The bus ride to the Crown Petone was relatively quick, he dreaded the day where he'd have to travel anywhere further out. Knowing the scope of his cases, he expected he would. And with the odd changes to the world, he hoped they were all still where they were meant to be. If he found himself travelling to Folsense only to discover it didn't exist, he'd be less than pleased.

The seats around him were packed with tourists, he recalled how the theatre had gained a reputation in the years following the incident- many archaeologists who wished to study Ambrosia and often stopped at the Theatre to see shows and view the galleries.

The theatre appeared to have just finished it's matinee performance as he arrived, as well dressed guests began to file out of the main doors. He could see actors in full makeup and casual clothing heading out to find lunch. The place was just as Grand as he remembered, though it was odd to see it in such a casual way. He searched round the building for someone who may be able to talk to him, there were a few crew members and chorus dancers he vaguely recognised, but he doubted they'd know any details. And then he spotted her.

Janice Quatlane was outside, what he presumed was, her dressing room, talking to a group of women. She looked tired, but in a way that seemed to suggest it was from the performance. He watched her sign a programme and laugh at something one of the apparent fans sad. One dark haired woman stood beside her was holding a toddler, who grabbed at Janice's necklace. She pulled back when she saw Janice raise a hand to it.

"Emiliana, leave the poor woman alone." She scolded the little girl, who just laughed and waved her fist around.

"It's no worry" assured Janice "She's just excited. I'm sure she'll be a big opera fan when she's older."

"She already is!" remarked the woman as the little girl began to grab at her hair "Your record is the only thing that will put her to sleep!" The woman and her friends bid goodbye, and Hershel took the opportunity to make his way over to Janice.

She smiled sweetly as he approached, waving at the leaving fans. He quickly introduced himself before she could make the assumption that he was just another fan. Though he was, that just wasn't why he'd come there.

"Hershel Layton." He held his arm out for a handshake. "Miss Quatlane, I'm sorry if this seems forward- but would you be able to answer some questions about the Incident here with the Game for eternal life?" Janice's face dropped as she shook his hand, her voice was quiet.

"Ambrosia? I thought that case was solved."

"Only partly, the main culprit still hasn't been found." Janice bit her lip and checked her watch.

"I've got some time free before I need to start getting ready for first call, but it'll have to be quick." She opened the door to the dressing room, pushing a pillow between the doorframe with her foot to stop it fully closing. Hershel didn't feel offended, in this timeline it was unlikely the two had met before. There was another girl in there stitching a costume, but Hershel assured Janice that the information wasn't classified.

They sat on chairs opposite a mirrored wall, Hershel noticed just how bad he looked. His makeshift outfit wasn't very professional, especially beside a heavily made up performer. Lots of postcards and polaroid photos were stuck round the edges of the mirror frame, mainly showing old shows Janice had starred in.

"You were there on the night I presume?" he asked. He felt bad asking her, she had clearly put the night out of her mind. Janice didn't look in his eyes as she recounted it.

"Yes. It was during our performance." She spoke factually, as if she'd told this story many times before. Hershel pulled his notebook out.

"Can you give me an explanation of what happened?" Janice sighed as she started to explain.

"After the show, a masked man started giving orders on stage- he said there was going to be a game, and that we were all participants." She went on to explain the puzzles and the transforming theatre, how they arrived on an island. It all sounded the same so far.

"Do you remember any of the other attendees that made it to that point?" She drummed her fingers against the ledge.

"I don't remember everyone I'm afraid. But in my small group there were-" she counted on her fingers, trying to recall each one. "Two teenage girls and an old Football star." She paused as Hershel wrote it down. "Oh and I'd given tickets to my old University Professor, but his wife and her friend joined us since he was away."

"Angela Ledore?"

"Ascot." Hershel mentally reprimanded himself, but Janice didn't seem to mind the slip of the tongue, she had no reason to suspect he knew Angela personally. He had to be more careful of things like that.

"Of course, and do you recall who the teenagers were?"

"One was a … Chess Player I believe. She was there to win the game for her Grandfather." She didn't answer about the other, but furrowed her brow, clearly thinking. "Do you know about the machine?" she whispered the last word.

"I believe so." The Detragan. He wondered what ever happened to that thing.

"Well I don't know much about the other girl, but when we got to the final part of the game, Mr Whistler tried to use that machine on her." Just as he'd tried to do to Amelia, it seemed Whistler had found another possible host. "The man seemed angry about that, and attacked Whistler"

"I'm assuming that the machine didn't work." Janice paused. Hershel wondered if she'd actually been there, or if she'd been watching from behind her eyes as Melina took control.

"No. It didn't." She seemed saddened by the memory, which made Hershel think it had Melina who'd taken part in the show "But it did it's job at raising Ambrosia. I think that was the man's actual motive."

"Yes, it didn't appear as if he was concerned with the game." From the reports, it appeared that was Descole's last exploit. Janice leant forwards, seemingly more invested in her next piece of information.

"I don't mean to involve myself but.. I don't think he was alone in his plan. That girl, the unusual one, there was something about her. She sang the song of the Sun without having ever read the sheet music for it. It was almost instinctive, as if she already knew the words."

