years old, Lincoln Loud was a beacon of kindness in his bustling household. Every day brought new moments of affection, but nothing compared to the tender bond he shared with his baby sister, Lucy, who was just one. In the middle of all the noise and chaos of the Loud House, young Lincoln always found time to wrap his little sister in warm hugs. His gentle nature and caring personality captured the hearts of his older sisters, who marveled at how even a small boy could display such empathy and love.
Unbeknownst to the family, far away in a forgotten tower, an old and feeble warlock was searching for a way to reclaim his lost youth and full powers. For years, he had relied on a dwindling supply of youth potions to remain as lively as his memories, but now his stock was nearly depleted. In the dark corners of his study, the warlock peered into a mystical crystal ball, his eyes scanning for a spark of pure, radiant energy—one that could restore him. It was said that the purest heated soul could imbue magic like no other, and fate had a plan unfolding that even the warlock could not ignore.
One ordinary morning, while the warlock was sifting through the swirling mists of his enchanted sphere, he caught sight of a small scene that stopped him in his tracks. There, in the living room of the Loud House, he saw four-year-old Lincoln tenderly embracing baby Lucy. The boy's heart seemed to glow with a golden warmth, a light so pure and vibrant that it outshone even the dimmest ember of magic the warlock had ever witnessed. In that single, heartwarming moment, the warlock sensed a power within Lincoln that far surpassed the mundane affections of everyday life.
Realizing the immense potential of this glowing heart, the warlock made a quiet decision. He resolved to wait patiently for the boy to grow older, for the love that enveloped Lincoln would only grow stronger with time, feeding the inner spark that was so rare and valuable. To preserve his own strength during the long wait, he chose to enter a state of cryogenic slumber. By pausing his aging and conserving his remaining energy, the warlock could bide his time until the moment arrived when Lincoln's heart would reach its full potential.
As Lincoln played with and cared for his baby sister, adored by his older siblings, the warlock remained dormant in his frozen state—a silent observer of the unfolding life within the Loud household. His crystal ball would occasionally flicker with glimpses of the boy's laughter, his gentle gestures, and the deepening bond he shared with his family. Even in his slumber, the warlock's plans were intertwined with the vibrant energy that pulsed through that bustling home.
Eight years later, Lincoln Loud now has four more younger sisters, bringing the total to ten. As chaotic and diverse as they were, each one held a special place in his heart. Despite the constant noise and madness that came with life in such a crowded house, Lincoln wouldn't trade it for anything.
This week, Lincoln had made plans with each of his sisters. From playing tennis with Lynn Jr., to helping Leni in her fashion show, to going to the cemetery with Lucy — it was a week to celebrate his bond with each of them.
One night, after a particularly eventful day of helping Lola prepare for a pageant and getting dirty in the yard with Lana, Lincoln fell into a deep sleep. His dreams usually consisted of comic book adventures or silly scenarios, but that night was different.
Lincoln's dreamscape shifted, and he found himself standing in an unfamiliar place. The sky above was stormy and twisted, streaks of dark clouds veiling the moon. The air felt cold, heavy, pressing against his chest.
"Where... am I?" Lincoln muttered, glancing around.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows—a tall, cloaked man with piercing, gleaming eyes. His cloak trailed the ground, adorned with strange, shifting symbols that glowed faintly.
"Ah, young Lincoln Loud," the stranger spoke, his voice echoing with an unsettling resonance. "I've been waiting for this moment."
Lincoln's throat felt dry, a creeping sense of dread curling in his gut. "W-Who are you? What's going on?"
"I am Korde, a warlock of power and purpose," the figure declared. "And I have my sights set on you, young one."
"Why me?" Lincoln stammered, stepping back. "What do you want?"
Korde's eyes glimmered as he smiled, a wicked grin stretching across his face. "Your heart, Lincoln. I require a pure heart of a selfless soul in order to become young and powerful once more. I need its power."
Lincoln instinctively placed a trembling hand on his chest, his heartbeat quickening. "This... this is just a dream. You're not real!"
"Foolish boy," Korde hissed, lifting his hand. "This is no mere dream. This is a warning of what is to come."
Suddenly, a sharp pain pierced Lincoln's chest. He fell to his knees as a searing light glowed from within. His breath shuddered, his entire body trembling as a surge of energy began to flow out of him, drawn into Korde's open, waiting hand. The warlock's eyes glimmered with satisfaction as he absorbed the golden energy.
"When the time comes, Lincoln, you will be taken from your precious sisters," Korde sneered. "And there will be no one to save you."
The coldness in Korde's voice sank into Lincoln's bones. The pain intensified, a searing burn at the core of his being. Tears stung his eyes as the world around him began to blur.
"No... Please, stop!" Lincoln cried out, desperation in his voice.
Korde's chilling laughter echoed through the darkness as everything faded away.
Lincoln's eyes snapped open, his room drenched in the shadows of the early morning. His heart was pounding, his hands clammy as they clutched his chest, the lingering pain still echoing from the nightmare.
"It was just a dream," he whispered to himself. "Just a dream... right?"
But the dread remained, heavy and unyielding. The vision of Korde's menacing grin and the ominous warning lingered. What if it wasn't just a dream? What if Korde really was out there, waiting to steal his heart — to tear him away from his sisters?
Before he could let the fear consume him, Lincoln slipped out of his bed and padded down the hall to Lynn and Lucy's shared room. Pushing the door open quietly, he saw Lynn sprawled across her bed, one leg dangling off the edge, and Lucy sitting by the window, her gaze lost in the night.
"L-Lucy? Lynn?" Lincoln's voice was a shaky whisper.
Lucy glanced at him, her dark eyes glimmering with curiosity. "Lincoln? What's wrong? Are you haunted by something?"
Lynn stirred, stretching with a groggy yawn. "What's up, Linc? It's, like, two in the morning."
Lincoln hesitated, the nightmare still fresh in his mind. "I... I had a really bad nightmare. There was this warlock... Korde. He said he wanted my heart. That he'd take me away from all of you, and I'd never see you all again."
Lynn's grip on his shoulder tightened reassuringly. "Listen, Linc, it was just a nightmare, okay? Even if some creepy warlock tried to take your heart, he'd have to get through me first. No way I'd let anyone mess with my little bro!"
Lucy added softly, her voice steady, "Lincoln, you are loved by all of us. If anyone tried to harm you, they would face all of us — ten sisters can be quite fearsome, you know."
Lincoln nodded, his smile a little stronger. He crawled into Lucy's bed, and Lucy settled beside him, her presence calm and steady. As Lynn flopped back onto her bed, muttering a sleepy "night, Linc," the lingering fear began to fade. Surrounded by his sisters, Lincoln felt safe.
Meanwhile, in a secret lair not far from Royal Woods, a crystal ball glowed with an ethereal light. Korde's gaze was locked on the image of Lincoln's peacefully sleeping face.
"He believes the warning," Korde muttered with a smirk. "This will be an amusing challenge."
His eyes flickered with a dark hunger as he watched the young boy. "Your sisters may try, Lincoln Loud, but they cannot protect you forever. When I claim your essence, I will be back at my full power, and this world shall fall at my feet."