Randall's car was a nightmare.

Yes, the Laytonmobile was old. Yes, it wasn't a conventional design. Yes, Hershel's parents had unsubtly hinted that he should get a new one and so had Alfendi.

But he'd prefer that to whatever this was.

This… modern car. With it's low ceiling and working radio. How was he supposed to drive in something so cramped?

It took him a good few minutes to even get out the driveway. He could see Randall hesitantly watching from the living room window, probably fearing that Hershel would smash into his mailbox. He finally managed to edge out and down the street, figuring out where to go, the map laid out on the seat beside him.

Misthallery was about an hour's drive (He wondered how on earth Emmy had been able to cope with doing this on her bike) which gave him a good amount of time to think.

He was sure Misthallery would be the same- there were reports of Specters long before Descole appeared to vanish. Though, he feared that his relationship with the Tritons may not be as close as he'd come to know, since there was no evidence of them recently corresponding. But he had to hope for the best. And he had to believe that Luke and him would always get on just fine regardless of what the circumstances were.

And there's no way Triton's and his relationship could have changed that much. They were the closest friends in college, even more so than him and Randall. Hershel was the one who introduced Clark and Brenda to eachother, and they'd spent so many nights studying. Those memories can't have all gone. They had to be there somewhere.

Hershel furrowed his brow. He could feel his optimism trying to drown out his fear.

As he pulled into town, he noticed it was even more misty than he remembered. He didn't think that was possible. It had already been rather foggy in his memory.

He'd hoped to slip in quickly, but no such luck. Three people stood round the entrance to town, one perched dangerously on the side of the rope bridge, swinging on the railing, seemingly disregarding the massive drop below them. They hadn't seemed to see his approaching, or perhaps they were ignoring him. He parked just outside, assuming it was a safe place to leave the car. As soon as he was closer, he could make out the appearance of the figures. They didn't seem threatening, but he wasn't sure.

They were all young teenagers, probably a bit older as Luke. They still didn't acknowledge him as he shut the door. The first was a boy leaning against the post, dressed in overalls with goggles hung round his neck, grease slicked across his cheek as if he'd just come away from working on a car. Stood beside him was a shorter girl with unusually girlish pigtails and a long peacoat. They looked related, and the two seemed to be involved in some kind of debate.

Perched on the bridge was a boy with long hair tied back in a ponytail, a faded scarf looped round his neck. He seemed slightly older than the others, though it may have just been from his serious expression as he stared into the fog.

Hershel had trouble placing them, but he knew these teenagers, he was certain of it. The one on the bridge shot him a look as he got closer, and clicked his fingers. The other two stopped their conversation and looked to him as he whispered something.

"Hey Mister." The boy with Goggles called, standing up. "You looking for something?"

"I'm looking for Clark Triton." He answered, going to move past them. He didn't need to trouble them with an errand.

"I think I saw him in the Market Place. Why don't we show you down there?" The boy grinned, and Hershel saw the other two suppress a giggle.

"Yeah go on, Socket can help you find him." Hershel saw the girl pocket some kind of Medallion. He had a flash of nostalgia, he definitely knew these teenagers. The Goggled boy, Socket rubbed the back of his neck.

"And there's uh, something else we can show you as well."

"I don't have time I'm afraid" He looked across the bridge, noticing the lack of traffic. "And from the looks of things the Market is closed."

"Yeah but it's just about to open!"

"And Clark is already there?" The boy's eyes widened as he shot a glance to the girl.

"…Yes." He saw the older boy with his face in his hands. Hershel figured it was safe enough to assume nothing had changed there.

"I'm very sorry to be so blunt but isn't this con a bit… predictable?" Hershel asked, eyebrow raised. He watched the girl's eyes dart towards the others. "And it's hardly fair to try and trick a visitor." Hershel offered, giving a stern but sorrowful look.

"Don't know whatcha talking about." The girl replied indignantly as she pushed her brother out of the way "We're just trying to be helpful."