Of course, all three songs had to be played for Ambrosia to rise.

"What happened to her?"

"I'm not sure. She left with the man in the mask, I assume the police found her."

"Alright." He added everything down, he had a few theories as to who the mystery girl may have been, one seemed very likely. "You've been a great help Miss Quatlane, thank you for your time." He got up to leave, preparing to bid her farewell but she raised a hand.

"Sir, if you're working on this would you be able to help me with something else?" she asked hesitantly "I know it's not a formal request, but the police stopped investigating because they had no leads.."

"Certainly, it's the duty of a Gentleman to help someone in need." Janice looked round to make sure the other woman wasn't eavesdropping.

"My girlfriend disappeared last year" She rubbed her thumb against her other hand. "She went away on business and I never heard from her again. I'm very worried, but I've been told not to look any further into it. Do you think you can find her?"

"Well of course, I'll look into her disappearance as much as I can- do you have a name?"

"Emmy." Hershel froze, surely he'd misheard. Janice furrowed her brow, and unpinned a photo from her mirror. Hershel hadn't fully acknowledged the images when he entered, but he could now see Janice stood with a formally dressed woman in the foyer of the theatre. It appeared Janice noticed his reaction. "She went to take photographs in Austria and never returned. Do you recognise her at all?"

"Emmy Altava?" Hershel tried to contain the shock as Janice confirmed, it was definitely not who he anticipated. He wasn't aware that the two were even well acquainted, but then again he didn't know much about Emmy's personal life. "Sorry I just.. I used to know her."

"Really! Will you help me find her then?"

Hershel feared this mystery more than any of the others. Knowing Emmy's past and her eventual regret of what she'd done, as well as Descole's disappearance, he was greatly concerned for what happened to her. She'd seen Targent as her family, but they may not have seen her the same way. But regardless of his thoughts, he couldn't deny a request to help someone he'd cared about.

"I will."

After the multiple investigations of the day, Hershel figured it was time to settle. There was a lot to think about. Returning to the Ascots house (he couldn't get used to thinking off it like that) was unusual. There was a warmth between his friends that he hadn't seen in so very long.

In high school, Randall and Angela were very close- he and the others were often borderline uncomfortable, he was pretty sure they did it on purpose. But that closeness had definitely dimmed after Monte D'Or, Hershel could figure that an eighteen year gap would change people. They were more subtle, more old fashioned.

But here, they were just as sappy as they were at 17. It was heartwarming and sweet, but alo vaguely nauseating. Hershel was not an angry person, but if he heard 'Randy' or 'Angie' again he was going to leave.

He was sure he'd be able to stay at Barton's if he asked nicely.

But as awkward as he felt being an apparent third wheel, it was familiar and oddly somewhat comforting.

They both welcomed him back grinning, as if he were another member of the family, and asked him about where he'd been. He gave minimal details, but the two were enthralled to hear he'd met an old student of his.

As he sat in their kitchen eating dinner with them, he couldn't help but slightly feel like this was right. A world where they were all still happy, they'd all kept in touch. There was no air of resentment, or the clear feeling he always had when he'd stayed with them in Monte D'Or. The distinct feeling that their lives had gone down separate paths that were simply too difficult to get back on course.

For just a moment he wondered if perhaps this was a better universe, his friends were happy. That had to count for something, maybe it was okay here.

But then he thought about Emmy and his brother. They were both missing. They could be in danger. Even if he hadn't spoken to them for a while in his normal life, he still needed to know what happened to them. His gut instinct told him the incidents were definitely related.

There were also several people that he hadn't discovered yet, who he hoped were okay. His family being a clear one. And there was something to do with the Azran. There was one point there where the two things coincided. There was also someone who'd be able to help him on this mystery without accusing him of making things up. He hoped his theories so far lined up with the truth as he asked.

"Randall, do you know the Triton family?"

"Clark Triton?" Hershel nodded "Yeah he's an old college friend, I solved a case for him a few years back. Wild one, there was this big dinosaur manatee and-"

"Where do they live?"

"Misthallery I think, little lakeside village." Layton was ecstatic to hear that, much easier to get there than America. He'd been meaning to visit the family. He didn't have enough information to ponder the not moving.

"Can I borrow your car?" Randall raised an eyebrow as he continued eating.

"Sure, but why do you need to see Clark Triton?" Hershel considered for a moment revealing everything, but it wasn't right just yet. And they'd think him crazy. "I didn't think you knew him."

"Old friends." He brushed off the question "I have some things I need to figure out, and he's the best man to talk to." Technically his son was, but the lack of photos of Randall and his apprentice gave Hershel the impression that they didn't have that particular affiliation in this universe, even if he'd taken on his cases. They wouldn't understand.

But Luke would get it, they'd been on much more bizarre adventures. What was a case of mismatched memories when compared to the End of the World? And if he could figure out more about the Azran Legacies while there, well that was just a bonus. So long as Luke remembered who he was.

Hershel retired for the night in the spare bedroom, a plan formulating in his head. The pieces were beginning to come together, he just needed to find a way to connect them.

Next stop, Misthallery.