This is it, the final chapter! Thanks for all the positive feedback!

Final chapter: The Lost Future

London, 5 hours before the explosion.

Professor Hershel Layton examined his image in the mirror. The hat was very tall, not that he hadn't noticed, he was just trying to get used to the fact that the hat, on his head, was very tall. He had already knocked it clean off his head a couple of times walking through a doorway. He tried adjusting it but it was still stiff and a bit uncomfortable, oh well, perhaps it would mold over time, or he would mold to it. He turned his head from side to side, then realised it looked the same from all angles. Hershel smiled to himself, maybe he could make a top hat work? But it didn't suit the rest of his outfit, it just wouldn't do. He had a rummage through his drawers but found nothing, he then moved onto his wardrobe where he found a black jacket with high collar and some olive coloured shoes, these would do nicely, but he would have to go out and find a different shirt. Pulling the hat firmly down on his head he set out to the nearest clothing store, in the hope that he would find something in time for dinner that night with Claire.

London, 2 days since the explosion.

Innocent citizens of London jumped backwards off the roads for fear of their lives. Clark usually took a lot of care whilst driving, but right now something far more important was on his mind. He had only got the news that morning, he would cry for Claire later, but right now he had to get to the house, he had to find Hershel; he knew how much Layton loved Claire and was petrified something terrible might have happened. Clark slammed his foot on the brakes, then moved the car to the side of the road. Passer-bys gave him scornful stares as he stepped out on to the pavement, not stopping to lock his car, Clark made a dash for Hershel's front door. It was unlocked, slightly ajar in fact, this was a bad sign to start with. Fearing what he might find, Clark took a breath and made his way in.

Emptiness, that was the only word that could describe the scene that met Clark, the whole place was reeking of silence. Clark made his way into the dining room, a thin layer of dust was already forming on all surfaces. On the table was what looked like a large hat box, Clark took a closer look and found a label.

For Professor Layton

Love, Claire XXX

Clark searched the rest of the house but didn't find Hershel, in fact it seemed as if no one had been in the house for at least a day, he was lucky not to have been burgled, although, Clark reminded himself sadly, the last thing you could call Hershel right now was lucky. He searched the rest of the house but no one was home. He found himself in what must have been the new professor's study, the desk was littered with broken bits of pottery and paperwork. He could just be out Clark tried to reassure himself, He could just have gone to the shops, But as the place looked as if it had been abandoned for 24 hours, this didn't help much.

"Clark?" He spun around at the sound of Hershel's voice, who had managed to get in the room without Clark hearing him. He had a bunch of newspapers under his arm and a brand new top hat on his head, one that looked like it could easily fit in the box in the dining room.

"Hershel, I…" Clark stammered as he tried to find the words. Here he was, all the way from Misthallery, to stand in front of his old friend and say, "I… I don't know what to say."

"That's… That's fine, Clark," the professor hung his mournful head. "There's nothing to be said."

Clark stayed for a couple of hours, making tea and getting Hershel to help him tidy up the house, knowing that being busy is one of the few things that sooths someone numb with grief, he himself had to do this when his mother died. When the house was spotless and the tea mugs were washed, the two sat in silence, the only comfort Clark had left to give.

Finally, Hershel spoke. "You really should be getting back to your family." Clark looked him in the eye.

"I can stay if you want me to." Hershel gave him a grateful smile for this.

"Thank you, but I'll be fine."

Clark collected his coat and made his way to his car, Hershel followed to see him off. "If you ever need us, you are always welcome." Clark offered.

"Thank you, Clark, and thank you for coming." The professor answered. Clark gave him a nod and got in his car. Hershel watched the car disappear, then went back inside the lonely house. He found the pile of newspapers he had collected. Nothing, hardly anything, an explosion like that, the damage it caused, it should be all over the news, someone must be compressing it. Hershel found the brown, leather note pad he hadn't found a use for yet and started cutting out the little information the papers provided. He needed to get to the bottom of this, for Claire's sake, he had to get to the bottom of this.