Sorry for the late post my work, got in the way.

Chapter 4: Meet your father's side of the family.

Whitley eyes stared at the public flight center, there's a large line as many middle-wage employees were going down to mantle for business jobs or mining management. Whitley could see security, checking identification. He wondered how this would go but if something went wrong, he did have a backup plan.

burpy hid in the boy's hoodie, secretly tucking himself away from human eyes.

"Hey, are you sure this is a good idea?" Burpy asked. Whitley had that cocky smile on his face while moving forward.

"Yeah, I got this," He said. Walking without hesitation looked at one of the guards who was letting people on a bullhead transport ship. The atlas soldier glances at him.

"Identification?" He asked. Whitley didn't even have to pull out his wallet as the man instantly recognized his face. Whitley still showed his identification.

"Is there any problem sir?" He asked. The guard quickly shook his head.

"Oh uh no… forgive me but Mantle is just a harsh place just be careful," He warned Whitley in a panicked voice, clearly trying to make up for the halt. Whitley nodded and walked onto the bullhead door. Many of the other passengers were management for the mines. Whitley smirked at the Slug who sat on his shoulder.

"Told you I had it," Whitley said.

"Hey, I stand corrected," Burpy said with a smile. Then he took a rough seat and tried to buckle his seatbelt but found the straps were broken. Whitley let out a disgruntled sigh. The flying vehicle began to move. started to shake slightly due to the takeoff, which didn't bring any more peace to Whitley.

"Hey cheer up, look there's a TV in here!" Burpy said watching the new channel that just came up.

"This is Chad Boten reporting today and we can all put our fear and doubts down to why the outer wall was breached, researcher and top engineers have found the cause for the hole was nothing but a gas leak, from the local Whitefield, General Ironwood also said that damages should be fixed this afternoon so enjoy,"

Burpy eye twitched slightly and growled a little.

"Gas leak! Gas leak! What do I look like a Flatulorhinkus!" Burpy said angrily at the screen. Whitley held in his laugh and calmly pet the Slugs head, he wasn't sure if that was the right call, but Burpy didn't seem to mind.

"It's alright, it's better to keep a low profile than letting the entire kingdom know where we are," Whitley said. He was trying to calm composure but a look of doubt had crossed his face. Burpy picked up on it, being so closed, the small creature might as well have been reading Whitley's mind.

"Something you want to get off your chest?" He asked. Whitely reluctantly looked away from Burpy but gave in. He couldn't hide from this truth, that was placed in front of him today he needed to know. No matter how possible painful it could be.

"Is this Jimmo Shane… Nice. Will he tell me everything?" Whitley asked in a weary voice. Burpy smiled at his friend.

"He's one of the nicest people you'll ever meet, he practically raised your-," Burpy had paused knowing that word might have been a touchy subject. "Well, he raised Will Shane, and if want to know everything about Slugterra and slinging it's him,"

"Slinging? Are you sure you want me to fight, I've never challenged anyone to fight. I mean I do know a bit of Fisticuffs but to fight! That's crazy," Whitley said. Burpy shook his head and disappointment. It was gonna take a long while to get this soft boy to tip-top fighting shape.

"Uh, Burpy maybe we should stop talking," Whitley said.

"What are you talking about?" The Slug asked. The two had turned to the other passengers. Seeing all of them we're staring at them probably because a teenager was talking to himself.

"Yeah that's probably a good idea," Burpy said, hiding deeper in the hoodie. Whitley covered his face with embarrassment. This was going to be a long trip.

On a silver train bulletin through the harsh and cold winter, that was an atlas. An individual was heading for a floating city to investigate something oddly spectacular.

The cup of hot tea that lay on his table, went along with the croquette.

Watts was sitting on a train seat, scrolling through his device. looking into the News outlet, and watching the video of the fireball that ran rampant in the white city. Watts studied watching the video over and over again trying to figure out what this was. It wasn't any dust or Semblance. He had watched the news report and found it was completely nonsense.

