"Better get going Six, they're gonna need you down there... listen, Reach has been good to me, time has come to return the favor... don't deny me this…"

Luck - Halo 3

There was a quiet field. Soft, untouched grass laid within a still forest. Trees all around encircled the field, with its thick tree line. These beautiful trees had perfect jaded tops that gave a cool cover of shade on a warm day. Today in particular was not hot, or cold, but just perfect. It sure had been a hot year, but today was one of those days.

In the giant forest wind gently whistled through the tops of these evergreens. A luscious world filled with green was truly a sight to behold.

To add even more, the sun itself reflected off the mountains in the far distance, giving them a silver glow. With their mighty faces, they are filled with rocks and stones covered their snow-capped tops. Forming a beautiful mountain range.

Naboo was always peaceful this time of year, specifically Theed. The tan buildings along with their green roofs glistened in the midday sun. It wasn't scorching like it would be Tatooine. Instead it was tepid with a slight comfortable breeze. The city itself was very industrialized, with ships and very active spaceports. One could see every ten minutes or so, of a ship leaving or entering. Naboo as a whole was a peaceful world. It's people are friendly, calm and contemptuous.

But not today. Not on this day.

The people of Theed could only watch as the sky itself was torn asunder. A giant blue sphere the size of the city itself appeared off in the distance. It seemed three-dimensional but at the same time it wasn't.

High in the air, this purple hole created a loud boom that rippled around like a volcanic eruption. The shockwave that was created went around and broke many glass windows. But inside of it, the blue outlines had something else... ship parts.

Shrapnel and debris ripped through and out of the hole. Flaming wreckage engulfed the sky and everyone's attention. They observed dreadfully as it began to rain metal. Fireballs of straight ship parts descended below, crashing into the eastern swampy grounds of Lianorm. The largest of the debris, the size of a skyscraper fell slowly, plunging to its end. This carcass of a Covenant Supercarrier that was ripped in two dazzled all who watched in Theed. Its design or structure was that no one has ever seen. And it was crashing downward through the air.

Fire encased around it and the other falling debris as it entered Naboo's atmosphere. The once proud and benevolent Long Night of Solace, is now collapsing into its doom.

Smoky trails left behind in the hazy wake, covering the sun a bit. This turned the sun from a bright warm yellow to a soft orange.

The giant structure of the ship landed with a crash so loud, it could have been heard for miles. Even with it shoved into the swamp, it left the largest of the trails, showing were it came from in the heavens. Fumes of storms with smoke and dirt were sent high into the air. This created a wall of clutter and chaff. Taller than the entire swamp and forest, the cloud covered the entire area.

At the very center of the chaos, everyone turned to the giant purple sphere. This Black Hole seemed to defy all laws of physics and motion, as it just stayed there. That was until it shrunk.

It went from the size of a city, too much smaller. Losing its mass, it began to change color. From a dark purple to a light blue, then to a dark red. Then finally to bright pink. It was shrinking at a fast rate that seemed impossible.

Once it got to the size of a football field, it disappeared. Leaving shrivels and wakes in its departure. The air where this Black Hole once was seemed to be a translucent texture, leaving strange streams of pink energy.

Many people in Theed panicked, most were confused, but everyone was awed. Nevertheless, everyone wanted to know what this debris or falling metal was.

Amongst the chaos, deep into the swamp, was a purple platform. Around it was many other flaming debris and disorder within the area. Sunk and covered in swampy mud, these hexagonal patterns of covenant walls lied deep in the gunk. It was surrounded by chunks of the destroyed Covenant Super-Carrier, along with the trees of this swamp. Which were on fire and burning due to the intense landing.

Laying on this disfigured purple wall, was a person, a man. He was barely conscious, mud-covered, but alive.

He was wearing MJOLNIR Spartan Armor, with many different color patterns. He had large shoulder pads that did not match each other. They were a mix of gold and red. On his chest seemed to be some sort of a giant grenade of some kind attached to it.

Even so, his entire armor seemed to have multi variations of maroon, gold, and a tarnished yellow. But to his back was a thick metal backpack. It was a dark grey and had most of the swamps embrace on it.

To his face, was wrinkled, scarred, and very war torn. He had a dark, grey stubble beard that was not as faded as it should be for his age. On his head was a military grade buzz cut, the same faded grey color as his beard. His eyes, had they been open, would be a dark black. Not of young eyes, but of tired, twilight vision.

