The city of Vale can be described as many things, depending on who you ask. You ask someone from the North End what it's like living in the big city, and they'll tell you that it's a beautiful place. Gorgeous nightlife with enough lights to make the sky seem dull by comparison, the sound of music filling the streets as people danced the night away. High Rise buildings block out the moonlight from the sheer size alone as the glass panes that trail up the structures shimmer brightly.

And they're right. Northern Vale is a pretty place. But when you get away from the bright lights and the music, and you step back and look at the city as a whole, you come to realize that it's not so simple.

When you look at the South End, you don't find the vibrant lights or the flashy music. Some days, there aren't even decent roads to drive on. Instead, Southern Vale was little more than boarded-up buildings, messy roads, and drab color. But if there was any upside to it, it's that living expenses were few and far between.

Living in the South End was as easy as paying 400 Lien for apartment rent and living off cheap gas station food. It wasn't luxurious by any means, but it was affordable. Now, couple that with a two-to-eight gas station job. Congratulations, the daily life of Jaune Arc was easily summarized, unfortunately.

The blond boy struggled to suppress a sigh as he leaned against the counter in front of him, resisting the urge to pull his scroll from his pocket to check the time. He knew he should've been standing up straight, patiently waiting for the next set of customers to fill the store, but it didn't matter. The store was empty, his boss was in the back, and the orange hue of the setting sun peered through the smudged windows.

Jaune failed to crush a yawn as he dragged his hands down his tired face, his elbows coming to rest on the counter as he stared at the horizon. Just a little longer and he'd be able to go home and crash. So little happened during the day that the shelves were still full, the pumps had gone relatively unused, and South End was quiet, like always.

From behind him, the tired boy heard the sound of a door loudly creaking open. He mustered what little energy he had left to look over his shoulder, watching as a stout, balding man in a blue apron stepped through. As he dusted his dirty hands against his apron, the older man put his fatigue on display, sagging his shoulders.

"You know what," he started, his apron being smudged by whatever grime stained his hand. "I think we might close up early. Not like folks are swinging by much anyway." His gruff voice scraped against the blond's ears like sandpaper.

Jaune straightened his back as he stood his full height, standing a head above the man he called his boss. "You sure, boss? Don't need any help in the back?" He didn't want to leave the older fellow to finish cleaning by himself, even if he was tired. It just didn't sit right with him.

The blond watched as the older fellow waved him off with a calloused hand. "Nah, I'll be fine. But while I've got you, me and some of the fellas were planning on getting some grub. You feel like tagging along?"

The blond boy's lips tugged upwards as he brought a hand to the back of his head. "I'm alright. Besides, I was thinking about taking a drive up through Central and checking out this new burger place." Plus, a short drive would do wonders for him right now.

The balding man ran a hand across his graying stubble as a chuckle slipped from his mouth. "You're thinking about checking out the barge, are you?" The dry laugh caused the hairs on Jaune's neck to rise. "Well, I can't say I blame you. From what I hear, it's a fairly nice place. Not that I could afford it right now."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." He muttered, his eyes casting down at the floor. He didn't have much Lien to spend, but the little he did have, he hoped to spend it on some good food today. "Right, well, I'll catch you later, Deryl."

As he walked past the older fellow, the sound of his sneakers clacking against the tile floor, he heard his boss let out a hum. "Yep, see you tomorrow, Jaune. Oh, and your check should be coming in a few nights, so look forward to that."

With a wave, Jaune walked out of the gas station with the sound of a bell ringing filling his ears. The chill autumn wind brushed against his face. The sun's rays kissed his skin as he carefully took off his blue apron, bundling it up before stuffing it under his arm. Something in him wanted to stand in front of the gas station to watch the setting sun, but the burger place he wanted to see would only be open for so long.

His car wasn't too far from the entrance, parked maybe a few steps away from the door. It wasn't the most beautiful either, built in a small muscle car frame, painted white with the occasional splotch of rust, but it was his car. As he walked alongside the vehicle, he couldn't help but run his hand along the driver-side door.

His hand came to rest on the handle. He fished his keys from his pocket and unlocked the door before giving the handle a sudden pull. As he sat on the torn leather seat, the tears scratching at the fabric of his hoodie, he tossed the bundled-up apron onto the seat next to him. As the door closed with a chunk, the blond brought his hands to rest on the wheel, deep orange light peering through his windshield and blanketing his dashboard.