"Hmm, interesting, it seems James is trying to cover this up," Watts said out loud.

"Doc, I don't usually get in the way of other people's business, but it seems like you were close to that man," The person who sat across from Watts said with a very heavy country accent. The western gentleman had his black cowboy hat, covering his face as he was truly trying to sleep. He wore a black trenchcoat. I had pale white skin. The man locked any facial hair, but he was a slim lean cowboy.

Watts sighed and took a sip of his tea.

"Billy, it's not nice to ask about other people's business…" Watts said. Billy took a deep sigh and didn't bunch an inch.

"Don't worry Doc, I'm not trying to get on your case just making sure your emotions don't get in the way of the job. The job always comes first, remember," Billy explained in a very calm tone of voice. Watts narrowed his eyes to the cowboy.

"Please I'm nothing like those three brats Salem put her absolute faith into," Watts harshly said. Billy chuckled at the comment.

"You mean the entitled handmaid with emotional issues, the clingy pocket street thief, and the wannabe assassin with daddy issues," Billy joked with a bright pearly smile. Watts surprisingly glanced at the young man, actually finding his remarks to be funny.

"Well that's one way of describing them," Watts had to suppress a small chuckle. That didn't go unnoticed by Billy.

"Is that a chuckle I heard from you?" Billy asked with a smirk. Watts would annoy you or deny anything, you don't honestly expect something worse from young Billy, but you could see it was a very common collective person, someone he could work with.

"Maybe you did, so Billy try not to get in my way," Watts said as he clicked on his scroll.

"Hey, as long as you have a plan, I'm certainly willing to follow but I feel like we should go over a hand signal in case we encounter a dusty crow or possibly any rusting iron general of iron," Billy said making a good point. Watts glanced up at the young man seeing that he was actually trying to be careful.

"Just look out for a crow in the winter weather and keep your head down from any media. We should be good, I've hacked the Atlas system before and it's quite easy to do it again. Will be invisible to any cameras or surveillance at the moment we enter the city."

Billy took off his hat showing. He had short brown hair and green eyes, he did have a sharp nose. Though his eyes were a bit sunken.

"I'm just saying we should make a plan in case the worst does happen you can never be too safe,"

Watts nodded in agreement, but he didn't want to admit it.

"Since you are so worried about that, you should be in charge of making a backup plan," Watts suggested. He wanted to see how this hot-headed youth was an amateur. Instead, Billy calmly nodded.

"You got it Doc, I'll make a plan," Billy said. Watts truly couldn't read this young man. He was sort of a wildcard. And the way that Lady Salem had recruited him was strange. It was usually she would find them, but instead, he found her. Watts could never really get a read off the young man you always kept a cool composure, even in the most tense situations.

"So Billy. B. Why did you choose to work for Salem, I truly want to understand you. Please forgive me. You just showed up out of the blue. I can't find any record of you, not even a birth certificate," Watts asked.

"I'm a calm reasonable person Doc, when I found out about Salem. I realized there was no fighting her and I just had to go with the flow. Is it because my father always taught me to be smart and crafty? He would always say walk softly and carry a loaded gun."

Watts nodded and could agree with those words.

"I think you and I are going to get quite long Billy," Watts said.

"Same here Doc you seem like a reasonable fella," Billy said with a calm demeanor. Then he glanced to the window, seeing that they were soon slowly approaching the floating city of Atlas but first they had to visit the old city below it known as Mmantel.

"So Doc, what's our first stop?"

Watt had nostalgically smiled seeing that the fireball had stopped at a very familiar place. "Well my young Billy, we're going to be visiting an old friend of mine. The Schnee manner,"

"Hehe, well that's some pretty big news for a country boy like me who gets to visit the richest man in the world. There's a joke somewhere, but I'm not too keen on making them right now,"

"Well said my boy, well said,"

Whitley watched as the transport bus slowly descended and made contact with the land port of Mantel. Whitley glanced out the window seeing all of the dull and brown brick building. The streets looked like a normal city, rather than the high-tech architecture that was Atlas. Even from the highest at where they docked.

