a/n: this update includes a slight cameo from the Mocking J's OC. I said slight. I'm still looking for OCs, whether they're rioters, government, citizens or they help the Laytons. Just pm me or review with a quick profile. Thanks!

Chapter 4

He could hear Katarina calling after him, but he didn't care. Dodging a burning beam that crashed close to him, he pushed his way through the rubble and flames that licked at his face. Screams came from the library, startling Clive.

"Professor!" He shouted, starting to feel the dizzying effects of the smoke. Ash started to blur his vision, but he managed to keep his eyes open.

There was a pause that felt like an eternity before he heard a reply. "Clive! Over here, my boy!"

Clive grunted and pushed through the door, ignoring the falling embers that stung and burnt his skin. The professor was at the window, trying to soothe the others trapped inside. He ran over, not wasting a single moment.

"It always ends in fire and destruction with us." The professor said, glancing at the wall. "Doesn't it, Clive?"

"Right." He nodded, understanding what he was talking about. "What do you need me to do?"

He could've sworn he'd seen the slightest of smiles come across Layton's face. "I'm afraid the answer to this puzzle happens to be brute force. Can you do that?"

Clive stared at the crumbling wall before them. With the professor's help, it would be easy enough to at least push through it. It would hurt like hell though, even worse than getting hit by a giant pipe. Yet this time he'd save lives instead of end them.

"Of course, professor."

"Excellent." Layton nodded, gesturing to the wall that was already beginning to fall apart on its own. "One…"

Clive prepared himself, tightening his shoulders. For once, he was almost positive this wouldn't end in death. Not if he had his part in the matter.

"Two…"

He tensed up. I'm going to die. Oh my god, I'm going to die!

"Three!"

The two men rammed into the wall as all hell rained down on their heads.

Clive's last images before everything blurred to nothing were of fleeing people, a struggle, blood and a woman with piercing green eyes.

…

Flora stirred to the sound of a person. However, it seemed to be nothing but the radio. That was odd. Katarina was missing and she left her radio on.

"Kat?" The girl got up, peeking out into the dark, gloomy hallway. Clive's door was left ajar as well. Where was everyone?

She peeked into Clive's room. Dirty clothes and broken objects littered the ground. Pictures of him and Katarina, the professor and the rest of them were torn into shreds over and over. She stepped over a turned over chair, picking up his pictures and carefully taped them back together and set them on his bed for whenever he got back home.

"Professor?" Her adopted father wasn't in his bedroom either. Was no one home at all?

She soon discovered that the power was out when she was trying to turn on the lights. Finding a box of matches at his desk, she struck one and lit the row of candles he used especially for the increasingly more frequent power outages. On the wall was a collage of pictures and clippings from his various adventures. He'd discovered a box of them when he was cleaning out his attic and decided they'd be better off where he could see them daily. Nowadays it seemed to be the only thing to keep him going.

There were pictures of him with his friends in college and pictures of him and Claire. Newspaper clippings of his and Luke's adventures were in pristine condition and pinned onto the wall. There were more recent photos around when Clive got out of prison and everything was happy and perfect again. They were a family.

Around the bottom was a typed letter. There wasn't anything spectacularly ordinary about the contents of it, just Luke talking about his new pet cat and how he wanted to visit London soon. It was sent about two months ago.

It was the last letter before everything went crazy.

Flora frowned. It was awfully lonely without Luke or Emmy around and Clive and Katarina didn't want to do much all day. Maybe she needed to talk to someoneDetermined, she pulled out a few sheets of the professor's stationary.

Dear Luke,

I know it's been a while since we've last said anything to each other, but our family has been a bit busy lately…