He began to breathe heavily as his mind came back to him. Lifting up his arm, he held it to the purple muddy ground rolling himself over. Once then, on his side, he began to vomit. Loud mushy sounds of him coughing as mud, and puke came up. It did not touch his armor or arms though, it just drained out of him and left a tannish green stain on the hexagonal pad.

Using his other arm, he wiped the excess from his lips and chin, shaking his head a little. He stood up slowly, as if he was relearning to walk. The purple metal panel he was standing on made loud cracking and creaking noises, swaying with his weight. As a Spartan, he was very heavy. And especially this one.

He glanced around for a moment, as if he was looking for something. He had the face that he did not need what he sought for, but it would have been convenient to have. Seeing it in the corner of his eye, he ambled forward. One slow step after another, with a slight hunch to himself. The ammunition in his backpack weighed almost three hundred pounds. He, knowing this, and more or less feeling it, knew it had to go.

"Eh... probably not gonna need this."

Unlatching a few straps that were around his neck, then to his side. Metal clicks were heard in the lush loony swamp. Then coming a loud bang soon after. Metal made contact with metal as the iron backpack fell to the ground. It slid off the Covenant floor and into the mud due to this ground being uneven.

This may just be some heavy backpack, but it was part of his equipment. But knows that he must travel light. He is in an unknown territory in and unknown place, after being thrown by a slip space bomb. This would just slow him down.

Shrugging his shoulders feeling the release of weight, he sighed contempt. Then closing his eyes for a moment to take in a breath.

Looking around, he took a few more steps. He bent over, grabbing this object firmly, he pulled it out of the mud. It was his Grenadier helmet. With a U/A protective armor attachment on top. Its color being steel and a faded gold, with a deep crimson visor. The visor did have some of the swamps excess on it, so the man wiped it away.

Scanning it for more filthiness, he shook it a little. Causing more gunk to slime its way off forcefully.

Looking inside the helmet, there was little to no mud swampy essence inside.

"Maybe my day is looking up, hah."

Holding it above his head slightly, he slipped it on like an old glove. And it fit just perfectly. Within his helmet a HUD was shown. From what his eyes could see, was a blue icon of his shield integrity at the top. Just beneath that was his health meter. It was pulsing orange, telling him he was injured. He noticed this, but didn't feel anything.

"Must be broken..." he mumbled with his soft Hungarian accent.

Looking to his bottom left was his sprint level bar, along with a motion radar. The motion radar did not read anything, so he was able to take a sigh of relief. Many times that radar has saved his life, so seeing nothing truly relaxed him a little.

He pressed the button on the side of his head, a com link of some kind.

"Noble one? This is Noble five reporting? I have no idea where I am and need immediate pick up."

Only static.

Fifteen seconds passed before he tried again.

"Noble one? This is Jorge."

Another twenty seconds passed of static waiting for a response, with no avail.

"Damn… there is too much interference here."

Stopping for a moment to think, he wondered. Did Six make it? And was he dead? Or worse... and what is this place? It does not look like Reach... swamps on Reach are not this dense, if any at all.

The Package - Halo Reach

Taking one last look, he walked forward, through the swamp. Particularly stepping on other parts of the wreckage trying to stay out of the mud. He walked for a long time. Stepping through mud puddle after mud puddle. Around each curvy swamp tree, through the hazy grounds. The swamp faced off the illusion that there was a floor, due to the haze, but it wasn't. It was so uneven that he couldn't rely on his vision too much.

Holding a tree for the moment, he could see a break in the tree line. He took one step out of the swamp and onto dry grass he went.

But then he heard an all too familiar sound...gunshots. They came from the swamp, and not too far away.

Taking a look to freedom, then to the source of the gunshots, then back again. He made the decision. Turning back around, the giant man ran to the direction of the shots.

They sounded different. Like a covenant plasma rifle, but... very different. No bangs of gunpowder like brass, just seemingly strange plasma shots.

"May be Covenant." he thought.

With each step made a deep imprint in the ground. The sounds of metal and fiber joints moving back and forth were heard. For being of his age, he was unbelievably agile. No Olympic athlete could even dream having a body like his, even for his age.

The haze of the swamp as he trudged through changed to almost a smoke. This smoke got thicker as he pressed closer to these noises. Louder and louder they got by each step. They began recognizable in a sense. It definitely was not a Plasma Rifle or Plasma Repeater, but something of the same genre of weapon. His thinking and mindless running was cut short, he could see the origin of the noise.