The old rickety metal walls surrounding the city hardly looked solid. How could the primitive walls keep the Grimm out? The doors opened and many workers began to exit.

The smell of smoke and smog filled the air. Whitley quickly pinched his nose, not getting used to the industrial aroma. Walking out with the crowd Whitley could see how this city was constantly covered by the shade of Atlas.

Whitley slightly shivered, feeling how cold it was down here. There were heating pipes everywhere, constantly spewing out heat, but I didn't really warm up the streets. Burpy nuzzled closer into Whitley and let his power of heat shine off him.

Whitley let out a comfortable sigh.

"Thanks, little buddy," Whitley said. Burpy smiled but wasn't enjoying the pollution in the air. This city was the opposite of Slugterra with the industrial sector taking over nature.

"Hey no problem but at the same time, I gotta say this pretty dirty place, this is coming from someone who lived in a cave," Burpy said. Whitley agreed he thought the sanitary conditions were supposed to be better. The air quality was a bit thicker, not to mention the new shots of this place would always make it look better. Yet he could not help but feel a rack of guilt overwhelming him. This city used to be the capital of this kingdom, but now it was just hiding in the shadow of its successor.

"Alright, where do we go on?" Burpy asked. Whitley opened his scroll and clicked on the maps. He had prepared for this trip ahead of time. Whitley looked at the mark and began to walk.

"Well, the maps say they're not too far, it's at least three miles away, we should be able to make it on- OOF!" Whitley walked into someone and fell on his butt. Burpy held on tight.

Burpy quickly hid in the hoodie making sure he was out of sight. Whitley rubbed his butt and looked up at the person who he walked into.

"Sorry about that, I wasn't looking where I was going," Whitley said embarrassingly.

"It's fine like you did any real damage to me," Whitley looked up, and it was a lean woman with tan skin, blonde hair, and purple eyes. Whitley knew who this person was because she would be constantly in the news.

"Aren't you Robyn Hill, What are you doing here?" Whitley asked.

Robyn Hill smiled and looked at the group of people getting off the next transport airship.

"Me and my happy huntresses find recruits here to join our cause, any helping hands," Robyn said with a smile. Whitley hid his face by looking downward making his hoodie cover his face more. Robyn found the action to be a bit strange.

"So what brings you from the top Atlas boy," She asked. Whitley kept calm and decided to play along.

"I'm here visiting some folks," Whitley answered truthfully. Robyn nodded and smiled at the young boy.

"Well if you are interested, here's a pamphlet for my election candidacy, making the mantle great again," Robyn said with a smile. Whitley nodded and liked the sound of that. Mantle could use a touch; it was an important part of the city. Most of the working class came from here so why not make it better?

"Thanks, I'll check out," taking the pamphlet out of her hand. Whitley walked past but she let out a reluctant sigh.

"What's an upper class like you doing here?" Robyn asked. Whitley stopped moving but Burpy quickly nudged his side.

"Just keep walking Whitley, she can't stop you," Burpy said. The teen looked at the slug and nervously looked at the slug.

"I don't think we have choices," Whitley said. Though it wouldn't hurt to try.

Whitley didn't respond to her and kept walking away. A swift hand grabbed the back of his hood and pulled it down. Robyn glared at the boy with a surprised look, she was expecting a runaway heir or heiress to a rich company. She wasn't expecting the youngest child of the Schnee dust company. To be here of all places. Whitley was worried for a split second, but you would be able to see Burpy. Thankful the Slug was quick enough to hide deeper into the back hoodie.

"Hey, what's that for!" Whitley shouted. Robyn stood stunned seeing the boy. Whitley glared at the lady and began to walk away. Robyn followed him and stood in his way.