"I don't have time to find The Black Raven I'm afraid. So no need for you two to go and get changed." There was a collective look of shock from the teenagers, who all tried to cover it up unsuccessfully. Socket tried to pretend he didn't know what a Raven was.

Hershel remembered this group very well, his apprentice and children were quite fond of them. Though it was noticeably less adorable to be sold black market goods by teens rather than precocious school children.

"One second." Said the girl, Wren, as she walked to the other boy. Their conversation was hushed but he could hear comments of 'Who told him then?' 'Well you're the only ones who know' 'I'll bet it was Nabby'

Eventually the boy with the scarf, Crow, huffed and approached him. He'd obviously hit a growth spurt, nearly reaching the same height as Hershel. It was hard to believe he was Flora's age.

"All right, I don't know who you are or how you know, but you gotta keep it secret okay? It's hard enough having only 5 people running the Black Market, we don't need nobody spilling our methods."

"You have my word, I simply need to find Mr Triton." Crow frowned, thinking.

"He'll probably be at the Excavation site, he tends to hide out there at Weekends. Don't tell him we know that."

"Thank you." Replied Hershel, tipping his hat. Crow pretended to tip his in return, smirking. Hershel continued over to the rope bridge into the main town before turning back "And do try to stay out of trouble."

"Not making any promises!" He called.

The town of Misthallery had always been gloomy, though it was more of an atmospheric description. The fog never seemed to cease. But walking through town that morning, Hershel couldn't help but apply it in a more personal way. He didn't know if it was just the early morning, but everyone walking round seemed to be miserable. Shop owners seemed to be thoroughly unimpressed that people wanted to buy things. He saw a little crature running along the edge of the Canals and, ignoring his judgement of how wet the floor was (it was very wet) knelt beside it. Mice weren't easy to remember, but he was sure it was the right one.

"Hello Toppy. I don't suppose you've seen Luke have you?" The mouse looked at him and squeaked before running back down the canal. Hershel hoped the mouse had gone to find his Apprentice, but he had no way of telling. He smiled at the woman who was staring at him, shaking her head at the Gentleman talking to a rodent.

As he continued, there were a few people milling around the outskirts, but the middle of town was nearly barren, it was an odd sight. He could see something unfamiliar in the distance and wondered if it was empty for a particular reason. Getting closer, he could see the once gleaming town centre was looking slightly decrepit. Not fully deserted, but just looking a little worse for wear. The canals round it didn't see to be in use, and most of the houses were seemingly empty.

The one part that seemed to be well maintained, a spot of gold against the rust, was a plaque on the wall, by the doors of the Golden Garden.

Hershel walked closer, and read the inscription. He smiled sadly.

In Memory of Arianna Barde

A dear sister

and Loosha

A beloved friend

There was a small mosaic above, showing the silhouettes of the two of them. Someone had placed flowers beneath it.

He looked over at the Garden, which was sealed with a large padlock, It seemed as if it had been opened too late. He took his hat off and held it to his chest. Poor girl. Even if he hadn't met the two in this world, it still hurt to know she hadn't made it.

He wondered how Luke had coped. Those two were very close, she and her brother had visited London a couple of times. He must have been affected.

Suddenly he felt bad for trying to involve Luke in this bizarre mission. He knew it likely wasn't his fault, but he was feeling slightly guilty for whatever had become of Misthallery. He had a gut instinct that he'd somehow caused this.

There must have been a reason why the Garden wasn't opened in time.

But the most he could do for the poor girl was continue on and find a way back to the other timeline, where she was happy and healthy.

He shook his head, attempting to bury this unexpected grief, he moved towards the Excavation sight as Crow had suggested, and was happy to see the man he was looking for. He was sat with a book, looking at a rock beside him. He looked confused as Hershel approached.

"Clark?" he called, the man waved a hand, shutting his book. He as dressed casually, Hershel assumed it must be his day off. Crow had mentioned it being the weekend after all. The man jumped at his name being called, apparently not expecting visitors.