A hole in the floor. There was a spherical gap about thirty feet wide. It was incinerated around the perimeter, to a bright blinding orange. It was seemingly created from a explosive of some kind.

Looking to his left, he could see a black rope, made out of a material he had never seen before. Not really thinking about it too much, he leaned back holding onto it, jumping downward into the hole.

Gripping it tightly, his overall mass and weight quickly descended to the floor. In fact, the rope almost snapped under his weight. He landed on what looks to be the ceiling that was cut though. Veering you his right, he could quickly tell where the shots were coming from. He began to walk into the strange room careful of his surroundings.

Outlines of bright orange lights encased all around, surrounded by black metal covers. At first he would have thought about where he was going, but the sounds lured him down the hallway. His initial thought of the shots was that of a cross between a Needle Rifle and a Plasma Repeater. But now that he can hear it more clearly, it is clear that is not that at all. It sounds too puffy to be the sharp sound of Needle weapon. And wasn't beefy enough to be a a Plasma Rifle.

Jorge taking another step forward to investigate further, stooped when he stepped on something.

A metal hand.

Tan and metal was the corpse of some sort of a robot. It was very thin in the limbs, with an antenna attached to some sort of a backpack. It's head was curved like a boomerang, with strange black indents which seemed like eyes. The Spartan stared at it for a second, confused and perplexed by it. But after hearing more gunshots, he quickly was snapped back to the world. Looking down at this robot's right hand, was some sort of a rifle.

Grabbing it quickly and tightly, he held it in his right hand. Being shorter and stranger than a military grade Assault Rifle, he stared at it more.

The man barrel of the rifle had holes encircling the entire weapon. It had no stock, but some sort of a short nub. Going down to the grip, was a very large trigger. Even covenant Needlers did not have such a large trigger. It did have some sort of an iron sight, but a strange one to be sure.

But, hoisting it up, he gripped it tightly like anyone should hold any firearm. Its petite frame made it somewhat odd to hold, but he did the best he could. Jorge stepped over the metal husks that lie on the metallic bunker-like ground. But then as he glanced up, quickly he saw that something was wrong.

Dead humans. Everywhere around scattered with the robotic limbs.

But these people were strange. They were bearing bright white armor that he had never seen. Their visor on each one was black, that looked like the sideways letter 'K'. Then on their helmets specifically, had on some of them markings or indents. Tick marks on the sides, likely symbolizing kills or battles.

Jorge was far larger than any of these human corpses, which was definitely expected. Yet in respect, the man did not touch or investigate further into the bodies. UNSC or something else, he respected them to leave these soldiers where they had fallen.

Stepping over them, over countless bodies, he carefully went.

Looking ahead, to the end of the corridor, he could see bright red plasma shots pelt the wall. Leaving black holes and seared marks, like all the others, he also heard screams. They were loud, louder than the sound of the shots.

Rushing ahead over the corpses, he turned to the left into the hallway, revealing more corpses. The hazy smoke only increased seeing the bodies of these men. But there was something else. Strange humanoid figures were encapsulated by the smoke only having a black outline. As they marched in single file lines they revealed their form.

The same robots that the Spartan had seen earlier, expect active and not in pieces.

They were marching forward in synchronized steps. Which then made him then quickly look down.

On the floor was one of these white armored soldiers, alive laying on his back with his hands to his face. He was groaning in pain, seemingly from some sort of a head wound.

These robots, without question or reason, opened fire, letting three red laser bolts streak into him. Jorge stuck out his hand, as if he was going to run the twenty foot distance to him, but he couldn't. This killed the wounded soldier instantly, two wounds to his chest, and another to his forehead. With this, he let out a quick moan of death before going limp.

The Spartan could only gaze for a moment.

Jorge may not know what's going on, but one thing is true. You do not kill unarmed, wounded soldiers in such a way, robot or not.

But this did not matter. These robots, these... droids, immediately turned their weapons to the Spartan.

The main commander droid in the middle with yellow indents, turned to Jorge. Confused, he pointed to him and let out an order, "Blast him!"

In the instant reaction, the Spartan charged forward at the robots before they could fire. Moving at speeds no one had even seen, he could with absolute ease. He rammed into them, knocking over three. They, retaliated by firing back. Four red shots hit the Spartan causing his shields to go down slightly. He was actually surprised by how many bolts missed him. Covenant elites landed far many more shots than these robots did. Even so, his armor reacted to these bolts, causing dim orange lights that illuminated his body as his shields took a beating.