"Stop, what the heck is Schnee doing here?"

Whitley ignored her answer and tried to walk past her, instead a firm hand on his shoulder. Stopped him from moving. Robyn looked at the boy with a raised brow. A question was supported in her mind, the logical thought would be that Whitley was running away but she couldn't know for sure unless she obtained the truth. Whitley didn't have time for this but wouldn't go into an outburst. He was better than that.

"As I understand you're not officially a huntress, so you hold no authority over me, Now if you excuse me. I'm going to leave and I have some business," Whitley said calmly, his eyes still showing a calmness.

"What business, you Schnees moved up to Atlas and left the people of mantle alone, why don't you knock off the rich boy attitude, and tell me what a runaway is doing here?" Robyn asked with a stern voice. Whitley commonly moved her shoulder away from her grip.

"As I said, I'm here visiting. And if you expect me to shake hands with you, I know how your semblance works," Whitley said. Robyn let him go and watched as he calmly walked away. Immediately pulling his hood up. She stared at the young as he walked around a corner.

Robyn stared at Whitley with a suspicious look in her eyes. Something wasn't adding up and she would get to the bottom of this.

"What are you up to run away,"

She pulled out her scroll and typed in a number

"Hey it's me, we need surveillance on the west side of the mantle, We have a highly suspicious guest," Robyn then hinged up the phone as her right hand twitched. No matter what happened she would find the truth.

Whitley walked down the street following the path. As his scroll was displaying, Burpy moved his way out of the back of Whitley's hoodie. Looking at the building's north streets with a nostalgic expression.

"Hey, I've seen this place before, You're definitely on the right track," Burpy said.

"Let's just keep it that way, I don't want another mishap that was too close," Whitley pinched the bridge of his nose to relieve some form of stress, but unfortunately, it did not help. Burpy then nuzzled close to Whitley's face.

"Hey relax, I think you played off that situation pretty good especially considering how nosy that chick was. What's her problem anyway?"

Whitley sighed and rolled his shoulders. "That was Robyn Hill, she was an up-and-running candidate for the council. She never gets elected, but she used to work under Ironwood, no one knows why she left,"

Burpy titled his head. "She sounds like an interesting person,"

Whitely agreed "Especially with her semblance. It's called truth when she grabs someone's arm or hand, she can tell if you are lying or not, it's a very intrusive,"

Whitley then held his head down thinking about the semblances each and everyone had one but very few could accomplish them. When he was younger Whitley would always try to use the family semblance but nothing would ever happen. It was hereditary but he was never able to do it.

Whitley glanced at Burpy who sat on his shoulder.

"Hey Burpy do people in Slugterra have semblances?" Burpy pondered on the question.

"Hmm kinda hard to say, very few people in Slugterra can achieve it, but we don't call them Semblances. We call them divines, because well they always seem divine to have such power," Burpy said. Whitley really enjoyed hearing about the different types of culture. It always brought him some form of knowledge, however, that still didn't help with the fact that he still didn't have one.

"Hey, who knows? Maybe you might have something better than Glyphs," Burpy replied. Whitley let out a soft chuckle.

"And tell what's better than summoning your enemies to battle, to fight for your behalf," Whitley asked rhetorically, however, the slug didn't pick up on the dry sarcasm. Burpy thought deeply and smiled having an answer.

"What about friends?"

Whitley was stunned a bit by the answer. Then smiled thinking that was a good answer. The route ended with the address labeled above a street sign. It was the same on the card.

Saying South 6787 Humpty Dumpty Road. Whitley glanced at the street, seeing two giant apartment complexes in the middle was a space. The way Whitley was standing on the street didn't give a full of every bundling.

"Is any of this looking familiar to you?" Whitley asked. Burpy looked around and shook his head.