The driver sighed as he carefully put his keys in the ignition before putting his foot on the accelerator pedal, giving the pedal two pushes, if only to prime the carburetor. Jaune gave the key a turn, and the engine came to life. The sporadic low rumble of the motor sent vibrations up his arms as his hands came to rest on the wheel. It was the only time of day that he could actually relax, and he wanted to bask in it for as long as he could.

He let his forehead rest on the wheel as the world came to a crawl. The warm sunlight touched the nape of his neck, its warmth spreading across his back. A thought popped into his mind as his body loosened. Maybe a bit of music wouldn't hurt? But wouldn't that ruin the moment? It's not like he had a wide selection to pick and choose from. It was either the same old redundant radio or an album CD he'd gotten from Gramps from 40 years ago.

"You know what? Sure, let's put on some music." He mumbled, bringing his head up from the wheel before clicking on the radio. The radio sputtered to life for a moment, though perhaps life was an overstatement.

Static spat out of the aging machine. "Slow ride! Take it brzzt-" The radio fritzed out before clicking off. He couldn't help but furrow his brows as he stared at the radio, only to then see the slightest trace of smoke creep out of his dashboard.

"Oh shit!" His hand lashed out at the radio, turning it off with a click as he rolled down one of his windows. That was great, just fantastic. Yet another thing on the slowly growing list of things to fix later. Truly wonderful.

Dragging a hand down his face, the driver could only let out a whimper. "Well, at least it's just the radio." He reminded himself. So what if he was coping with the loss of his radio? At least it couldn't get any worse, right?

The previously sporadic vibrations smoothened out beneath his feet. Well, at least there was an upside. "Guess I'll go home. I can probably fix it tomorrow or something." Grumbling beneath his breath as he backed out of his spot. Though, as he went to bring his foot down on the brake, he found the pedal hitting the floor, the car still reversing from before.

"Huh?" Did he..? No, he was probably just daydreaming, right? He went to push the brake in again, and yet again, the brake met the floor, his foot finding a dangerous lack of resistance. "No! No! You've got to be kidding me!" His hands struck the steering wheel as the tragic news set in. "Fuck, man!"

This wasn't the first time it happened to him, but he hoped it would have taken longer for it to happen again. The last time this happened, Gramps told him that it was an issue with a broken brake line, so they got together and replaced it. That was maybe a month ago? The fact that it was happening so soon, in a time when Jaune had no money, was just the cherry on top of the dirt pie that he was served.

"That's fine. My check comes in soon. So long as I can still drive for the next few days, I'll be fine." Despite how logical it sounded, the panic still seeped into his heart. That's fine, everything was fine. He had it all under control. There was nothing to worry about. Now was the issue of trying to use the handbrake to stop.

It was going to be a long couple of days.

Now, to say that Jaune's drive home was a mess was putting it mildly. See, getting home wasn't particularly hard, it was just a short drive away. No, the hard part was the stop sign at the bottom of the hill, which intersected with a busy street. Now, using the handbrake would've been fine… if he adjusted it like his Gramps told him to.

So, when the time came to roll down the hill, he did the only thing he could do. He prayed.

But lady luck threw him a bone in his time of stress, having the streets be relatively empty as he carefully slipped home. He occasionally tapped the gas pedal to keep his speed up as his apartment came into view. As he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex, an abysmal pit formed in his stomach as he picked one of the many parking spots available.

As he lined up with a space near the front entrance of the apartment, carefully gliding his failing car into place, pulling the handbrake just before hitting the concrete stop block. His hands gripped the wheel tightly as he stared at the brick wall beyond his windshield. With a deep breath, he let his hands slink away from his steering wheel. His eyebrows tilted upwards as he stared at the cracked brick wall in front of him.

The day couldn't possibly get any worse, right?

As the thought entered his mind, he heard a quiet tick against the glass in front of him, a tiny wet splotch making itself present. Followed by another, then another, and so on. The blond boy's brows furrowed as a bright flash cracked across the sky, followed by a thundering boom. The pitter-patter against his windshield picked up the pace, and soon enough, the world around him was drenched in the downpour.

With a groan, Jaune slammed a closed fist on the steering wheel. "Just peachy." Not bothering to keep his volume down, it wasn't as if people were going to hear him from the inside of his car. As he snatched his apron from the seat next to him, he stuffed it under his arm before turning his car off and pulling the keys out of the ignition. You know, he really wanted to think something positive, but considering the recent trend of his optimism coming to bite him, he'd rather not.