These tan robots were confused by the Spartan. His speeds were that of a Jedi, but he did not have a lightsaber. And he easily was a head and a half taller than each droid, making him a true behemoth.

In the back of the line, Super-Battle-Droids aimed their wrist rifles over the crowd. Their more accurate shots hit the spartan, causing his meter to beep frantically. It was telling him that his shields were vastly low.

Grabbing another one of the droid rifles off the floor, duel wielding, he fired back. Multiple red lights streaked out of both rifles, making their marks in multiple droids. They fumbled over and collapsed seeing that they could only take one to two hits. Even falling back on each other, which just eliminated more.

Jorge may have been trained with heavy weaponry, but he knows how to use everything else. He has to, he is a Spartan.

Meanwhile, the Spartan saw a huge commotion in the back. Droid limbs, and sparks flying into the air. This chaos and fighting caused the droids to panic seeing now that they were flanked. Their welps and screams filled the corridor, louder than the shots that the Spartan was firing, or the fighting in the flank. One by one the droids fell at an alarming rate, by the dozens. Once the last droid fell over, the spartan looked ahead of him to his helpers.

He could only stare, and as could they.

The spartan even with seeing their fallen comrades, was perplexed still by their armor. These soldiers wore the exact same thing, nothing like what the UNSC has used or seen. But the man in the middle was the one that got the most attention. He was a little over six feet tall, trimmed brown hair, along with a well kept beard that matched his hair. His armor was the same as the soldiers, wearing the same white shoulder pads, gauntlets and knees.

This man walked forward, interested in the gold and red spartan."My, didn't you take care of those droids quickly."

"Eh, they shot first, just returning the favor."

"I see.. could you by chance help us a bit more then?" Asked the man.

The spartan glanced down to him, immediately noticing that he had a English tone of voice. "I honestly don't know what I'm doing here... this UNSC?"

"Well my friend, there are certainly none associated with that name here."

"Oh, hmm."

One of the troopers stepped forward, next to the brown haired man, "I am sorry to interrupt sir, but we still have to find those bombs."

But these troopers were different. Not purely white like what Jorge had seen. Their chest and front of their helmets were white, with a diamond pattern. But the rest were orange, with strange red symbols on their shoulders.

"Must be EOD." thought Jorge.

The man stroking the scruff of his beard once, turned to the tall spartan, "Right, best be off then, we can continue this later."

The orange soldiers and the bearded man turned around, running the other direction.

Looking down to these strange rifles that he was holding, the spartan hesitated. Truly for the first time in his life. Spartans never were supposed to flinch... always moving... always adapting... now what? Was he to engage? These are not UNSC or Covenant...

They are human... and they do not seem like rebels...

He turned around back to that soldier who was butchered... mercilessly. He was thirty feet away still with his hands on his blackly singed white helmet. Then in front of that corpse, was the metallic husk of yellow commander droid that issued the assault.

He shook his head, "They are just robots."

Running down the orange glowing hallway, he quickly caught up the man. Going to the left around the soldiers, it got his attention quickly. He while running, turned to Jorge, smiling. "I see you decided to join us."

"Yea, feeling is mutual... what are we dealing with?"

This man took a big breath of air as they ran down the corridor, "A madman has made Bio-bombs with enough firepower to level half the galaxy... we are heading to the place we're they are stored."

He shook his head, remembering that Bio-warfare was still unfortunately a thing, "Sounds pretty bad."

"I'm afraid it is."

Even with this, Jorge actually had to slow his pace significantly just to match them. In fact to him, they were going just a jogging speed. Even though to the soldiers it was a dire sprint. He being a spartan, was larger and faster then all of them. But he knew this and was able to work with it.

Waiting for them to finish, one of the orange EOD soldiers in the back holding some sort of a tablet, ran ahead next to the man, "the bombs are in here."

They all took a hard right into the room, and what they saw was stunning.

Four racks each with between forty to sixty bombs on each, scaled each wall. The metallic room was illuminated by the light above them, which then revealed the bombs. These bombs were yellow and black, with biohazard symbols on them. Spherical in nature with tiny hatches on top. They were about the size of a small soccer ball, with a yellow dial in the middle.

"Good, they haven't been activated." said the man.