"A little bit but a lot of these bundling are new,"

Whitley nodded and began to do a bit more investigating. This looked to be a residential area. Not too much out of the ordinary, there was even a coffee shop. It was then passing an empty lot, Burpy gasped in excitement. Whitley quickly turned his head to see that the empty lot he presumed was just for trash, actually had a grass lawn. in between the two bundlings was a red wooden house.

With a white picket fence outlining the property, this old rickety, one-story house. There were tires in the front yard. A tree was growing behind the house. Chickens and even goats roamed the yard. There was a small farmer's windmill on the roof, it looked like someone had taken a piece of the countryside and put it into the big city of mantle.

"This is it! This is where great Uncle Jimmo lives!" Burpy said with excitement. Whitley was expecting a bit more professional.

"Are you sure this place looks like a country dump," Whitley said, having befuddlement written across his face. Burpy took a deep breath and let out a big sigh.

"Yep, this is Shane territory if I have ever seen it, come on let's knock on the front door!" Burpy chimed. Whitley walked on the stone path that led to the porch and knocked on the green door.

"Uh hello, I'm looking for Jimmo Shane!" Whitley asked. There was no response at the door. You couldn't see any lights that were on.

"Burpy I don't think anyone lives here, are you sure this is the right place?" unsure of what the slug suggested. Burpy then hopped off his shoulder and slid under the door space.

"Burpy what are you doing?" Whitley's hands tried to grab onto Burpy but he easily slipped through his fingers. The Slug then squished under the door.

"Trust me, Whitley! This the right place you just have to have confidence," Burpy shouted behind the door. Whitley nervously looked around hoping to find an answer he could see a red truck parked in the driveway, so that meant someone was home.

Whitley took a deep breath to settle his tension and then gently knocked on the door. Only for no response. The young man decided to knock a little harder.

.

.

.

.

.

Yet no answer came from the door, his hand slowly grabbed the golden doorknob and twisted the handle.

"Please be locked so I don't have to go in!" Whitley thought. Unfortunately, the door opened and Whitley was dreading entering someone's house without their permission. The door slowly opens letting out a creaking noise. The young man awkwardly cringed as a door slowly opened for him. Walking in the hallway see the farm-style decor. He gulped and carefully took steps on the wooden floor.

The lights were off and the building was oddly warm.

"Burpy, where are you?" He called out. No one responded, making Whitley venture further into the hall seeing that there was a door to his right leading to a living room with an old red couch, lying, the yellow wallpaper, dainty lamps, and quilts slung over the furniture.

"Burpy please stop messing around!" Whitley whispered louder. Then something had scurried across behind. Entering another open entry in the hall. Whitley gulped and didn't get a good look at what had run past him but Whitley knew it was small.

"Burpy, come on, stop joking around!" Whitley followed into the other room. Walking into the living room. Halting in his steps, he saw not a slug but a boy.

He was younger than Whitley, probably ten years old, and he had a caucasian skin tone. A very pronoun, Bucktooth light brown hair in a bowl, cut style with both sides bare.

Wearing a turquoise blue overall with a light blue-gray shirt underneath it. He wore no shoes and his feet were dirty. Whitley was at a loss for words.

"Uh hello, young man, I'm sorry to intrude upon your house, but I lost something in here," Whitley awkwardly said. even though he knew that this position that he was in was extremely bad. "Please don't scream,"

The boy stood and pointed at Whitley. Then shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Grandma, we got a burglar!" He screamed. Whitley took a step back and put his hands trying to de-escalate the situation.

"No wait, you have it all wrong! I'm not here to start trouble!" Whitley panics, trying to calm the boy down. The farm boy glanced at him with a suspicious look.

"That's what burglars want you to believe before you pull one over on me!" He assumed with outrage. Whitley slowly took a step back entering into panic mode. Not sure what to do if he was caught and turned in to the authorities he would be turned back to his parents. That was the last thing he wanted. His father would be extraordinarily mad and there was no telling what he would do and his mother wouldn't even care.