As he pulled the door handle and let the door swing open, he made sure to push the manual lock down before stepping out into the pouring rain, shutting the door behind him. The feeling of heavy rain drenching his hair was something that stuck to his mind as he slogged towards the entrance to the complex. The word Welcome in bold letters was taped to the glass, though one of the letters was seemingly scratched off, leaving a space between the W and the L.

Pulling the door handle, the sound of yet another bell rang out as he stepped inside. He felt his undershirt cling to him as he walked through the small lobby, empty as the day was long. Typically, Deryl would be working the front desk, but he was still cleaning up the gas station.

If there was anything Jaune learned about his boss and landlord, he was a very busy man.

Shaking his head, the young driver turned to his left before marching down a tight hallway, the sight of doors slowly brushing past him as he walked further down the hall. The numbers of the doors counted up, room number 9, room number 10, and finally, room number 11. As he stared at the brown door, a cheap metal plaque stared him in the face, various parts of the door having wood peeling from its surface. As he fished his keys from his pockets, the sound of jingling was a safe reminder that he was only a few steps away from home.

Placing his room key in the lock before giving it a turn, he turned the knob on the door before giving it a push. He walked through the door frame with a sigh, his apartment looking the same way he left it. His door closed shut with a click as he locked it behind him, letting his shoulders slump for the first time in days. To his right was his kitchen area, piles of dirty dishes stacked in his sink as an empty bottle of dish soap sat next to it.

To his left was his living room area. It was hardly impressive, consisting of a shoddy plastic lawn chair, a basic fold-out table, and a cracked TV on a small dresser. It still worked, but it had this massive line of static colors going down the crack. He could always throw it out, but what was the point in making his already spacious studio apartment that much more open?

Behind the small dresser of his living room was a used mattress, haphazardly tossed on the floor, no blankets or pillows present. The tired blond grabbed his apron from under his arm before throwing it at the plastic chair as he staggered over to his mattress. He let out a groan as he flopped onto his shoddy bed as his body went limp, his eyelids feeling as heavy as an opiate.

Despite how much sleep called to him, he knew he couldn't go to bed the way he was. He still smelled of the sweat and grime of the gas station, his wet shirt clung to him as a newborn babe did to its mother, and his stomach growled at him. Nothing was ever easy in his life, but it felt like every day was just getting worse.

Was it wrong to want things to get easier? He certainly felt like it was. His life in Vale consisted of working, coming home to a trashy apartment, eating flavorless food, and hoping that he died in his sleep. Granted, hoping for the last one was a little unrealistic, but still.

As he stuffed his hands beneath his chin, making an impromptu cushion for his head, his heavy eyes drifted towards a lonely corner of his room. Nothing took the space of the corner aside from one object. An ivory sheathed blade with golden outlines, a gorgeous blue wrapping on the hilt only emphasized by the golden crossguard.

In the emptiest corner of his apartment sat his greatest mistake. A constant reminder that he would never be good enough.

A hollow chuckle escaped his mouth as he blankly stared at the blade. "I'm not even sure why I still have the thing." He mumbled, a cold feeling gripped at his heart as his eyes refused to tear themselves away from the sight. What was the point in keeping a sword that wasn't his and wouldn't even be used by him? A horrible thought crept into his mind, like a serpent whispering into his ear.

He could always throw it out, or pawn it if he really needed the money.

What felt worse than thinking about it was that he actually considered it. He needed money, and it wasn't like his job was making him tons of it anyway. Maybe pawning it would loosen the shackles of his economic burdens?

Jaune pulled one of his hands out from under him and slapped the side of his face. "My check comes in in a couple of days. If I need the money, I can… I don't know! Donate plasma or something." He didn't have a plan. He hasn't had a plan since he got to the God-forsaken city!

The feeling of frustration boiling in his chest caused his heart to rise, a heat slowly building as he tore his eyes from his constant reminder. An acrid odor that stemmed from beneath his arms hit him with the grace of a falling boulder, his nose wrinkling as his eyes watered. He needed a shower, needed food, he needed a lot of things.

His eyes flit shut for a moment, a breath going in through the nose, out through the mouth. He repeated the process once, then twice, and finally thrice before letting his eyes peel back open. "One step at a time. First, a shower." His voice cracked beneath the weight of his fatigue.

