A gentle knocking on my door snaps Luke out of his daze as he completes his homework; the soft voice that greets him is one he recognizes to be his mother. Her voice was wobbly, as if she'd been weeping as she uttered the words, "L-Luke, w-we...we have to talk to you..." Brenda, his mother, was stuttering as she mumbled these words, only causing the young brunet concern as he rushed to the door and opened it. It seemed as if his assumption had been correct; tears streaked her rosy cheeks, and she was sniffling, still sobbing softly into her hands.
Luke's eyes widen slightly; what could possibly cause her to become so miserable? What did she need to talk to him about? Certainly, it must have been important—there was no other reason to interrupt the child in his studies, and his parents would avoid doing so as often as possible...
Then, what could this 'talk' possibly be about? Would it concern his activities with the professor, or perhaps the topic was about the move...
Various feasibilities raced through his mind at incomprehensible speeds, only causing the young brunet further worry as he creaked open his door a bit more, allowing his parents access into his slightly sloppy room with various objects and puzzle pieces scattered across the carpet. Luke's father sat beside Brenda on the boy's bed, to Luke's internal dismay, and wrapped an arm around his mother's shoulders, looking at his son with a grim expression.
"Luke, you remember Clive, don't you...?"
Clive; that name brought along many memories to the duckette's fragile mind, and now caused the commotion within him to grow to new levels—he'd been imprisoned for his misdeeds and his misguided justice, hadn't he...? So, why was he being mentioned now...? Had he escaped!? Or, perhaps even...
Luke didn't even want to finish that last inquiry.
"You see, Luke, his...his time is..." his father chokes on his words, an extremely rare occurrence, startling the younger brunet even further. "...Clive's time is extremely short, Luke, and he-"
"Wh-what do you mean his time is running short!?" Luke interrupts, which was exceptionally out of character for the young gentleman-in-training, but he honestly didn't care at this point; if his time was running short, that only meant one thing, but why...?
How could a young man's time already be running short?
"...Luke, Clive is going to be...punished for his sins tomorrow."
Punished...?
Th-that meant...!
"H-he's going to be executed!?" N-no! That...that couldn't be possible, could it? It was exceedingly tough concept for such a young boy—it didn't seem fair, it wasn't just, no matter how the child looked at it...yes, Clive had attempted to decimate London...
But he'd failed, at least, hadn't he!? He wanted to atone for his crimes, right? A-And that was exactly what he was doing! H-he had potential, just as every human being, and he was much saner now! Luke had seen this for himself—no longer was his "future self" focused on revenge or that so-called justice of his!
...So, why were they going to kill him? Why would they murder a man that was beginning to achieve his sanity once more?
"...Yes, Luke. Don't seem so shocked; he's committed too many felonies to be accepted in society now."
...No...
"And...he's requested for you, Luke. He said he wanted to see you before...before his time was up."
M-me...? Why me!?
"I realize that...that it's a difficult decision for you. If you make your decision, we'll take you out of school tomorrow to say your goodbyes. Sound like a deal...?" he asks gently, a wry smile forming on his elderly features as he reaches out a hand to the now teary-eyed Luke.
With a silent gulp, his limbs beginning to tremble, he wearily takes his father's hand, confirming their 'deal'.