The door to the outside slammed open, making Whitley cover his eyes. Then well, his eyes adjusted. Whitley could make out a person standing in the doorway.

It was an elderly woman who was short and had bad posture, clearly needing a cane to walk. Her wrinkly face showed irritation. She had light blue hair covering her ears. Her mouth was puckered out almost like a bird.

She wore a long pink dress, which covered most of her body. around her neck was a pearl necklace. Matching her light blue lens glasses. to go along with her pink furry slippers. Being held tightly in her hand was a wooden cane.

Whitley felt his worries begin to slowly fade away, noticing it was just an elderly woman who would be rational about what he would have to say.

The woman quickly narrowed her eyes at the young man. Then drew her cane to reveal a hidden sword within the wooden scabbard.

"You think you can steal from Alice Shane and live to tell about it!"

Whitley gulped feeling a cold shiver run down his spine.

"Oh no,"

Alice let out a war cry charging at the young man. Whitley ran in the other direction trying to navigate his way out of the unfamiliar house.

"Get back here bandit and face my wrath," She yelled out throughout the house. Whitley had never run this fast in his life before, feeling a sense of dread that if he were caught, it would be the end for him.

He ran until he noticed a back door, he could see the outside light shining through it. Whitley quickly reached for the handle and opened it but before he could step outside the farm boy jumped at Whitley grabbing his legs, and restricting him in a tight embrace with his arms.

"You're not getting away that easily," He yelled. Whitley felt his body fall out of the house landing in a puddle of mud face-first. Thankfully the liquid cushioned the blow, but he was still covered in dirt.

He pulled his head from the ground and could feel his legs were trapped, despite being older than the child. Whitley wasn't known for athletic physical attributes, so he might as well have been wrestling a bear trap off his legs.

"Let go of me! I just trying to find my friend!" Whitley cried out. The boy let out a gasp, then looked back at the house.

"Grandma, this burglar, says he was looking for his other friend! That means there are two of them!" He yelled into the house. Alice appeared by the doorway, still holding her sword.

"Hold him steady cricket I teach this boy a lesson he'll never forget!" She yelled.

"Yeah, we don't take kindly to thieves that lost their friends, even though that sounds like an interesting story you got their friend!" Cricket yelled.

Whitley used his arms to cover his face.

"Please don't kill me!" He yelled. Whitley felt his life flash before his eyes as he was stuttering and fear not wanting to be sliced by a sword. He quickly regretted his decision to just come down here without any protection and without telling his mother or father where he was going. Now he's gonna end up on a milk carton.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!" A familiar voice to Whitley shouted. The young quickly uncovered his face seeing Jimmo Shane standing outside a toolshed, wearing his working gloves and tool belt. Whitley felt a humongous, sensitive, relief, and quickly found that his legs were let go by the young child.

Jimmo looked at the person who had started all this ruckus and gasped.

"Whitley, is that you?" He asked. Whitley pulled himself off the ground and tried to dust himself off the best he could, but still even with wiping the mud on his face he was a total wreck.

"Hello it's me," Whitley said, trying to clean himself. Alice quickly walked around the young man and pointed her sword. The young man raised his hands in the air, in a surrendering manner.

"Alright, you better start talking or else, because I don't take too kindly to intruders or the mailman," Alice held the tip to Whitley closer.

"But why the mailman?" He asked. Alice narrowed her eyes and growled in a low tone.

"For the sport!" Alice then found her sword to be swiped away from her hand. Jimmo glared at the old woman with an angry face.

"What are you doing Alice, that's Whitley Schnee, you know…Willow's boy," Jimmo said, making Alice look in surprise at the young, she adjusted her glasses and gasped.

"You're right or I'm seeing things again because Cricket cooked breakfast again," Alice said. Jimmo shook his head and grabbed his head in a stressful manner. Then he looked at the young man who was utterly confused. Jimmo looked at the young man with an awkward front.