His joints creaked, muscles aching as he pushed himself up from his bed, the nerves in his feet shooting lightning up his body. He rolled his stiff neck, hoping for a pop that would never come, slogging over to his bathroom. Pushing aside the half-creaked door, the sight of his dirty reflection stared at him from the corner of his eye.

He couldn't help but turn his head and stare, his dark shirt that much darker from the earlier rain, the blond hair atop his head clinging to his forehead. A feeling of disgust pushed to the forefront of his mind as the smudged reflection stared him in the face. Huffing quietly, Jaune turned his head away and shut the door behind him, walking over to his shower before tearing the beige curtain away.

With a turn of the shower key, the sound of the water rushing and harshly impacting against his cracked tile floor provided a slight sense of tranquility. He stuck his hand out to touch the water. It was cold, as expected. His hand remained for a moment longer, if only to hope that the water might change in temperature.

And yet it remained cold.

"I'm not sure what else I was expecting." His voice filled with resignation as he pulled his hand away, giving it a quick shake. It seemed wishing that Deryl fixed the pipes was a little too hopeful. "I'll keep it brief, then."

Tearing his shirt from his back, he tossed it to the floor before kicking it aside. Soon enough, the rest of his clothes soon followed. Not wasting any further time, the blond boy tossed himself into the line of fire. The feeling of freezing bullets digging into his chest and face caused a chill across his whole body.

He rushed through the process of showering, rinsing his hair, applying shampoo, the whole nine yards. It honestly didn't take too long, but that was because he made an effort to keep it brief. See, Jaune had done some research on the topic of cold showers. There was quite a hefty list of benefits to freezing showers, such as waking up afterward, something about better hair, skincare, et cetera.

Now, those were all well and good, but Jaune really preferred warm showers for the simplest fact that he didn't feel like he was dying afterward.

After that, he quickly dried himself off, threw on a baggy shirt and some sweats, and fell backward on his mattress. His muscles loosened as he stared up at his ceiling, his mind empty of any thoughts. He didn't have the time to be thinking anymore. Then again, it's not like he knew anyone that did.

His heavy eyelids slowly forced themselves shut, a silent yawn slipping out as the world around him blurred before turning dark.

That darkness didn't last, and soon his eyes flitted open to find the same dirty shelves he was looking at earlier. His arm rested on the counter in front of him, his head resting on his palm as his apron hung from his neck.

"I must've fallen asleep on the job," the blond muttered, dragging a hand down his face as his eyes rubbed away his eye crust. All he could hope for was that nobody saw him sleeping. His eyes darted around the store as he straightened his back, checking every nook and cranny from where he could at his counter. Thankfully, he found the store vacant from where he stood.

A sigh escaped his lips as he went back to leaning against his counter. How long would it be before he could go home? Jaune stuffed his hand down his pocket before plucking his scroll, holding it in front of him before flicking it open. To his delight, his scroll read five minutes before closing. A tired smile tugged at his face. Just five more minutes, he'd be home, in bed, and asleep.

So he waited, and he waited, and he waited some more. It had to have been five minutes since then, right? Pulling his scroll out again, he saw that the time hadn't moved. A crease formed between his brows as he stared at his scroll. That wasn't right. Maybe his scroll was just fritzing out on him?

He unlocked his scroll and was taken to his home screen, yet his clock still read five minutes until closing. A hand came to rest on the back of his head, scratching his hair as he stared at his screen. "Maybe I'm just bored? Maybe I just need to kill time for these last five minutes? I mean, the store's empty, so I can just do whatever. Besides, we close up soon, so no one should be coming here anyway." The blond boy rationalized with himself. And if someone saw him goofing off, why should they care?

So, with his scroll in hand, he flicked through videos on an app he frequented, watching anything from short meme videos to long-winded documentaries. Yet whenever he looked back at the corner of his screen, the time still read five minutes until closing.

He felt his eye twitch as he stared at the time, taking a deep breath before setting his scroll down on the counter. The last thing he wanted to do was break it. After all, it wasn't like he had the money to replace his scroll if he wanted to. As eyes trailed upwards before resting on the front door.

His scroll was probably bugged or something. He could just walk out of the front door and leave right then and there. A smile took to his face as he stuffed his scroll into his pocket. He should have just done so earlier, then he would have saved some time. As he stepped around the counter and towards the front door, he felt his hand come to rest on the door itself.