But just then, he jinxed himself. From front to back, the bombs all beeped one by one. From row to row they began to pulse a bright red. The soldiers, Jorge and the man knew that this wasn't good. With this, the man held up his forearm, pressing some strange communication device on his wrist.

"Anakin! The bombs have been activated!"

"Kinda busy right now, Dr. Vindi is escaping!" said another man on the voice communicator.

"Well on top of that one of them is missing!" Pointing to the empty rack, he quickly turned around, "get these bombs deactivated now!"

Without question or word, these EOD's ran quickly to the rack and started grabbing the pulsating bombs. Getting on their knees, they started looking for a way to open them.

Jorge was so focused into the bombs, he didn't even notice that the other man with the beard ran out of the room. Seeing this, he moved next to one of the soldiers grabbing one of the explosives off the wall, then some tweezers next to him.

"Hey, hey, do you know what you're doing?" asked one of the men with an assertive tone.

Jorge relaxes his arms, looking for the panel to open the bomb, "I am HWS and EOD, nothing I haven't seen before."

"So your like us?"

"Well, I use them as much as I disarm them." he got on his knees, veering to the explosive sphere to investigated it further.

"Ah well, hope you can disarm them as fast as we can."

"Haha we will see." Jorge chuckled.

The soldier nodded in response and got back to work. Jorge, taking off the piece of metal that was on the back, saw the contents. Just like any technical device, multiple colored wires lined perfectly inside like the veins to an arm. Most would be lost and confused trying to disarm such a device, but not the soldiers or Jorge.

"Looks Like a GPE." said Jorge holding up the wires to the light above them to get a better view.

They were all pretty confused on what he said, "GPE?" one of them asked.

Jorge held the bomb closer to his face picking at its insides with the tweezers, "Yea, General Purpose Explosive...nothing too fancy."

"Oh yeah… well we got different names for things that's for sure."

A moment of silence filled the air. They only thing to be heard was the sound of tweezers grinding against metal. And the quiet yet hard aroma of focus.

"Ah…" pausing, the Spartan looking at the color configuration, "Alright, it's blue then yellow."

The moment Jorge clipped those wires, the bomb went dark. Bright red lights that once encircled the yellow bomb went dark, telling Jorge that he got it right.

One of the orange soldiers saw how fast the tall, gold, metal man disarmed the bomb. He was amazed and yet envious. "Yea think I got it too…"

He too snipped the same wires as Jorge did, and the bomb went inactive. Red tick lights that encircled the bomb dissipated.

A trooper shook his head, "One down... hundred more to go."

For an untold number of minutes, that felt forever, they went. Bomb after bomb, wire after wire was gone through. These soldiers liked the rivalry, as Jorge dismantled twice as many as they. Careful cutting and zoning focus was required for such a task. One wrong move, one wrong snip, and everyone in the entire area was dead.

This pile of deactivated bombs came to almost four feet tall, and time was running out.

The bright red dial that encircled the center of the bomb had tick marks. Each tick mark was three and a half minutes. Since it started it, all twenty six tick marks were a bright noticeable crimson. Now, a third of that remains. And they have about forty bombs left.

"Damn there's a lot more than I thought." said one of the EOD troopers.

Jorge ignoring him, started to multitask. Opening two bombs at once, then dismantling them. After doing multiple different ideas, this seemed the fastest. As time ticked by, slowly did their mind. They knew what they were doing now, so there wasn't much thought to it.

Time became of the the essence as the tick marks faded away. Two tick marks left meant less than seven minutes... with almost fifteen bombs left.

They troopers began to shake their hands much as they gained finger fatigue. But Jorge didn't even break a sweat. Like a machine, he moved from bomb after bomb. Opening the back, finding the blue and yellow wires, cutting them correctly, and putting the dismantled device gently into the pile. At this point, the pile of inactive devices has gained almost to five feet, with almost four bombs left.

The troopers and Jorge began to rush seeing how many bombs there were. That wasn't the issue though. It was that there was only one tick mark of red light. Meaning there is under three minutes.

The three troopers and Jorge had equally one last bomb. Grinding away making the one last push, they made it. Expect the last trooper. Two EOD clones and Jorge had their bombs finished, with one last clone struggling.

"Crap it's not opening!" he said.

Time was ticking. It had easily been at least two minutes since they marked the tick change.

"Shit!" He spoke again but with more anger to it.

With the beeping of the bomb getting faster, he knew the risks. Jorge ripped the bomb out of the orange troopers hand.