"Sorry about that, It seems you met my sister and one of our nephews, I'm sure you got a cold Shane welcome," Jimmo said, pulling on the top of his shirt.

"You should have called. I bet you would have a more friendly welcome," Jimmo said. Whitley let out a sigh of relief.

"I was trying to find you but I kind of got sidetracked looking for someone," Whitley mumbled. The boy who was behind him walked to Whitley's side.

"Sorry about that, I'm Cricket Shane," The child said, raising his hand and offering up as a peaceful gesture. Whitley did understand where he was coming from; if a stranger walked into his home. He would think the same thing. When he shocked the boy's hand there was a lot more dirt on his hand that covered Whitley.

"I should have brought some sanitizer,"

Jimmo then nudges Alice with his elbow making the elderly woman sigh in anger.

"Fine," Alice walked up to Whitley who hasteful took a step back. Alice rolled her eyes and put her hand out.

"Sorry for trying to kill you, so what the next you even doing here boy?" Alice said, putting her hands on her hips. Whitley was intimidated by the old woman but cleared his throat. He pulled a certain item from his back and showed the book cover to Jimmo. The old man's eyes slightly widened a bit, Even Alice and Cricket both gasped.

"Well, I was hoping that maybe you could explain this to me," Whitley asked, then sadly looked away. "Even tell me about… Will Shane,"

Jimmo walked to the young man, raising his hand above, making Whitley flinch, we didn't go unnoticed by Alice or Jimmo. Whitley instead found a warm firm hand on his shoulder. Whitley looked back to the old man and found a warm smile on his face.

"It would be an absolute pleasure to tell you about my Nephew," Jimmo said welcoming Whitley not as a stranger but as family. Something that Whitley never felt before. Before he could pepper the man with questions. Two individuals came running around the house.

One has brown hair, is pudgy, has a flat squarish chin, and like the rest of his family, has yellow skin. He has small bags under his eyes, as a hint of aging and possibly to put up the stress. He wears a red squarish trucker mesh hat, a forest green short-sleeve shirt, bright navy blue jeans with dirt stains and a tear on the left knee, and worn brown shoes.

The other was a little girl, short and slender. Her medium-length black hair was neatly cut, freckles on both sides of her cheek, and like the other Greens, she also had pale skin, though hers was slightly paler than the others. Having two buck teeth that stick out of her mouth, and puffy cheeks. She has a visible slouch which makes her look shy.

She wears a light purple long dress that stops above her knees with a white collar and poofy sleeves. With a pair of green running shoes. The blogger man was trying to catch his breath looking at the sense in front of him.

"Mom! What happened? He yelled.

"Well papa it looks like we have a stranger in the house, And I think he's Albino," The little girl said. Whitley was stunned at the comment.

"What?" He said out loud. Jimmo still had his smile and gestured at the two to come closer.

"Bill, Tilly met Whitley, the one who came here to visit us," Jimmo said. Bill glanced at the poor with utter shock. He was speechless, this was something he hadn't expected in a lifetime. Tilly also was gaping at the mouth.

"Oh my gosh he's Schnee, a high-ranking person in society," Tilly grabbed the sides of her dress and politely greeted the boy. "How do you do sir," She said, in her thick country accent. Whitley greeted her back. Cricket was confused and wondered what the big idea was with this guy. Though every time he looked at the young man only one thought came to mind; He certainly reminded him of someone.

"Nice to meet you as well Tilly," Whitley said. Jimmo looked at the boy knowing he had a question, the truth was right here. Now he knew just unfolding him with all the truth would be too much. So Jimmo would just ease him into it. There was nothing wrong with that. Jimmo knew that this boy had a difficult time getting here.

"OH you must be Uncle Shane's kid, that means you're my cousin," Cricket said out loud. Everyone was slapped on the jaw as Cricket just spilled the beans onto a fire. Whitley was silent thinking that this had only confirmed his truth. Whitley couldn't move an inch as he was lost in his mind.