Though, as he gave it a push, he felt the glassy door rattle as the lock jiggled against the door frame. Blue eyes blinked as he stared at the door. "Okay, that's weird." He muttered. Oh well, at least he had a key on him. He fished out his keyring before flicking through his bundle of keys, it was only natural for him to have a key with him, considering he was Deryl's only worker and all.

The driver let out a hum as he found the key he was searching for, holding it between his fingers as he went to stick it into the lock. As his eyes scanned the door for the lock, he blinked as he only found blank space on the door.

It was gone.

He looked over the door again, hoping that he might have missed it by some miracle. But no, the lock was well and truly gone. He pushed the door again, feeling the lock against the doorframe yet again, groaning loudly as the crease between his brows grew more pronounced.

From the corner of his vision, he watched a figure come into view. A fellow in a dark suit wearing red sunglasses walked past his door, staring past him and at his car. Jaune watched as the figure stepped closer and closer to his car, his heart rate picking up speed as he walked to the driver-side door. In an instance, the figure slammed his sharply dressed elbow into the glass of his door.

The blond boy had to do a double-take as the moment repeated in his mind.

He smashed his window.

He smashed his window.

It didn't take longer than a second for Jaune to bring his leg up and kick the door, but the lock held firm. He repeated the process, but the door refused to budge. From the corner of his reddening vision, he saw the figure turn to look at him, a look of apathy on his face as he reached into the window and pulled the door open. They were stealing his car!

He kicked the door over and over, but the glass refused to break. Out of desperation, Jaune toppled over one of the shelves, praying that the sheer weight would be enough to crumble the glass. As the shelf hit the glass, his heart dropped as he watched the shelf collapse in twain. A gaping pit formed in his stomach as he stepped over the stand, watching as the sharply dressed man sat on the driver's side of his car.

The thief smirked as the engine of his car rumbled, and Jaune could do nothing as he watched the thief drive away. Out of anger alone, Jaune's bare fist collided with the glass, and only then did the glass shatter.

Then the blond boy's eyes shot open, staring up at the dark, dirty roof of his apartment.

A loud groan slipped from his mouth as he dragged a hand down his face, his heart racing against his chest as a nauseating feeling settled in his stomach. It was just a stupid dream. Again. He let out a yawn as he felt his body stiffen against his mattress, his legs straightening as his arms came above his head.

For a moment, all Jaune wanted to do was lay in bed and forget that he was alive for the next few hours. It would've been easy. Honestly, no one would even notice he was gone. But of course, there was one issue with that idea. He still had to fix the brake master cylinder in his car. How else was he going to get to work?

He brought a hand to his pocket, patting his wallet as he laid in bed. Yep, it felt as light as he remembered it feeling. Yet another problem to join the growing pile of fuck-ups. Getting a cheap brake master cylinder wouldn't be too much of a problem, but he'd be feeling it for the next few days. Or, at least more than usual.

"Alright, guess I can't lay here forever." He mumbled, rolling off of his mattress and thudding against the floor. Pushing himself to his feet, the blond boy let out another yawn as he stumbled over to his kitchen area. It was hardly impressive, a counter built into the side of the wall, a small fridge, an equally small table, the works. Though, he couldn't help but take notice of the piling, well, pile of dishes in his sink.

He'd do them later.

"Okay," he muttered, rubbing his hand against the side of his head. "What's on the to-do list for today?" His mouth tasted bitter and sour, like something had crawled between his teeth to die. Well, the least he could do was his morning routine.

It was hardly an enjoyable routine. He got up, brushed his teeth, took a shower, got some clothes, ate cup noodles, and felt like garbage. Some, as he munched away at his instant-ramen, staring blankly at the flickering lights that came from his TV, he felt his scroll buzz. The blond boy let out a breath as he set his dull breakfast on his fold-out table, yanking his scroll from his pocket.

With a flick, his scroll opened to show he received a message. A message from Deryl specifically. He reluctantly tapped the notification with furrowed brows, sending him to his messenger.

Hey kid, the message read. Listen, we've had a bit of a leak in the store today, so it looks like you've got a day off. Lucky you. The blond boy had to read over the message again, then once more before finally letting out a breath.

On one hand, he didn't have to go into work today, which meant he could focus on fixing up his car. But on the other hand, that meant he had less hours, and he desperately needed money. He had the time, but he barely had the money, but the only way he'd have the money was if he didn't have the time.

Ah, the dreaded catch 22.