"Hey!"

Grasping it tightly, the Spartan forced the metal cover open, revealing the bombs insides. He grabbed the blue and yellow wire, with his bare fingers knowing there is no time. As he heard the bombs beeping getting even faster, worry came about very quickly.

Pulling the wires out, was sparks and quick flashes in the air. It did brighten up a bit and made the troopers jump a little. But there was good news. With this, the bomb went dark, and everyone took a breath of relief.

One of the clones fell from his knees onto his butt, looking up to the ceiling, "Ah hell.. that was too close Felix."

This trooper, Felix, shook his arms a bit, "You know I don't work under pressure."

"Hope that doesn't happen again." responded another orange EOD."

Jorge got up seeing the same bearded man from before, along with two other humans. And someone else.

Two strange humanoid-beings walk into the room behind the humans, they did walk on two legs, and had manly a similar frame. The one on the left looked very young, like a teenager, and had bright orange skin. On her head was these strange horn-like caps, looking like hair almost.

While the other being had long flaps of skin that folded back onto his back, two eyes the bobbed up like a slugs, and a reptilian shaped face. He or she were hunched over and seemed not very socially oriented. It looked like a Jackal at first, which made Jorge flinch and clench his fists. But after closer inspection, he did see that this wasn't a Kig-Yar.

The Clones - Star Wars the Clone Wars

With seeing Jorge, the English man spoke, "I see you made some friends."

"We did the job, but yea... what about the other bomb?"

"Disarmed as well," he said smiling.

The other man stepped forward, looking to Jorge. He was tall, shaggy, less kept hair with deep blue eyes. He had a scar going across one of them. "Thanks for the help, but how'd you get here?"

The giant Hungarian man crossed his arms in his armor trying not to stare at the strange humanoids."Well I honestly do not know."

"We're you by chance apart of the earthquake we had earlier?" asked the young orange humanoid.

Jorge was actually surprised that this thing spoke English, but, nevertheless, he answered, "Earthquake?"

Wondering too if the other could speak, he could only stare. He didn't know what to think or say to these... things. "Yea, there was a loud tremor a while ago, which is strange because Naboo doesn't usually have earthquakes on this continent."

Shrugging his shoulders, the bearded man stepped forward, cutting the girl off from Jorge. "I think it be best to discuss this with the council... but, first, a thanks is in order," he held out his hand, smiling, "I am General Obi-Wan Kenobi."

The spartan responded by grabbing his arm, handshaking hand-shaking Kenobi, "I'm Noble Five, but you can call me Jorge."

Well, yea you people probably got lots and lots of questions. Which I do understand. I will answer them the best I can, and if you have ANY that I have not answered, please ask in comments or PM. But anywho, the biggest question right, wtf happened.

So my friend Derek, who also my editor (more like a helper) didn't like where Synchrons of Redemption was going. So instead of telling me, he straight up deletes the story. I'm not kidding.

This started because of an argument I had with him, how the story wanted to end. I wanted the story to lean towards Xyval and how his character develops throughout the story. While he, just wanted it all to be about Faber (which by the way, he wanted originally the ENTIRE story to be just about Faber, and took me forever to convince him to introduce Xyval). Anyway, thoughts about where the story was going to go turned to opinions, then turned to bicker, then turned the arguing.

I kinda did a dick move of "this is my account and I'm the writer so this is my story."

As you can see where that got me.

He deleted the story and said that we couldn't agree on anything, which Derek you were not wrong, but like... you didn't tell me.

Well literally within the same hour I found this out, I like mentally snapped. I previously yesterday spent almost four hours editing chapters III, and V. And I finished chapter VI, which btw if you guys read it would have a nerdgasm.

But anywho, it's in the dumps.

So in response, I changed my fanfiction password so he couldn't get in.

Then whenever he found out about a day later, he gets onto my Google account, which was my fault because my FnaFiction account and Google were loosely the same passwords. And he changed the password and deleted it.

So I lost my Google account, so by to my Google docs.

It took me a bit to get over this, but eh here I am, starting from scratch. I have a new google password, new fanfiction password. Starting from Scratch.

Not much to say at this point other than I was an idiot and I'll try not to let that happen again.

Anyway, if y'all have any questions please tell me or ask. I do like this story and am going to continue it without any inconveniences.

As always, Stay safe, stay healthy,

~NoXXiMillioN