"Cricket we were supposed to ease him into it," Bill yelled. Cricket waved his hand at his father and nonchalantly didn't think it was a big deal.

"I'm sure Whitley finds he's Shane after all, right Whitley," Cricket had no response from the young man. Cricket still didn't turn around and looked worried. "Whitley, Whitley… He's in shock isn't he,"

"Yes my dear brother he is," Tilly said. Whitley was mumbling to himself not knowing what to do. Bill walked over to the two kids and put his hands over one of their shoulders.

"Come kids let your great uncle Jimmo and Grandma Alice handle this," Bill said, guiding the two in the house. Whitley was lost in his thoughts unsure. With a sudden feeling of comfort, Turning his head and saw Burpy sitting on his shoulder.

"Burpy," Whitley said in relief.

"Hey, sorry I thought they would be more welcoming," Burpy looked around Whitley's head, waving at Jimmo and Alice. Whitley looked at Burpy and quickly covered him.

"Burpy!" Jimmo and Alice said in shock. Burpy slipped out of Whitley's fingers and landed on the ground right in front of the two elderly women.

"Hey Jimmo, Alice you look wonderful as always!" Burpy said with a happy smile. Alice laughed and waved her hand.

"Wait, you can understand him!" Whitley said in shock. Alice looked at the boy with a surprised look.

"All Shane can understand Slugs, but you can hear him too. So that makes you Shane young man," Alice said. Whitley gulped feeling a sense of oddity not knowing how to talk to these people.

"You always were trying to be the charmer," Smirking at the Slug. Jimmo gently lowers his hand so the slug can leap into his hands. His kind smile soon turned into worry.

"Burpy what happened to Will?" He asked. Burpy sadly lowers his head.

"I think it best if everyone heard what happened," Burpy said. Jimmo had a look of pure anguish, he hadn't lost a nephew. This was someone who he looked over for a very long time. He had lost his son. The torch has now been passed down to another. Someone had to defend Slugterra.

Jimmo nodded and tried to put up a stern front forcing himself to walk into the old house. Whitley stood there still unsure what to do. It was then a gentle hand touched his shoulder nearly spooking him.

"Come on now son, you came here for the answer. The least we can do is treat you with some hospitality. Sorry for chasing you with the sword. I just get intense about home security," Alice said. Whitley looked at the old woman seeing she was being very genuine and let out a sigh.

"I… I'll gladly take that kindness," Whitley said. He was gently guided into the house. He didn't mind it whatsoever, but at the same time, he's never been gently guided anywhere. If he wanted answers so bad about who he was this was it, at the gate of the truth. finally learning about the man who left him and abandoned him. He wasn't some rich air to a massive fortune, but a bastard child to a mysterious man.

Yet that second choice sounded a hell of a lot better than staying in a cold house where no one loved you.

"I'm gonna learn what kind of man you are, Will Shane, because I certainly don't take a damn thing after Jacque," Whitley thought walking into the back door. Alice followed suit but felt a chill run down her spine. quickly, she turned around her eyes starting around for anything out of the ordinary. yeah, the only thing that caught her attention was a black crow, watching from the top of the tool shed.

Her eyes narrowed at the bird but she slowly entered the house, closing the door. Quickly popping out again, I pointed at the bird.

"I'm watching you Brid! stay away from the corn!" She yelled slowly going back into the house.

Notes: Okay I hope you guys liked this chapter next, The fic I'm working on is a Human Touch. I got some cover art from an artist 7eb055, go check him out.

We get to see what Billy is like, and just to give some insight, Billy is based on Billy the Kid, The young outlaw of the West.

So if you didn't notice the other Shanes are based on the family, The Greens, from big city greens. I wanted to make more family members so Whitley could feel he was in a true home. I think they would make the perfect people to make Whitley feel safe.

Now after reading so many of your guys' ideas for Whitley's semblance, I was able to pick one that is perfect for Whitley. So please leave a review.