"Hello, do they need me back at the Hall?" he asked, looking sheepishly at the lunch laid out of the rocks. Hershel looked at his face. There wasn't a hint of recognition in his eyes.

"No, you're fine."

"Oh good, it always seems like an issue comes up when I'm out the office." He looked Hershel up and down, Hershel hoped for a moment that he'd started to recognise him. "Sorry, have we met?"

"I don't believe so. Professor Layton." Clark leant forward and shook Hershel's hand.

"Professor? Not from a school round here I'm assuming"

"London." He knew he was lying right now, but he hoped that something would spark a memory in Clark's brain. He willed it to happen, he was tired of people not knowing him. "Gressenheller." There was a grin and he hoped for a second that he wish came true.

"Oh, I studied there! Great place." He smiled fondly at some unknown thought "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see you actually. This will seem strange, but I need to speak with your son." He watched Clark's face, squinting.

"My son?" He seemed apprehensive. But any father would be wary of his son's whereabouts. He decided to elaborate.

"Yes, I just wanted to discuss some-" Clark held up a hand, cutting him off.

"No, sorry. I don't have a son."

Hershel stopped. His heart sunk.

"You… what?" he just stared at him, shaken.

"Just me I'm afraid, pretty sure you've got me confused with somebody else. I think there's another Mr Triton over in Dropstone, maybe you're thinking of him?"

Hershel could feel his chest getting tight.

"It seems as though I may be, sorry to bother you." Clark tilted his head apologetically.

"Sorry that you travelled all this way, I know it's a bit of a trek from London. Can I offer you-"

"No it's fine, it was my mistake."

Hershel left the site without saying goodbye, leaving a very confused Clark. Hershel walked back through the town briskly, avoiding eye contact with anyone. He crossed the bridge and heard one of the Ravens call out to him.

"Hey mister, you leaving already? You only just got here." He caught his eye, and he feared that the boy might have seen his bloodshot eyes. "Oh man, you alright?"

"I'm fine. Do you know anything about Luke Triton?" he asked, trying to keep composure. Crow shrugged.

"Never heard of him."

Hershel could handle not being a famous Professor anymore. He could cope with relationships changing. He could deal with the fact that the world had seemingly postponed it's own apocalypse.

But this was too much.

He swerved the car over to the side of the road. There was nobody else around, just him and his thoughts, so he stopped for a couple of minutes just catching his breath. He had to know what was going on. He had to stop this.

His apprentice didn't exist. For some reason, some bizarre awful reason, he just wasn't there.

He knew this world seemed too perfect, something was bound to be wrong.

It didn't make sense.

Who else didn't exist? His mind raced to his children, had they been erased from this world as well?

He pulled his notebook out of his bag, resisting the urge to rip the pages out, and went over his notes. There had to be a common thread. But there were so many strange details, it was hard to keep track of them. Thoughts whirled like puzzle pieces in his brain as he tried to connect them all.

Clark didn't know him, and wasn't with Brenda. (Where on earth was she then?). He hadn't met Clark at Gressenheller, but Clark did GO to Gressenheller. Which meant that Hershel himself must have never studied there.

The Final Legacy hadn't been unleashed and Emmy and Desmond, two people very involved in the Azran, were gone. Targent was still out there.

And, unless they were both desperately trying to deny that the Masked Gentleman happened, Randall and Angela were both leading a normal life.

As he wrote it all down, note by note, something clicked. The one thing that pushed him into studying Archaeology. He'd referenced it before, but he'd never thought any more about it.

But he couldn't ignore the feeling anymore.

It would explain nearly everything.

He kicked the car back into gear, driving as fast as the speed limit would allow. He pulled up to their house an hour later, mind racing, and practically ran into the door. He knocked on it frantically, and was met with the person he'd hoped to see. He dropped all gentlemanly demeanour as he grabbed his friend's shoulders, desperate to know if his theory was right.

"Randall. What happened when we went into the Akbadain Ruins?"