He let out a sigh as he let his scroll fall limply from his hand, thumping against his carpet with the screen facing up. What was he supposed to do with his day now? It wasn't exactly like he had much to do around his apartment, despite its state of disrepair. He could clean up around his flat, but what good would it do?

A stray thought wandered to the front of his mind. "I could always go pick up a new brake master cylinder." His thoughts forced their way out of his mouth as his hand came to rest on his chin. It felt convenient for the gas station to be closed today. Too convenient.

Was life throwing him a bone?

The blond boy quickly shook his head, plucking his scroll from the floor before pocketing it. He didn't have time to think about fantasies, he had to fix his car while he still had time! Before he could even think about pausing, Jaune pushed himself from his seat, ran to his bedroom, pulled out a pair of socks, put them on, and rushed for his shoes.

Throwing on his shoes at his door, the driver quickly did his three pats. Wallet? Check. Keys? Double check. Scroll? Yep, he had that too. Patting down his hoodie one last time, the blond boy pulled his keys from his pocket, stepped out of his room, and made sure to lock the door behind him. The last thing he wanted was for something to go missing from his room. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd heard that story before.

The young man marched down the hall with a stride in his step, filled with a grim determination to fix his car before anything else thought to break down. The lobby, as always, was empty, but maybe that had to do with the fact that it was still early. It didn't stop him from making for the door, pushing it open as he let the chill morning air lash at his face.

An unsteady smile tugged at his lips as he looked up at the clear blue sky. Something about today felt a bit better. He wasn't sure what it was, but there was something in the winds for him today. Something looking out for him, if that made any sense. Why, it had to be fate! Because if it wasn't fate, he wasn't sure what it could've been.

Shaking his head, the blue-eyed boy laughed to himself as he stepped towards his car, the white hood dotted by splotches of rust. Though, as he moved to step past his car, a thought nibbled at his mind. Maybe he should check under the hood? After all, it wasn't like he knew it was the brake master cylinder, right?

Jaune paused mid-step as he stared at his car, the gears in his mind turning rapidly. On one hand, it could have been a number of issues that his car was dealing with, but on the other, he couldn't imagine it being anything else but his brake master cylinder. After all, it's what failed the last time his car gave out.

The only son of the Arc family shook his head. "I'm probably overthinking things." He muttered, walking past his car as he fished his scroll from his pocket. Pulling up a map of the local area, Jaune narrowed his search for nearby auto parts shops. His scroll buffered for a moment before the boy felt his heart hit the pavement beneath him.

"You've got to be kidding me." The closest shop was a 40 minute walk away, all the way out near Central. His previously shaky smile shattered as he ran a hand through his hair. This was fine, it was just a short walk away, so long as he didn't get mugged, shot, or stopped along the way by another equally horrible circumstance.

So, Jaune did what he could. He put one foot in front of the other, and before he knew it, he was walking.

Hey, I'm back from my couple months of break, and in the time that I was gone, I wrote 7 or so chapters for a story. Yeah, I have a little bit of a problem. Either way, those seven chapters make up about 50,000 words, so look forward to those in the coming months. Ooh, and I tried this new thing where I do my best to not use line breaks during chapters, considering that's what normal novels do. So yeah, I'm gonna try my hand at that and see what comes of it.

So yeah, this is the premise of a story I've had in mind for the better part of 3 years, more or less. It's this neat story about a boy and his car, and the troubles that he gets into because of it. I know that's a little vague, but it's supposed to be. After all, if I tell you everything there is to know, I think it'd kill some of the fun factor of reading it.

If you thought this chapter was a little lacking in actual content, you wouldn't be the first to think that, because I did too. However, this is little more than a set up, propping up the setting and tone that I want to put forward for the better part of this story. Don't worry, the next chapter picks up a little.

Anyway, I think that's about all I've got to say on that matter. If you want to support this story in any way, do consider following, favoriting, and reviewing if you wouldn't be so kind. Oh, and if you've got anything to say that you feel wouldn't be worded well enough in a review, then don't worry, I've got a fix for that.

Discord: 7ksPCNs3ZM

I'm sure this story isn't gonna end up nearly as popular as my previous story, but you know what? That's okay. So long as I enjoy myself, and other people enjoy it as much as I do, I think I can live with that.

So yeah, I'll see you guys around in more or less a week. Oh, and the art was done by Nikolay Evsyukov on ArtStation, who you should check out when you've got time. His art is neat, and it's a shame that he doesn't do much posting on his profile anymore. Ciao, y buenas noches.