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Chapter 31 - Chapter 31 [Arc 4]

He felt as if he was almost floating, there was a lack of feeling in all of his limbs, feeling disconnected from his body. [Name] looked around, his surroundings, making awkward eye contact with Lucian.

Lucian stared at his Host, he pondered on the reports for a good while, zoning out whilst staring at [Name]. It seemed inevitable, but what was he to do with this information. How was his current Host any different than the previous ones?

"Are you alright, Lucian?"

"I am well. The punishment protocol has been activated and the duration will last for your next two worlds. It can turn on at any moment, so I suggest that the Host stays alert as this protocol can damage your progression in the world."

[Name] nodded, "What will my next world be like?"

"Fantasy of sorts, but it is in a modern setting. Something along those lines."

"Oh, thank you. Is there any skills that I would need?"

"For this world no. If you try to keep out of the cafés and the gyms."

"Oh? Why?"

"Find out yourself. Do you want to progress through to the next world?"

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[Name] woke up to the feeling of sand on his back, the sun beating down on his front, scorching his eyes. Groaning he squeezed his eyes shut and then slowly got up, moving into a sitting position. The sound of seagulls shrieking and the lulling sound of waves gently crashing against the shore, pooling around his feet.

Putting his hand over his face he winced, a harsh ringing in his ears. Getting up, and finally opening his eyes, nothing was surrounding him apart from sand and boulders on his left and fine sand stretching for a long while. There seemed to be no one present; struggling to get up [Name] stumbled further away from the shore, and then he was looking over a few roads, that were going around a roundabout.

The wind blew harshly, chilling [Name] as he was only in a pair of shorts and a flimsy t-shirt.

'Lucian?'

'Information?'

'Yes, please. I am very confuzzled.'

[Name] braced himself for the oncoming headache.

'Elliot was the only child of the Balliol family, the mother, Betty Balliol (nee Saunders) married to Clarence Balliol. They were an average family who lived in the seaside town of Blackburn, later moving to Brisgon, another seaside town half an hour away; everything had changed when Elliot's mother passed away, and his father had sunk into a deep depression. Elliot himself had become more closed off to his peers, consequently making him more isolated, leading to rumours being spread about him. Elliot and his father then moved to Brisgon where Elliot became more isolated. Due to the lack of friends he ended up trying to end his life. Your mission is to try and change Elliot's fate, so he can live a satisfactory life.'

'Isn't he dead?'

'No, the soul is still alive. In hibernation of sorts.'

'Oh, alright. You guys have a weird system.'

Leaving [Name] to where he is now, disorientated and on the beach. Soaked to the skin.

A map appeared in front of his face and a blinking dot appeared, signalling that that is where [Name] should be going. Slowly walking down the small hill and onto the pavement, [Name] walked briskly, trying to get himself to warm up and just get a new change of clothes. On his walk, he had passed numerous pedestrians who all gave him judging once over.

[Name] greeted his, 'dad' and headed upstairs when he finally got into the shower and started going through the motions of his seemingly normal life again. As normal as it could be, but was did slightly throw [Name] off was the fact that it seemed so eerily similar to his original world, but even those memories seemed hazy now. Seemingly as if eternity had passed, desperately, he tried to remember what life was like before he started this journey.

With the rising panic building in his chest, he stumbled into his room. Hand-pressed tightly against his temple, he flopped onto his single bed. Even the bed was the same size; a wave of nostalgia crashed over him. Tears pricking his eyes, [Name] rolled over and fell asleep.

________________________________________________________________________________________

Clarence looked out of the window quietly from the living room, the home was quiet. The house has been a sombre setting ever since the passing of Betty, his dear wife, it had hit both him and his son quite hard.

Walking over to the coffee table that sat in front of one of the sofas, on top of it was a picture, polished and clean, differing from the rest of the house that had a sort of staleness to it, almost as if silence personified, filling every nook and cranny with a sense of loss apart from this one picture. Some things in the home had a fine film of dust on it.

The picture captured the moment of a happy couple, beaming into the camera, giving the viewer a picture of pure joy. The picture itself, even in the frame, was yellowed at the edges from being touched often, but apart from that it was perfectly preserved. Clarence continues to stare at the picture, his heart crying at the loss of his beloved wife.

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